{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_69135/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_69135","id":"gutenberg_69135","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69135","summary":null,"tags":["Animals -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Indians of North America -- Juvenile fiction","Labrador (N.L.) -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"[Illustration: Cover art]\n\n\n\n\n[Frontispiece: \"It was not safe for a warrior to so much as show his\nnose outside of his hiding-place\" (_See page_ 45)]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Title page]\n\n\n\n\n  _Flying Plover_\n\n  HIS STORIES, TOLD HIM BY SQUAT-BY-THE-FIRE\n\n\n  BY\n\n  G. E. THEODORE ROBERTS\n\n\n  _Author of\n  \"The Red Feathers,\" \"Hemming, the Adventurer,\" \"Captain Love,\" etc._\n\n\n  ILLUSTRATED & DECORATED BY\n  CHARLES LIVINGSTON BULL\n\n\n  _L. C. Page & Company_\n  BOSTON * MDCCCCIX\n\n\n\n\n  _Copyright_, 1909,\n  BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY\n  (INCORPORATED)\n\n\n  _All rights reserved_\n\n\n  First impression, June, 1909\n\n\n\n  THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nI. The Mountaineer People\n\nII. The Bear, The Moose, and the Walrus\n\nIII. Adventures of King Bear Continued\n\nIV. How Fire came to the Mountaineers\n\nV. How Porcupine Killer learned still more about the Wonderful Fire\n\nVI. Why Old King Walrus went away from the Mountaineers' Country\n\nVII. Another Story of Gluskap and his People\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n\"It was not safe for a warrior to so much as show his nose outside of\nhis hiding-place\" (See page 45) .... Frontispiece\n\n\"He left his hiding-place and chased the bear\"\n\n\"'Here come a few of them now,' said the crow\"\n\n\"He waved the long stick around his head\"\n\n\"Away they ran, howling and roaring\"\n\n\"Suddenly the great bear appeared, galloping heavily\"\n\n\n\n\nFLYING PLOVER\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE MOUNTAINEER PEOPLE\n\nBoth of Flying Plover's parents had died when he was a little baby,\nand ever since--for six long years--he had lived with his\ngrandmother.  The old woman's name was Squat-by-the-fire.  She was\nthe wisest person in the tribe, in spite of the fact that an old man\nwho lived in another village said that he knew twice as much as\nanybody else in the whole world.  She was deep in medicine and\nhistory and story-telling.  She could paint fine pictures on bark and\ncured skins, and was skilful in the carving of wonderful little\nfigures in wood and bone and walrus ivory.  She knew so much, and\nlooked so wise, and had such bright eyes, that many of the tribesmen\nbelieved that she was a magician.\n\nThe tribe that Flying Plover and his grandmother belonged to lived\nfar north, in that bleak and unexplored country called Labrador.\nThey spent the summer months near the coast, where they fished in the\ngreat bays for cod and seals, and in the rivers for salmon and trout.\nThey traded with the few white settlers and missionaries, and with\nthe Eskimo people.  At the approach of winter they traveled inland,\nwith the great herds of caribou, into the sheltered valleys of the\nmountains.  As the winter is a much longer season than the summer, in\nthat country, these people spent the greater part of every year in\nthe mountain forests--and so they are called the Mountaineer Indians,\nor the Mountaineers.  But this book is not about the tribe, but is\nfull of the stories that old Squat-by-the-fire told to little Flying\nPlover, in the long winter evenings.\n\n_You_ can not sit by the old woman's fire, and smell the herbs she\nwas always steeping, and play with the little figures which she\ncarved so cleverly, as Flying Plover could; yet I hope you will like\nher stories, for all that.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE BEAR, THE MOOSE, AND THE WALRUS\n\nThe other children of the village were afraid of Flying Plover's\ngrandmother, because of her bent back, and wrinkled face, and bright\ndark eyes.  Though she had never so much as said a harsh word to any\none of them, and though her medicines had saved the lives of many of\nthem, yet they would never follow Flying Plover into the big lodge\nwhere she sat all day by the fire, steeping her fragrant herbs and\nthinking of all manner of wonderful things.  They said that she could\nturn a little boy, or a little girl, into any kind of animal or bird\nin the world, without any more trouble than snapping her fingers.\nThat was nonsense; but some of the men and women believed it, too.\nMagicians were not very rare things in that region (at least to\npeople who believed in them) and you were just as likely as not to\nthink that you saw one every time you went out for a walk.  But\nSquat-by-the-fire was not a magician, and could not have turned a\nlittle boy, or a little girl, into a bird or a four-legged animal if\nshe had snapped her fingers for fifty years.  She was just an old,\ngood, and very clever woman; and though she loved little children and\nwas glad to be able to make medicines for them, she really was not\nsorry that they did not all run in and out of her lodge, with the\nfreedom of her grandson.  Flying Plover had learned her ways and\nwishes and never disturbed the pots by the fire or the big jars in\nthe corner; but she knew that the other children, once they felt at\nhome, would knock things about at a terrible rate.  And she was far\ntoo old and busy to begin to teach deportment to all the children of\nthe village.  But Flying Plover never caused her any trouble, and was\nnot in the least afraid of her.\n\nOne evening, when the raw-hide door of the lodge was fastened tight,\nand the fire burned cheerily and smokily on the earthen floor, and\nthe wind moaned outside, the old medicine woman asked, \"What games\ndid you play to-day, little son of Swift Runner?\"\n\n\"We played at battles,\" replied Flying Plover; \"and they put me on\nthe Eskimo side, and so I was taken prisoner, and fastened to a tree.\nI did not see much fun in that; so I made up another game, something\nlike deer-hunting, and we played that until it got dark.  But I like\nbattles best, except when I am an Eskimo.  Do the Eskimos always get\nbeaten in the real battles?\"\n\n\"Our people have not been at war with the fat blubber-eaters for a\nlong, long time,\" replied the old woman.  \"We used to battle with\nthem every summer; but it was a foolish thing to do, and brought a\ngreat deal of sorrow and suffering to both peoples.  When my father\nwas a young man, our warriors used to chase the Eskimo warriors as\nthe timber wolves chase the young caribou.  But the missionaries have\ntaught us that killing and robbing are terrible sins--and I think\npeople should have known that before.  So now, when we want sealskins\nand fish, we do not fight and rob, but we trade instead.  That is\nbetter, for it does not call for the shedding of blood, the burning\nof lodges, and torture and starvation, as of old.  Now the\nblubber-eaters are a weak people; but hundreds and hundreds of\nseasons ago they were a great nation.  But that was far beyond the\nreach of my father's memory.  They were a mighty people though, once\nupon a time; and then our nation was nothing more than a few weak\nvillages.  We were afraid of the blubber-eaters then, and never went\ndown from the mountains.  The Eskimo warriors chased our warriors\nthen, when they saw them, even as the timber wolves chase the young\ncaribou.  So it is with men and tribes and nations, little son of a\nchief.  I have seen something of it, even with my own eyes.  The\nEskimo people were the great people; and next the Mountaineers were\nmighty in battle; and now both the fat men of the ice and the hunters\nof the mountains know that the white missionaries and the white\ntraders are their masters.\"\n\n\"That is very strange,\" remarked Flying Plover.  \"The white men do\nnot look like great warriors, and they are very few in number.\"\n\n\"It is the mind,\" said old Squat-by-the-fire, touching her wrinkled\nforehead with a gnarled finger.  \"'T is the light inside the skull\nthat gives the mastery; though to listen to the story tellers, one\nwould believe that all the power lies in the biggest club and the\nstraightest arrow.  The minds of the white men are full of knowledge,\nand caution, and courage.  That is why they are now the great people.\"\n\n\"They feed their brains with fine sweet puddings.  I think that is\nwhy they are able to talk to our people so big and make the little\nEskimo boys go to school,\" said Flying Plover.\n\nThe old woman laughed; but it was not at her grandson's remark.  She\nwas thinking of the oldest story she had ever heard.\n\n\"There was a time, more than ten thousand summers ago, I should\nthink, when men were such weak, dull-witted creatures that they had\nno mastery over anything but the smallest animals and birds,\" she\nsaid.  \"Oh, yes, that was a very long time ago, ages and ages before\nthe white man had ever been heard of.  The animals were the masters,\nin those days, and it is a wonder that the poor, frightened creatures\nthat ran on two legs, and hid in caves and holes, kept alive at all.\nThen, the wolves were as big as black bears, and the bears stood as\nhigh as caribou, and the foxes were as big as timber wolves.  When a\nhunter saw a fox, in those days, he was glad to climb a tree; and he\nwas lucky if a caribou did not come along and knock the tree over\nwith its head.  Or may be an eagle would catch sight of the man, and\nswoop down and pick him out of the tree with its claws, as if he\nweighed no more than a little brook trout.\"\n\n\"I am glad I did not live in those days,\" said Flying Plover.  \"If\nall the beasts were too big to kill, and there were no white men to\nbuy blankets from, what did people do for clothes to wear?\"\n\n\"There were the hares,\" replied the old woman.  \"They were six times\nas large as they are now, but not much more dangerous unless they\nwere cornered.  And sometimes the bravest hunters managed to kill a\nbeaver or a musquash.  Even the mice were well worth hunting in those\ndays, and one fat mouse made a very good dinner for a small family.\nOh, it was a queer world, you may be sure!\"\n\nOld Squat-by-the-fire ceased her talk for a little while and opened a\nleathern bag at her belt.  From it she drew a wooden pipe, a knife,\nand a plug of dark-brown trade tobacco.  Soon the pipe was filled and\nlit, and the blue smoke curling about her head.\n\n\"Did they have any tobacco in those days?\" asked Flying Plover.\n\n\"No--nor fire to light it with,\" replied his grandmother.\n\nThe little boy was greatly astonished at that, and could not think\nhow people warmed themselves in winter, or cooked their dinner.  He\nwas just opening his mouth to ask about a dozen questions, when the\nold medicine-woman, noticing it, hurried on with her talk.\n\n[Illustration: \"He left his hiding-place and chased the bear\"]\n\n\"The king of the frozen north was a great walrus.  His tusks were as\nlong as a canoe paddle and his head as big as this lodge.  He lived\nin a house built of icebergs, and was not afraid of anything in the\nworld.  This country had two kings.  One was a white bear, as big as\na trading schooner, and the other was a bull moose as tall as the\nhighest spruce tree in the forest.  When the moose was without his\nhorns he went far away to the westward and hid himself in a deep\nvalley--and then the white bear was king of all this country.  But\nevery year, as soon as the moose felt that his horns were full-grown\nagain, he left his hiding-place and chased the bear hundreds of miles\nout of his kingdom.  So they went on, year after year, until, at\nlast, King Walrus heard about it.  Being a walrus he did not like\nwhite bears.  The dislike was born in him, for, of course, he had\nnever had any trouble with bears himself.\n\n\"'I have no doubt that the moose is the rightful ruler of that\ncountry,' he said.  'I'll just make a journey into that region and\nset the matter right.'\n\n\"Of course what he really meant was that he would take the country\nfor himself.  He was growing ambitious.  He felt that such a mighty\nchief should rule the whole world.  So one fine day in winter, just\nafter King Bear had sent King Moose trotting westward to his hidden\nvalley to grow a new pair of horns, up waddled King Walrus.  The bear\nwas five times as large as white bears are now; but old King Walrus\nwas ten times the size of the walruses of to-day.  King Bear saw at a\nglance that he was not big enough to fight with his unexpected\nvisitor.  Knowing that all walruses are the enemies of all bears, he\ndid not have to think very hard to find a reason for the northern\nking's visit.  His eyes grew red as the fire with the anger that\nburned in his brain; but what he said was, 'I am highly honored and\nunspeakably delighted at seeing you in my poor country.'\n\n\"'Hump,' grunted King Walrus,--for his manners were no better than\nthe manners of any other walrus, and, into the bargain, he was quite\nshort of breath from his overland journey in from the coast.  King\nBear saw that his only chance of keeping things pleasant was in being\npolite.  He would give his visitor some valuable gifts, too.\n\n\"'This is an unexpected pleasure,' he continued.  'I was never so\nhonored before in all my life.  I am deeply moved by your\ncondescension.'\n\n\"By this time King Walrus had recovered enough breath to talk with.\n'You will be moved still farther before very long,' he said.  Then he\nlaughed roaringly, for he had a very coarse sense of humor and\nenjoyed nobody's jokes but his own.  The bear was bright enough, you\nmay be sure, and usually approved of jokes, but he did not laugh that\ntime.  He became so angry that he forgot all his caution.\n\n\"'What are you bellowing about, old blubber-sides?' he snarled.\n\n\"'Hey!  What was that you called me?' roared King Walrus, changing\nhis tune very quickly.\n\n\"'You may bellow as loud as you choose,' replied the bear, 'but you\ncan't frighten me with noise.'\n\n\"He was so angry that he was utterly reckless.  White bears have very\nhot tempers, as you know.\n\n\"'I called you old blubber-sides,' he continued.  'I'll call you\nworse names than that, if you don't go away from my country.  You\nsmell like rotten fish!  Go away!  Go away!'\n\n\"King Walrus was far too angry to reply to these insults in words.\nHis great sides shook with anger as the sea shakes with storm.  Like\na mountain lurching from its place, he floundered after King Bear at\nthe top of his speed, bellowing all the while like summer thunder.\nThe earth groaned and trembled--and King Bear ran like a frightened\nhare.  He ran all day and all night; and not until then did the\nbellowing of old King Walrus fall to silence behind him.  Then he sat\ndown and growled and groaned and snarled, so enraged was he at\nfinding himself an outcast from his own country.  At last he became\nquieter and began to use his wits.\n\n\"'Old blubber-sides is too big for me,' he said--'and I think the\nMoose will find the same trouble, when he gets back.  But here is a\ncountry that does not look as if anyone governed it.  I'll be king of\nthis country.'\n\n\"It was a very dreary looking land in which the big white bear now\nfound himself.  He had never seen it before; and he had run so fast\nand so blindly that he really did not know by what course he had come\nor in what part of the world he was.  He went to the top of a hill\nand looked all around him.  Nowhere was there any sign of woods or\nwater or sea-ice.  On every side, and right away to the edge of the\nsky, lay rounded, treeless hills and wide, dreary barrens all covered\nwith snow.  The sight made the bear feel dreadfully grumpy, for\nnowhere could be seen any movement of life--any promise of dinner.\nAnd he was so hungry, after his long run, that his stomach felt as if\nit contained a lump of ice.\"\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nADVENTURES OF KING BEAR CONTINUED\n\nOld Squat-by-the-fire ceased her talking and, with tender care,\nknocked the ashes out of her pipe into the palm of her left hand.\nShe gazed narrowly at the ashes, before blowing them into the fire.\n\n\"That was good tobacco,\" she said.  \"Every little bit of it turned\ninto smoke.  Indian tobacco was not so good; but just to think that\nthere once was a time when people didn't have any fire, even to light\ntheir pipes and warm their bones at.  That must have been much worse\nthan not having any tobacco.\"\n\n\"Or to cook their dinners at,\" said little Flying Plover.  The old\nwoman nodded.  Her bright eyes were on the fire, and she was deep in\nmeditation.  Flying Plover watched her in silence for fully two\nminutes.  Then he said, \"I think King Bear was in King Walrus's\ncountry.\"\n\n\"You are wrong.  But it is time for you to go to bed,\" said\nSquat-by-the-fire.\n\n\"I am not sleepy.  Please tell me some more about King Bear,\" begged\nthe little boy.\n\n\"Well,\" said the old woman, \"he stood on the top of the hill and\ngrowled and roared, just as loud as he could, to see if anything\nwould hear him and come to find out his trouble.  Presently a crow\nappeared out of the gray sky, and alighted on the snow.\n\n\"'You are making a horrible noise,' said the crow.  'What's the\nmatter with you?'\n\n\"'I am hungry,' replied the bear.  'Who is king of this country?'\n\n\"'We have no king.  This country is ruled by the people,' said the\nbird.\n\n\"'Oh!' remarked King Bear, and scratched his ear.  He had never in\nall his life heard of a country without a chief or a king.  'It looks\nlike a poor sort of place.  Where are the people?'\n\n\"'Here come a few of them now,' said the crow, turning his head over\nhis shoulder.  Sure enough, there were six wolves and two black bears\napproaching the hill at a fast run.\n\n[Illustration: \"'Here come a few of them now,' said the crow\"]\n\n\"'They don't seem to be at all afraid of me,' said King Bear,\ngruffly.  'And yet I am big enough to kill them all with one of my\npaws.'\n\n\"'You are very big,' admitted the crow.  'You are the biggest bear I\never saw--and you seem to be colored wrong, too.  But that is neither\nhere nor there.  We do not think much of size in this country.'\n\n\"'Oh, don't you?' snarled King Bear.  'Well, perhaps you'll change\nyour views before very long.  And what do you mean by saying I am\ncolored wrong?'\n\n\"'Black and brown are the correct colors for bears,' said the crow.\n'Dirty white looks both foolish and untidy.'\n\n\"Just then the six wolves and the two black bears reached the bottom\nof the hill.  There they halted, and one of the wolves cried out,\n'What are you doing here, big stranger?'\n\n\"'I am sitting on the top of a hill, admiring your beautiful\ncountry,' replied the white bear, in a snarly voice.\n\n\"'What do you want?' asked the wolf.\n\n\"'Something to eat,' said the white bear.\n\n\"'Where did you come from?' asked the wolf.\n\n\"'You miserable creature, I came from my own country where I am\nking,' roared the bear.  'And I want you to know that I did not come\nhere to answer your questions!  Bring me something to eat--a fat\ncaribou, or a couple of seals--or I'll try my teeth on you!'\n\n\"'Your talk is as big as your body; but neither big words nor big\nbodies are much thought of in this country,' replied the wolf.\n\n\"King Bear was astonished at the wolf's daring in speaking to him so\nimpudently.  He had never been spoken to in that way before by any\ncommon animal or bird.  Of course King Moose, his rival, had said\nrude things to him every year; but that was to be expected and was\nbetween kings.  But it made his blood bubble in his brain to hear\nsuch words from that ordinary wolf, and to see the other common\ncreatures, and the crow grinning at the talk.  He was so angry that\nhe almost forgot the hungry-pain in his stomach.\n\n\"'I am a great king,' he roared, and got to his feet, ready to\ndestroy the six wolves and the two black bears with one sweep of his\nmighty right paw.  But he did not do it!  He saw something running on\nthe snow, so fast that he could not make out what it was--and\nsuddenly it stopped close under his great nose and he saw that it was\na slim young man.  He was so astonished that he squatted back on his\nhaunches.\n\n\"'I have been listening to you,' said the young man, 'and I do not\nlike your talk.  Also, I do not like your looks.  You are too big and\ntoo bold to be a safe companion for my people.'\n\n\"King Bear could do nothing but stare.\n\n\"'I am Gluskap,' continued the young man, 'and all the men and\nanimals in this land, for seven times as far as you can see in every\ndirection, are in my care.'\n\n\"'I never heard of you,' said the big white bear.\n\n\"The young man smiled at that.  Then he pointed his finger at the\nstranger and gazed at him very hard with his bright eyes.\n\n\"'I feel queer.  My head spins 'round and 'round,' said the bear.  He\nbegan to sway from side to side.  He stood on his four strong legs;\nbut still he swayed and swayed, and his mouth hung open and he\nbreathed very hard.\n\n\"'What--are--you--doing--to--me?' he gasped.\n\n\"'I am reducing you,' replied the young man.\n\n\"King Bear did not know what that meant--and he felt so queer that he\ndid not care.  All the white world seemed to go whirling around him.\nAt last he fell over, flat on his side.  And as soon as that had\nhappened he felt quite well again and jumped to his feet.  Well, he\nblinked his red eyes and he glared and glared, for it looked to him\nas if the man, the crow, the wolves, and the black bears had all\ngrown much larger.  But that was not what had happened at all.  The\nchange was in himself and not in the others.  Gluskap, with his\nmagic, had made him smaller and smaller until he was just exactly the\nsize of white bears now and smaller than common black bears were in\nthose days.\n\n\"'Now that you are a small bear and not at all dangerous to the peace\nof this country, you may come with me and have something to eat,'\nsaid Gluskap.  'And if you behave yourself I think my people will be\nkind to you and let you live in this country.  Come, it is dinner\ntime.'\n\n\"He turned toward the south and walked slowly away.  Then the white\nbear followed him, wondering to find himself so mild and obedient.\nThe other animals followed, too, and the crow flew on ahead.  One of\nthe wolves walked beside the white bear.\n\n\"'The crow told me that this country was without a king,' said the\nbear.  'But that man is your king, surely!'\n\n\"'Oh, now, he is one of the gods,' said the wolf.  'He feeds us, and\nkeeps our enemies from harming us.  Is that what kings do for their\npeople?'\n\n\"'I never heard of a king doing things like that,' replied the white\nbear.  'But what does he feed you with?' he asked, for again he felt\nthe hungry-pain in his stomach--and though he was so much smaller\nnow, the pain felt just as big as when he was his old size.\n\n\"'Just whatever you want,' said the wolf.  'His lodge is behind the\nnext hill, so you will soon know as much about it as I know.  All the\nmen and animals and birds are there by now, I think, waiting for\ntheir food.  Don't you hear them talking?'  Oh, yes the white bear\nheard them talking.  It sounded just like the running of sea waves up\nand back along a pebbly shore.  And now the scents of that hidden\nmultitude reached his keen nose.  He smelt every kind of living\ncreature he had ever smelled before in all his life, except fish and\nseals.  He knew that men were there, beyond the hill, and moose,\ncaribou, bears, wolves, foxes, otters, wild-cats, mink, porcupine,\nred deer, woodchucks, hares, mice, beaver, muskrats, badgers, and all\nkinds of birds.\n\n\"'Hah, that smells good,' he said, and sniffed very hard.  'That\ncertainly smells like a fine dinner.  I'll be puzzled to know what to\neat first.  A fat beaver would not be bad to start with, as there\ndoes not seem to be any kind of fresh fish.'\n\n\"'You are all wrong.  You will not be allowed to eat any of those\nanimals.  They are waiting for their dinners just as hungrily as you\nare; and what would they think, do you suppose, if Gluskap allowed\nyou to kill them and eat them?'\n\n\"'Then what on earth are we going to eat?' asked the white bear.\n\n\"'You'll soon find that out for yourself,' replied the wolf.\n\n\"Gluskap led the way straight up the side of the steep hill.  There,\non the other side, stood a great lodge of poles and bark, surrounded\nby several hundred men, thousands of animals, and great flocks of\nbirds settling down and flying up and lighting again.  The white bear\ngazed at the scene in astonishment.  There stood wolves and caribou\nside by side, and hares and wild-cats lay together on the snow.\n\n\"'Why don't they fight?' he asked.  'Why don't the bears and wolves\neat the silly little men and the fat hares and beavers?'\n\n\"'No need of it,' said the wolf.  'It is easier to eat Gluskap's\nfood.'\n\n\"Now they halted at the edge of the crowd.  They saw Gluskap walk\ninto his great lodge.  Soon he came out with a basket in one hand.\nHe walked among the men and animals, scattering on every side\nsomething that looked like sand.  The moment those little grains\ntouched the ground, each one became a piece of food.  A grain that\ndropped in front of a beaver became a juicy fragment of pond-lily\nroot.  The grains that fell before the caribou turned into bundles of\ncaribou-moss.  The grains that fell near the bears and wolves and men\nbecame meat and fish of many kinds.  Well, it was the most wonderful\nthing that the white bear had ever dreamed of; and when he suddenly\nfound a big, fresh salmon and a lump of beaver flesh under his very\nnose, he was too happy to do anything but eat and eat.\"\n\nOld Squat-by-the-fire ceased her story-telling, leaned back against a\nheap of robes and blankets, and closed her eyes.\n\n\"Did Gluskap make all the food out of sand?\" asked Flying Plover.\n\n\"Yes.  Now you must go to bed, little son of a chief.\"\n\n\"Did King Bear stay with Gluskap?\"\n\n\"Yes.  Go to bed now, Flying Plover.\"\n\n\"Didn't he ever go back to his own country?\"\n\n\"Perhaps he did.  I don't know.  Go to bed.\"\n\n\"What happened to old King Walrus?\"\n\n\"I won't tell you to-night.  Go to bed!\"\n\n\"Did King Moose come home and fight him?\"\n\n\"Go to bed!  Go to bed!  Go--to--bed!\"\n\nSo, at last, while the fire still burned brightly, little Flying\nPlover went to bed under a soft robe of furs--and with most of his\nclothes on too.  But his grandmother sat up for an hour or two\nlonger, and smoked another pipeful of tobacco.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nHOW FIRE CAME TO THE MOUNTAINEERS\n\nFlying Plover was awake bright and early next morning, and went right\nout in the cold and snow to get wood for his grandmother's fire.  The\nmen of the village always kept the old medicine-woman's wood pile\nwell supplied--so the little boy had no chopping to do, but just\ncarried armfuls of dry sticks into the lodge.  Though it was nearly\nbreakfast time, the sun was not yet up; but a narrow yellow band\nedged the horizon in one place, and in the faint twilight several\npeople besides Flying Plover were moving about out of doors.  Some\nwere getting wood, and some were carrying water from the hole in the\nfrozen brook.  Big Hunter, the chief of the village, was feeding\nfrozen fish to his sledge-dogs; for he and his sons were going to\nmake an early start in search of caribou.  The air was very still and\ncold, and the tall trees which stood all around and among the lodges\nsnapped in the frost.  Little Flying Plover was too cold to even\nshout out to his friends.  This was the part of the day which he did\nnot like--the short time before the fire was lighted and breakfast\nwas cooked.  So he worked very fast, running backward and forward\nbetween the lodge and the wood pile.  His task was soon done; and\nsoon the fire burned cheerily in the middle of the lodge, the smoke\nstreamed up to the peak of the roof and out into the frosty air, and\nthe old medicine-woman put the tea-kettle and the frying-pan on the\ncoals.\n\nAfter breakfast, Squat-by-the-fire gave her little grandson a lesson\nin moccasin-sewing; and after the lesson she kept him at work at\nmaking a pair of moccasins while she steeped medicines.  For a little\nwhile in the afternoon he worked at carving a caribou from a block of\nwood; but it was hard work, and he cut his finger; and after a whole\nhour of scooping and cutting, the thing still looked more like a\nblock than a caribou.  He almost cried.  In fact, two tears rolled\nout of his eyes and half-way down his fat cheeks before he remembered\nthat warriors do not weep and hastily wiped them away with the back\nof his hand.  His grandmother did not let him know that she had seen\nthe tears; but she tied a piece of rag around his cut finger and told\nhim to go out and play with the other little boys.\n\nThat night, old Squat-by-the-fire told Flying Plover some more about\nKing Walrus, and about a man called Porcupine Killer.\n\n\"When King Moose returned to this country,\" she said, \"with his fine\nhorns all ready for knocking King Bear about, and found old King\nWalrus here instead, he was not at all pleased with the change.  One\nlook at the big walrus told him that he had met his master, horns or\nno horns.  But he was full of courage and felt that right was on his\nside--so with a snort of rage he tried to roll King Walrus from the\nhill on which he lay, sleeping soundly.  But he might as well have\ntried to roll the hill from under King Walrus.  There was a short and\nterrible fight--and then poor King Moose limped away and lay down in\na distant forest to think the matter over.  He hid in the forest for\nmany days and asked every animal and bird that came within speaking\ndistance where King Bear had gone to.  But not one of them could tell\nhim that.  All they knew was that he had been chased out of the\ncountry by the old blubber-mountain from the north.  The moose was\nvery sorry that no one could tell him where his rival had gone to.\nHe thought that he and King Bear together could drive King Walrus\nback to his own country.  But as there seemed to be no chance of\nfinding the bear, he continued to live quietly in the distant forest.\nFor exercise, he knocked the great pine trees over with his horns.\nNone of the other animals were big enough for him to fight with--and\nKing Walrus was too big.\n\n\"The walrus did not stay in this country very long; but while he was\nhere, men suffered even more than they had suffered before.  The\nreason for this was that a great many fierce animals from the north\nhad followed their king into this country.  The whole land was full\nof bears and wolves and giant foxes; and people--mountaineer\npeople--died of hunger in their caves because the men were afraid to\ngo out and hunt.  It was not safe for a warrior to so much as show\nhis nose outside of his hiding-place.  If things had gone on in that\nway for another moon, I think the whole tribe of mankind in this\ncountry would have starved or been killed--and if that had happened\nyou and I would not be sitting here to-night.\"\n\n\"Where would we be sitting?\" asked Flying Plover.\n\n\"We would not be sitting anywhere.  We would never have been born,\"\nreplied the old woman.\n\n\"Why not?\" asked the little boy.\n\nBut Squat-by-the-fire knew that if she answered any more of his\nquestions he would keep her busy all night.  So she hastened on with\nher story.\n\n\"There was a young man named Porcupine Killer,\" she continued.  \"He\nhad once killed a porcupine with only a flint knife for a weapon--and\nporcupines in those days were larger than bears are now.  That is how\nhe got his name.  But the porcupine had been eaten years ago, and now\nhe was not able to go out and kill even a mouse.  You need not laugh\nat that, for mice were then as big as beavers are now--and just as\ngood eating, too.  He knew that if he went ten yards from the narrow\nmouth of his cave some great animal would leap upon him.  He had a\nwife and little baby; and all the three had eaten for two days was\npart of a fish that a hawk had accidentally dropped in front of the\ncave as it flew over, chased by an eagle.  He could not think of\nanything to do.  When night fell he would creep out and feel about\nfor some bones.  With so many great animals killing and feeding on\nall sides there would surely be plenty of fresh bones lying around.\nHe had seen a pack of great wolves chasing a giant caribou along the\nvalley below his cave early that morning.  If he could find the bones\nof that caribou he would be lucky.  The marrow in one of those bones\nwould supply them with many meals.  But as he had to wait until night\nto begin his hunt and had nothing to do in the meantime, he lay down\non a bed of dry leaves and fell asleep.\n\n\"A wonderful dream came to Porcupine Killer while he lay asleep in\nhis dark cave, with his belt drawn tight around his stomach because\nof the hungry-pain.  Some good spirit must have come and whispered\nthat dream into his brain, for in it there was hardly one thing like\nanything he had ever seen; and yet it was all just as if he looked\ndown at something that was really happening.  He saw a place of flat,\nwhite sand (at first he thought it was snow, for there is no sand so\nwhite in this country) with the sea at one edge of it, green as\nleaves in Spring and blue as the sky, and strange-looking trees and\nbushes along the other side.  On the sand, mid-way between the trees\nand the edge of the beautiful sea, stood a man.  Porcupine Killer had\nnever before seen such a queer-looking man.  His skin, all over his\nface and body, was as dark as the roof of this lodge where the smoke\nhas painted it.  He was naked as a trout.  At his feet lay a bunch of\ndry grass and a heap of little sticks.  In his hands he held\nsomething that looked like a very short bow with a doubled, twisted\ncord made of some kind of vine, and a piece of dry, flat wood.  He\nsat down on the sand, crossed his legs, crumbled a little of the dry\ngrass between his hands and placed the powder close beside him, on\nthe sand.  Then, holding the flat piece of wood firm between his\nknees with his left hand, he placed the cord of the bow in a notch\nacross it and began to draw it swiftly back and forth, back and\nforth, quick as lightning.  The spirit of Porcupine Killer (for it\ndid not seem to him that his body was in the dream at all) bent close\nabove the queer-looking black man, eager to find out what he was\ntrying to do.  The stranger worked and worked, his hand flying back\nand forth so fast that it could scarcely be seen.  The sweat stood\nout on his black skin.  Soon a faint, blue mist crept up from the\nnotch in the slab of dry wood--or was it from the flying cord of\ntwisted vine?  It floated up and melted in the sunlight; then it\nfloated up again; and again it melted to nothing.  Porcupine Killer\ncould make no sense out of it; but he liked the look of the dry, blue\nmist.  The worker now clutched the wood tight between his knees,\nkeeping his right hand still speeding with the bow, and with the\nfingers of his left hand took up a pinch of the grass-powder and\nsprinkled it where the cord of vine flew along the notch.  Now the\nblue mist arose in a little cloud, and climbed high above the\nworker's head before it melted.  It had a smell--a smell that seemed\nvery good to the spirit of Porcupine Killer.  His nose had never met\nwith anything like it before, and yet it awoke a strange craving\nwithin him, and seemed to speak of comfort and safety.\n\n\"Still the strange man went on with his strange work, driving the bow\nback and forth with his right hand and sprinkling a little of the\npowder of dry grass with his left.  Suddenly the mist puffed white\nand thick, and in a moment faded to something so faint that it had no\ncolor at all, and yet seemed to waver upward and melt away, even as\nthe mist had floated and melted--and, in the same instant, a living\nthing, yellow and bright and no bigger than a baby's finger, moved on\nthe flat piece of wood.\n\n\"It was like a bright, strange bird.  It was like a beautiful flower\nthat bursts suddenly into bloom and life from a husk of bray seed.\nIt was like magic!--like the eye of a god!--like the secret of life!\nAt least so it seemed to Porcupine Killer.  Nothing before, except\nthe feelings of love and courage, had ever awakened so much joy in\nhim.\n\n\"'What is it?  Give it to me,' he cried; but his spirit had no voice,\nand the man on the sand did not so much as turn his head.  He was\nstill busy with the magic thing that had so suddenly come to his\nhand.  Now he ceased the movement of the bow and let it fall on the\nsand, where it lay unheeded, with a faint mist arising from the cord\nof twisted vine.  He fed the yellow, living thing with leaves of the\ndry grass, and it grew and leapt under his hand.  Suddenly he turned\nto the little bunch of dry grass at his elbow--and, quick as thought,\nevery fiber of it had blossomed to red and yellow.  Now, from the\nheap of twigs and sticks, he fed that wonderful, leaping thing that\nhad flashed into life but a few moments before, no larger than a\nbaby's finger, and that now covered a space on the sand as wide and\nlong as a snow-shoe track.\"\n\n\"What was it?\" asked little Flying Plover, in an awed whisper.\n\n\"It was fire--fire like that,\" replied the old medicine-woman,\npointing at the glowing coals and leaping flames within the circle of\nstones in the center of the floor.  For a moment the child looked\npuzzled, and glanced at his grandmother to see if she were laughing\nat him.  Then he nodded his head.\n\n\"Yes, the fire is alive,\" he said; \"but why did the queer, black man\nrub the bow across the flat piece of wood?\"\n\n\"There were no matches in those days such as the traders sell now,\"\nreplied the old woman.  \"And fire could not be struck out of the\nflint as it was when I was young, because there was no steel with\nwhich to strike the flint.  All these things that I am telling you\nhappened a very long time ago, little son of a chief.\"\n\nAgain Flying Plover nodded his head.\n\n\"And then what did the queer man on the sand do when his fire was\nburning so well?\" he asked.\n\n\"I do not know what he did,\" replied Squat-by-the-fire, \"for just\nwhen the sticks were crackling and the flames leaping high as the\nflames of our own fire, the spirit of Porcupine Killer flew back to\nhis body and poor Porcupine Killer opened his eyes and found himself\nlying on the bed of leaves in his dark, narrow cave.  And the\nhungry-pain gnawed him again, and he heard his wife crying beside him\nas she rocked the little baby in her arms.  But there was a lightness\nin his heart that had not been there when he fell asleep, and his\ndream was as clear as a picture in his mind.  He got up quickly from\nhis bed of leaves and dry moss, and crawled to the back of the cave\nwhere some of his bows and spears were stored, along with several\npieces of seasoned wood for the making of arrows.  Without telling\nthe woman a word of his wonderful dream, he broke one of his bows in\ntwo pieces.  But the string of caribou sinew was not what he wanted.\nHe felt about in the dark, and soon found some strands of tough\nhemlock root which he had once used for snares.  Finding three\nstrands of a length, he plated them together into one thick, tough\ncord--and with this he strung a piece of the broken bow.\n\n\"'What are you doing?' asked his wife.\n\n\"'Perhaps you shall soon see.  Have patience,' he replied.  The poor\nwoman thought that hunger and despair had weakened his mind.  But she\nstopped her weeping and drew near to him, the better to see what he\nwas about.  Having fixed a short bow to suit him, he broke across his\nknee many of the sticks and slabs of seasoned wood, from which he had\nintended to make such fine arrows.  Across the flat side of one of\nthese pieces he scraped a shallow groove with his stone knife.  When\nthat was done, he collected ten handfuls of dry moss and grass from\nhis bed.  Some of this he powdered between his hands, as he had seen\nthe strange, naked man do in his dream.  Then, when all was ready, he\nsat on the cold floor of the cave and began to draw the cord of the\nbow swiftly back and forth across the flat piece of wood, just as the\nblack man had done.  He worked and worked--and at last his nose\ncaught the smell of the blue mist, though he could not see the mist\nbecause of the darkness of the cave.  But he saw beautiful, bright\nsparks darting along the groove in the wood.  By that time, his right\narm ached as if it had been twisted and beaten with a club; but he\nkept the bow flying, and began to sprinkle the powdered grass with\nhis left hand.  Then (as he had seen in his dream) the small creature\nof magic life--the bright, yellow thing that ate the powdered grass\nand sprang upward for more--flashed into being on the slab of wood\nbetween his knees.  The squaw uttered a low cry of wonder; but\nPorcupine Killer said not a word.  He fed dry moss and grass to the\nwonderful thing--and it grew, and flashed with a redder color.  Then,\ndoing what he had seen the naked, black man do, he slipped it from\nthe wood to the heap of dry stuff at his side.  The bright tongues\nleapt upward, throwing a beautiful light into every corner of the\ncave.  The mist, which seemed to be its breath, streamed along the\ntop of the cave and floated out through a hole in the rocky roof.\nThe man heaped fragments of seasoned wood upon it, one by one.  Then\nhe felt the heat on his face and hands, and all through the chilly\ncave, like summer.\n\n\"'Come close,' he said to the woman.  'It is warm as the sun when the\nwillows have their leaves and the yellow butterflies swarm on the\nsand by the river.'\n\n\"'What is it?  What is this strange thing that you have made with\nyour hands?' whispered the woman.\n\n\"'Nay, I did not make it.  It is the gift of some kind god, bestowed\non me while I dreamed,' replied Porcupine Killer.  'Come close, and\nfeel the comfort of it Do not fear it, for I am sure it is good.  If\nit is not good, then why does the sight of it awaken joy in my heart?'\n\n\"The woman drew near, with her baby in her arms; and now, for the\nfirst time in her life, she felt the warmth of fire.\n\n\"'It is like the sun in the spring time,' she said.  'It melts the\nchill of the frost out of my bones, and gladdens my eyes.'\n\n\"But Porcupine Killer did not answer, for he was busy feeding the new\nfire with all the wood he could find in the cave; and, of course, the\nfire grew and grew, and sent showers of sparks flying along the roof.\n\n\"'It grows too fast,' cried the woman.  'You feed it with too much\ndry wood.  It may eat up the stone walls of the cave, if it grows any\nlarger.'\n\n\"Just then, a spark dropped on the bed of grass and moss and leaves\nand, in a moment, a little flame began leaping here and there.  But\nPorcupine Killer, who had a bright mind, saw the danger.  He snatched\nup the burning stuff in his hands and threw it upon the big fire.\nThe little flame touched his fingers.  He cried out, with pain and\nsurprise.\n\n\"'What is the matter?' asked the woman.\n\n\"'The magic thing stung me,' replied Porcupine Killer.\"\n\nThe old medicine woman ceased her talk and lit the tobacco in her\npipe with a brand from the fire.  Flying Plover waited politely until\nhe saw, by the clouds of tobacco smoke, that the pipe was well\nalight.  Then, as his grandmother seemed to have forgotten to go on\nwith the story, he said, \"I wonder if that was truly the way fire\nfirst came to our tribe?\"\n\nSquat-by-the-fire glanced at him quickly, but never said a word.  She\nknew that the little boy was trying to get her to go on with the\nstory--and that was what she had not the slightest intention of\ndoing.  If she went on telling him stories as long as he would\nlisten, neither of them would ever get any sleep, and her brain would\nbecome quite dry and brittle from too much inventing.\n\n\"I think Porcupine Killer must have been sorry that he did not have\nanything to cook at his fine, new fire,\" remarked the little boy.\n\nThe old woman was just going to tell him that people did not know\nanything about cooking in those days--but she didn't.  Flying Plover\nwas clever; but so was she.  Instead of saying the words that so\nnearly slipped from her tongue, she gave a raspy little cough.  Then,\nin a faint whisper, she said, \"My throat is so sore from talking so\nmuch, that I fear all the skin is worn off the inside of it.\"\n\nThat seemed a very strange and interesting thing to Flying Plover.\n\n\"Oh, let me see it,\" he cried.  \"How long will it take to grow on\nagain?\"\n\nHis grandmother almost lost her temper at that.  Anyway, she soon had\nhim snug in bed; and it was not long before he was sound asleep.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\n  HOW PORCUPINE KILLER LEARNED STILL\n  MORE ABOUT THE WONDERFUL FIRE\n\nDuring the night snow began to fall.  In the morning the sky was\nstill gray with it; and all day it continued to weave its gray\ncurtains in the windless air.  So little Flying Plover stayed indoors\nmost of the day, cutting and gouging at the block of wood which he\nhopefully believed would soon resemble a caribou, and watching old\nSquat-by-the-fire at her medicine-work.  The old woman did not talk\nmuch while she was mixing and attending to the pots, of steeping\nherbs; but by mid-afternoon she was ready to go on with the telling\nof her story.  Her voice sounded quite natural again, and the little\nboy wondered that the skin had grown on it so quickly.  But he said\nnothing about his wonderment, for he did not want to divert her from\nthe story.\n\n\"When Porcupine Killer felt the burn of the fire on his hand he was\nfrightened at first,\" said the old woman, \"but he soon recovered from\nhis fright, and began to study the blazing sticks and red coals very\nattentively.  He held out his hand, feeling the pleasant warmth.  He\nadvanced it closer and closer to the flames, noticing that the warmth\nincreased and still increased the nearer he went, until at last it\nhurt.  Then he touched a red coal with his finger--and that made him\nhop.  He sucked his finger, and thought very hard.  'It stings when\nyou touch it,' he said, 'but if you do not touch it, it gives you\nwarmth, like the sun in summer.  If I take a stick in my hand, at the\nend where this wonder-creature is not eating, and thrust it against\nmy enemy, then, without hurting me, it will sting my enemy.'\n\n\"'Yes,' said the squaw.  'But look, it has eaten nearly all the wood,\nand is falling smaller and smaller, like a snowdrift in May,' she\nadded.\n\n\"Porcupine Killer thought of a dry, dead spruce tree that lay near\nthe mouth of his cave, flat along the ground where a great wind had\nthrown it a year before.  But he was afraid to go out, unprotected,\nto break branches from this tree and drag them back to the cave.  It\nwas not yet night, and the giant beasts would be waiting for him.  He\nsaw one long stick in the fire that was burning for only half its\nlength and, heeding a voice within him that told him to trust in the\nnew gift of the gods, he took up the stick by the unscorched end,\ncrawled through the mouth of the cave, and ran to the fallen tree.\nAs he ran--'twas only the distance of a dozen strides--he waved the\nlong stick around his head.  It was twined 'round with red and yellow\nflames, and smoke and sparks flew upward from it.  He saw two great\nwolves spring out of the forest on his left, glare at him with\nglowing eyes and gaping jaws, turn and flee back into the forest.  He\nsaw a fox (as big as a wolf of to-day) slink out of his path.  Then\nhe knew that this new and wonderful thing was as surely a terror to\nthe beasts as it was a joy to him.  They did not even wait for its\nsting.  They fled, like hunted hares, at the sight of it!  And he\nknew that this terror of it must have been born in the wolves and\nfoxes even as the joy in it, and love of it, had been born in him.\nHe leaned the burning stick against the trunk of the fallen tree and\nquickly tore off an armful of the dry branches.  Leaving the flaming\nstick behind him, he ran back to the cave and quickly replenished the\nfire.  Again he returned to the tree and loaded his arms.  Three\ntimes he made the short journey, swiftly, but without much fear of\nthe beasts.  He knew that many fierce animals were watching him; but\nhis faith in their terror of the burning stick was great.  When he\ncrawled from the cave to get the fourth load of wood, a wonderful\nsight met his eyes.  The flames from the stick had leapt into the dry\nbranches of the tree and cloaked them in red and yellow.  Swiftly it\nleapt from branch to branch until, in a twinkling, the tree was\nblazing along its whole length, from roots to crown.  It made a loud\ncrackling noise and a roaring like the voices of wind and water.\nSmoke and sparks flew upward in clouds.\n\n[Illustration: \"He waved the long stick around his head\"]\n\n\"For a few minutes Porcupine Killer stood just outside the mouth of\nhis cave and gazed at the wonderful sight with awe.  The first thin\ndarkness was creeping over the world, and in the gloom the flames and\nsparks and smoke made a terrible picture for eyes that had never seen\nsuch a thing before.  But the little chill of fear quickly left his\nheart as soon as he began to reason with his brain.  This\ncreature--one moment so small, and suddenly so great--was his friend\nand the friend of all mankind.  It was a wonderful gift that had been\ngiven to him in a beautiful dream.  So he ran forward and stood as\nclose to the fire as he could.  The heat of it was very great--and\nthe roaring of the flames and the crackling of the dry wood was loud\nin his ears.  He knew that many eyes must now be staring at the great\nsight in fear and astonishment and wonder--eyes of his fierce enemies\nand eyes of his hunted, starving people.  Many caves were in the same\nrocky hillside as his own.  With his back to the noise and the\nleaping flames, he stood tall and brave against the terrible red\nlight and waved his arms high above his head.\n\n\"'Come to me, my people!' he cried, with all the strength of his\nvoice.  'Come to me, and this magic thing will protect you from your\nenemies.'\n\n\"Broken Arrow was the first to find courage to leave his cave and\ndraw near to the fire.  He was closely followed by Winter Morning,\nthe chief.  Porcupine Killer told them in a few words of his dream\nand how he had made the fire in his cave; of its comforting warmth;\nof its sting; and how the animals feared the sight of it.  Soon a\ndozen men and boys stood near the blazing tree.\n\n\"'Now is the time to hunt for food,' said Porcupine Killer.  'Do not\ngo beyond the edge of the red light.'\n\n\"They found the body of a huge caribou, freshly killed by the wolves\nand but half eaten.  They cut the flesh from it with their stone\nknives and axes, and carried it to their caves.  Porcupine Killer\nworked with the others and carried two great lumps of meat to his\ncave; but he kept his eye on the burning tree.  He soon noticed that\nit was quickly lessening in size and heat.  All the branches were\ngone and the great trunk alone glowed on the rocky ground.  Flames\nand sparks still shot up from it in places, and here and there it had\ncrumbled to masses of red coals.  Dark night had fallen by now, and\nthe light from the fire was drawing in, narrower and narrower, every\nminute.  By the failing glow of it, Porcupine-Killer gathered a great\nmany pieces of wood-roots and fallen branches and stumps, and heaped\nthem close beside the mouth of his cave.  He told Broken Arrow (who\nwas a clever young warrior) and old Winter Morning, the chief, how\nfire could be kept inside one's cave and fed with sticks; and he\nlighted two long branches at the glowing coals and gave one into the\nhands of each.  Many of the other men, seeing this and hearing\nPorcupine Killer's words, lit sticks for themselves and ran back to\ntheir caves, waving them in the air.\n\n\"It was quite dark, and the great beasts were roaring and howling and\nbarking on all sides, when the first man who had ever made fire in\nthis part of the world returned to his cave.\n\n\"He found the fire burning very low,--just a bed of coals,--for the\nwoman was afraid to feed it with sticks.  He soon had it blazing\nbrightly; and then, sitting very close to it, he began to cut one of\nthe big lumps of caribou meat into small pieces, so that he and his\nwife might eat after their long hunger.  One of the pieces fell close\nto the red coals at the edge of the fire.  He did not notice it, but\nsoon he began to sniff and look about on every side.\n\n\"'What is that queer smell?' he asked.  'It is a smell that increases\nmy hunger.  What new thing have you in the cave?'\n\n\"The squaw told him that there was nothing new in the cave except the\nfire and the caribou meat.  But she, too, noticed the smell and began\nto sniff and sniff.  Her husband (who had not the baby to hold) was\nso attracted by the strange smell that he laid aside the flint knife\nand the big lump of meat and went sniffing around the cave, as a\nhungry dog sniffs around the outside of a store-house.  But he was\nsoon back at the fire again, where the smell was much stronger than\nanywhere else; and then he happened to see the small piece of meat\nthat had fallen close to the red coals.  Its color had changed.  It\nwas red no longer, but brown as a ripe nut; and from it floated up\nthe smell that made him feel even more hungry than he had felt\nbefore.  He touched it with his finger.  It was very hot, so of\ncourse he stuck his finger in his mouth.  Hah, but it tasted good!\nHe had never really liked the taste of flesh before, but had always\neaten it quickly, in big mouthfuls, simply to fill his stomach; but\nthis piece, that had been turned from red to brown by the fire, had a\ntaste to it that made him think of eating with joy.  With a small\nstick he drew it away from the hot coals, and soon the sting of the\nfire went out of it and he could hold it in his hands without feeling\nany pain.  He cut it in two with his flint knife and gave one half to\nhis wife.  And they were the first people to eat roasted caribou meat\nthat I ever heard of!  They liked it so well that they cut many more\nslices and placed them close to the red coals of the fire; and the\ngood, hunger-making smell floated out of the cave and set all sorts\nof animals to sniffing and howling.  They liked the strange smell,\ntoo (though they never learned to like it as well as the smell of raw\nmeat); but they were afraid to go near the cave in the rocky\nhill-side from which the smell came, for out of that same cave shone\nthe red glare of that terrible thing which had eaten up the dead\nspruce tree.  They saw the same red glare at the mouths of other\ncaves and what was left of the spruce tree still glowing angrily in\nthe dark; so they crouched in a great circle and howled and roared.\"\n\nOld Squat-by-the-fire stopped her talk suddenly, and began cutting\ntobacco for her pipe.  Little Flying Plover sat very still, gazing\ninto the fire.  He could see all sorts of queer things under the\ndancing flames, deep among the red coals--lodges, and hunters running\nbeside dog-sledges, and warriors fighting mighty battles.\n\n\"Why were the animals afraid of the fire?\" he asked.\n\n\"It was their nature to fear it,\" replied his grandmother.\n\n\"Why didn't it frighten the men, too?\" asked the boy.\n\nSquat-by-the-fire wrinkled her forehead and puffed hard at her pipe,\nbut did not answer.  Flying Plover waited for a minute, and then\nasked, \"Are animals afraid of fire now?\"\n\nHis grandmother nodded her head.\n\n\"But dogs are not afraid of it.  Dogs like to lie by the fire, all\nday and all night,\" said the boy.\n\n\"Dogs were not always fond of fire.  When they were wild--before they\nhad been tamed by man--they did not like it at all,\" replied the old\nwoman.\n\nShe puffed very fiercely at her pipe.  \"But you must not ask me any\nmore questions now,\" she said.  \"I must boil the medicine for Red\nCloud's baby again.  It is a very great medicine and has to be boiled\nfive times, in all, and let cool after each boiling.  So you must not\ndisturb me, little son of a chief.  Carve at your caribou again, if\nthe snow is still falling, and I will tell you another story\nto-night, if you are a good boy.\"\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n  WHY OLD KING WALRUS WENT AWAY\n  FROM THE MOUNTAINEERS' COUNTRY\n\nFlying Plover was a good boy.  He carved at the stubborn block of\nwood until it looked quite unlike a block of wood and had four legs,\nlike a caribou.  Then he whittled away at two arrows, and mended one\nof his snowshoes.  He did not once disturb his grandmother at her\nmedicine-making; so after the evening meal the old woman said that,\nas he had behaved himself so well and worked so busily, she would\ntell him another story.\n\n\"I want to know why all the animals are smaller now than they used to\nbe,\" said the boy.  \"I want to know how that happened and when--and\nwho did it.\"\n\n\"Easy, easy!\" cried Squat-by-the-fire.  \"You go too fast with your\n'want to know this' and your 'want to know that.'  Stories are not\ntold by the answering of questions.  You will hear about the changing\nof the animals later--but to-night I am going to tell you why old\nKing Walrus went back to his own country.\"\n\nShe scratched her head, and stared very hard at the fire, as if she\nfound a good deal of difficulty in remembering the facts.  And that\nis not to be wondered at, considering how long ago it was that King\nWalrus went away from Labrador, and how many queer things had\nhappened since then.  Little Flying Plover often wondered at the way\nhis grandmother remembered those very ancient happenings, and yet\nsometimes forgot little things that he could remember perfectly\nclearly.  Well, she scratched her head, and stared at the fire--and,\npresently, she remembered.\n\n\"When King Walrus heard about the strange thing in front of the\ntwo-legged people's hillside,\" she said, \"he floundered to the top of\na near-by hummock and looked at it in wonder and with a queer feeling\ninside him.  The queer feeling was fear--and King Walrus had never\nfelt it before.  He looked at the leaping flames and wondered if the\nsky had broken and the red sunset had fallen on the world.  He looked\nat the smoke which poured up in black clouds and white clouds and\nblue clouds; and he thought that they, too, had fallen from the sky\nand were now hurrying back to it.  And the sparks?  Why, the stupid\nold fellow thought those were stars.  His people--the smaller\nwalruses and bears and arctic foxes that had followed him from the\nice-fields--told him that the terrible creature was eating a tree\njust as they would eat a fresh cod-fish.  They told him to listen,\nand they would hear it growling and cracking the dry wood with its\nred teeth.  The old Walrus listened, and sure enough, he heard those\nterrible sounds.  So it was certainly not the sky.  'I hope it will\nnot stay in this country,' he said.  'Where did it come from?'\n\n\"A fox said 'One of the man-creatures carried it out to the dead tree\nfrom his den.  It was very small at first--no bigger than my\ntongue--and danced on the end of a long stick.  But it was frightful\nto look at, even then.'\n\n\"'Why did you not jump upon it, and kill it, when it was so small?'\nasked old King Walrus.  But he did not speak in his usual loud voice.\n\n\"'I had not the courage,' said the fox.  'And I saw some animals, who\nare much larger and stronger than I am, turn around and run away,\ntoo,' he added.\n\n\"Old blubber-sides could not think of anything just then but the\nroaring fire in the valley below.  Though he had believed, at first,\nthat it was a piece of the red, sunset sky, now that he could hear it\ngrowling and biting the wood with its teeth, he felt sure that it was\nsome terrible, new animal that would want to fight him as soon as it\nhad finished eating the tree.  But what had it been doing in the den\nof one of the little, miserable, two-legged men-folk?  He lay there\non the hummock and stared and stared, expecting, every moment, to see\nit move toward him.\n\n\"Then the fox who had spoken before said, 'The same man who put it in\nthe branches of the tree has another creature of the same kind in his\nden.  I smelt it--and I saw its breath rising through a crack in the\nrocks.'\n\n\"For a moment King Walrus turned his great head from the direction of\nthe blazing tree and looked at the fox.  'Go down and examine it\nclosely, and see if it has any legs,' he said.  For a few seconds the\nfox did not know what to do or say, and felt very foolish.  He was\nafraid of King Walrus--but he was much more afraid of the awful, new\nthing down in the valley.  But his wits soon came back to him.  He\ntold the walrus that, of course, he would gladly obey his command;\nand he immediately started off at a brisk trot toward the burning\ntree.  He kept on in that direction for about a hundred yards, and\nthen, reaching a thicket of alders, he skipped in among the twisted\nstems, changed his course, and ran for fully a mile in a great\nhalf-circle.  That brought him out on a hilltop at a safe distance\nfrom both the fire and the walrus, and yet in sight of both.  Then he\nsat down comfortably to see what would happen.\n\n\"Well, as the wood burned away, and fell to coals and ashes, the\ngreat fire in the valley became smaller and smaller.  Night grew dark\nover all the wilderness, save where the sparks broke from the\nbursting timber and the mouths of several of the men-folk's caves\nshone red with the little fires within.\n\n\"'See, it gets smaller and smaller, every minute,' said King Walrus\nto his people.  It is but a poor creature, after all, and will soon\nbe dead.  It is nothing but some foolish little magic of the\nmiserable two-legged people.'\n\n\"Then a wolf said, 'Yes, it may die, but I think it has cubs in every\none of the frightened people's dens.  And they will grow, quick as\nwater running over a stone, and they, too, may have many cubs.'\n\n\"At last the flames ceased to dance at all on the ashes of the dead\nspruce tree, and the watching animals could see only a few red spots\nhere and there.  Hours went by, and still they sat on every hilltop\noverlooking the valley, howling and snarling and roaring, and staring\nwith their wide, yellow eyes.  At last they could see no sign of life\nat all in the fire.  Then they shouted, one to another, that the\nterrible creature was dead; and a number of the bravest of\nthem--three walruses, and several bears and wolves--stole down to see\nwhat kind of a dinner the body would make.  That is what they were\nalways thinking about everything--how it would feel in their stomachs.\n\nOn the way down to the valley, a bear and a walrus pushed against\neach other and immediately began to fight.  Soon the smell of blood\nwas strong in the air, and all the animals that had started down to\ntry to eat the dead body of the fire tried to eat one another\ninstead.  Two great bears, with their claws and their teeth deep in\neach other's hides, went rolling down a steep side of a hill straight\ninto the coals and ashes of the spruce tree.  Of course the fire was\nnot dead!  There was a great bed of hot, red coals under the ashes.\nLittle flames sprang up around the bodies of the fighting bears, and\nbegan to eat the long, thick coats of fur.  The bears felt the awful\nstings, and quickly let go of each other and scrambled to their feet.\nTheir backs and sides were smarting and their noses and paws were\nterribly blistered.  They saw the red and yellow coals all about\nthem, blinking and shining like the eyes of wicked devils--and their\nhearts melted with fear.  Away they ran, howling and roaring, with\nthe flames leaping high on their backs.  It was a frightful sight.\nThe animals that saw it, all dashed away to their dens, fearing that\nthe dreadful red creatures might chase them and spring upon their\nbacks as they had sprung upon the backs of the fighting bears.  Even\nold King Walrus went heaving and lumbering away, and hid between two\nhummocks of rock.  As for the unfortunate bears who had rolled into\nthe fire, they ran straight ahead, without caring or seeing or\nthinking where they were running to.  They were blind with terror and\nmad with pain.  They ran and ran until at last one of them fell into\nBeaver River and the other into Black Fox Pond.  Of course the water\nkilled the fire on their backs and sides, but for a long time they\njust swam around and around in the cold water.  At last, though they\nstill smarted and ached all over, they knew that the terrible\ncreatures had gone away from them.  So they swam ashore--one to the\nbank of the river and one to the bank of the pond--and ran seaward as\nhard as they could.  All they thought about was the quickest way of\ngetting out of that terrible country.\n\n[Illustration: \"Away they ran, howling and roaring\"]\n\n\"Now it happened that Porcupine Killer and the other men of the tribe\nknew nothing about the trouble of the two bears and the fright which\nall the other animals had received.  If they had known they would\nhave felt very happy.  They had heard more howls and yells and roars\nthan usual, but did not know what the trouble was.  When Porcupine\nKiller awoke he fed the coals of his fire with sticks of dry wood,\nand broiled several slices of caribou meat for breakfast.  He was\nvery merry, and could not help singing when he thought of how life\nhad changed since the morning before.  Now he and his wife and baby,\nand nearly every one in the tribe, had food to eat, and a warmth like\nsunlight in their caves, and a friend that struck terror to the\nhearts of the fierce animals.  His wife awoke at the noise of his\nsong (for he was not a very fine singer) and she, too, was happy as\nsoon as the fog of sleep had passed from her mind and she remembered\nthe wonderful thing that had happened.  After they had eaten,\nPorcupine Killer said, 'I am going out to frighten the animals\nagain--and to-day they shall be frightened more than they were\nyesterday.  This wonderful thing that dances and whispers so\npeacefully on the floor of our cave is greater than all the fangs and\nclaws and tusks of all the animals in the world.  And it is my\nfriend--the friend of the tribe.  I shall hunt old King Walrus\nhimself, and cause him to repent of the evil he has done.'\n\n\"The woman begged him not to be rash.  The giant animals had ruled\nthe country so long, and hunted men as men hunt hares and foxes now,\nthat she could not believe that anything was stronger than the\nanimals.  But Porcupine Killer had no fear, since he had seen the\npower of the fire.  He looked out of the mouth of the cave, and saw\nthe ashes of the fire lying black and gray on the rocky ground.  He\nlooked all around the sides of the valley, lying quiet in the\nbrightness of the autumn morning, and could not see so much as a\nskulking fox.  He crawled out and looked to the right and left, at\nthe holes in the rocky hillside where so many of his own people\nlived.  He saw little wisps of smoke rising here and there from among\nthe boulders and from the mouths of some of the caves.  He shouted\nfor the hidden warriors to come out.  Winter Morning, the chief, and\nBroken Arrow were the first to appear.  Porcupine Killer called to\nthem that he was going on a great hunt, and that they should see\nwonderful things happen before the sun had reached the top of the sky.\n\n\"'We saw many wonders yesterday, great Magician,' said Winter\nMorning.  'What new wonders will you show us to-day?'\n\n\"'I am not a magician,' replied Porcupine Killer, who was an honest\nyoung man.  'But the wonder you shall see to-day will be the hunting\nof the fierce animals that have hunted us since the beginning of\ntime.'\n\n\"Six warriors joined Porcupine Killer in front of his cave.  They\nlooked at every hill and wood and rock, but could not see one of\ntheir enemies.  'We are the masters of the world,' said Porcupine\nKiller.  He took a burning stick in his hand, from his own fire, and\nled the warriors to the other side of the little valley.  They passed\nthe long heap of dead ashes and coals, where the tree had burned the\nnight before.  The ashes were still warm, and deep in the middle of\nthe mass a few coals were still alive.  At the far side of the valley\nthey threw together a great heap of dry bushes and moss and fallen\nlogs.  To this Porcupine Killer set a flame from the torch in his\nhand; and in a minute it was crackling and breathing and blazing, and\nlifting clouds of black smoke into the air.  Then each warrior took a\nblazing stick from the heap, and again Porcupine Killer led them\nforward.  They had not gone far before two wolves sprang from a grove\nof spruces in front of them and went galloping away.  At that, the\nwarriors shouted and laughed, and waved their blazing sticks.  It\nmade them feel great and brave to see the very same beasts that were\nin the habit of hunting them turn tail and run at the sight of them.\nThey went up to the top of the hill and there built another fire in a\nrocky place.  And so they moved forward over hills and hummocks and\nbarrens, and through patches of dark forest, sending all manner of\nanimals fleeing before them.  Here and there they built and lit new\nfires, to protect their homeward trail; but Porcupine Killer chose\nthe places for these fires with great care.  'It does not eat rocks,'\nhe said.  So all the fires were made on rocky places, away from trees\nand bushes.  Porcupine Killer had a thought in the back of his head\nthat it would not be wise for all the forests in the country to be\ndevoured by this wonderful new creature.\n\n\"At last the warriors came upon old King Walrus himself, lying sound\nasleep in a narrow valley between two small hills.  He was all alone,\nfor his followers had deserted him during the night.  Porcupine\nKiller made a sign to his companions to be very quiet.  They hid\nalong the crest of one of the hills, above the great, round back of\nKing Walrus.  Then Porcupine Killer gathered a huge armful of dry\nmoss and twigs, set it alight with his torch, and threw it down upon\nthe walrus's back.  Then, standing on a high rock and waving his\ntorch so that the smoke and sparks flew thick and fast, he shouted,\n'Wake up, old blubbersides, and return to your own country!  Wake up\nand see the Red Spirit sitting on your back!'\n\n\"Through his heavy, troubled dreams old King Walrus heard the voice\nand felt a horrible sting in his fat back.  He lifted his huge head\nand cast one glance at Porcupine Killer and the flaming stick.  He\nfelt the teeth of the terrible red creature, and knew that it had\ncaught him in his sleep.  With a bellow of terror that nearly\ndeafened the hidden warriors, he floundered out of the valley and\ntravelled seaward as fast as he could go.\"\n\nSquat-by-the-fire puffed hard at her pipe, and stared into the fire.\n\n\"Did he get home?\" asked Flying Plover.\n\n\"Yes.  He reached the sea, and dashed into the deep water, and swam\nstraight home to his lands of ice and snow,\" replied the old woman.\n\n\"And what did Porcupine Killer do?\" asked the little boy.\n\n\"He went home, too, and cooked a fine caribou steak for his dinner.\"\n\n\"Did all the animals run out of the country?\"\n\n\"No.  In time they lost some of their fear of the fire.  But they\nwere always afraid to go very close to it.\"\n\n\"When were the animals made as small as they are now?\"\n\n\"That belongs to another story.  If I tell you any more now, my brain\nwill split and the skin will come off my throat again,\" replied the\nold woman.\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nANOTHER STORY OF GLUSKAP AND HIS PEOPLE\n\n\"A time came when the great animals in Gluskap's own country broke\nthe good rules he had made for them,\" began old Squat-by-the-fire.\n\"They were so big and strong, and had become so accustomed to seeing\nGluskap in the form of a small young man, that they forgot how\npowerful he was.  They were by nature fierce and bloodthirsty, though\nthey had hidden the evil deep in their hearts for many years.  The\ntrouble was started by a great wolf.  He stuck his head into a man's\nlodge and glared at the man's children until they all began to cry\nwith fright.  Then the man was angry, and struck the wolf on the\nsnout with a club.  At that, the wolf caught the man between his\ncruel jaws and killed him.  The taste of the human blood awoke all\nthe evil that had been sleeping for so long in his heart.  Then he\nran about the country, chasing men and women and every animal smaller\nor weaker than himself, and killing many of them.  At sight of that\nall the other wolves and fierce animals felt a madness in their\nbrains, and began to hunt and kill.  Gluskap left his lodge at the\nnoise and looked about him with eyes that could see for the distance\nof a four days' journey.  At sight of the blood and the hunting\nbeasts he was filled with anger.  By his magic he made himself as\nhigh as a mountain.  Then he caught the animals in his great hands,\nreaching here and there after them, across hills and valleys; and as\nhe returned each animal to the ground it was as small as its kind is\nto-day.  And this he did all over the world; and from that day to\nthis the animals have no more been masters of the wilderness.  Then\nhe led the men and women and children of the tribe, who had been in\nhis care for so many years, far away to a country of thick forest and\nbroad rivers--a finer country, I have heard, than even this land of\nours.  There they built villages and prospered, and for many hundreds\nof years Gluskap continued to be as a father to them.\"\n\n\"What did his people do, in their fine new country?\" asked Flying\nPlover.\n\n\"They did many things,\" replied the old woman.  \"I have heard from\nMicmacs on the coast that in time there came to be many magicians in\nthat country.  Some of the magic was good, such as Gluskap himself\nknew; and some was bad--and that was practiced by his enemies.  Yes,\nhe had many enemies--evil people who hated him because he always\nfought against evil.\"\n\n\"Please tell me something about the magic,\" begged the little boy.\n\nThe old medicine woman thought for a long time, and scratched her\nhead very hard.\n\n\"I know only one story about the magic of Gluskap's people--and I am\nnot sure if it is a true story or not, for I heard it from a Micmac\nfisherman on the coast,\" she said.\n\n\"Long ago, in the country of Gluskap's people--the new country to\nwhich he had led them from the barren lands--there lived three boys\nin one big lodge.  They were the sons of the chief of the village.\nOne day, while they were at play in the woods at some distance from\ntheir father's lodge, they heard a sudden squeak and a sound of\nstruggling in a nearby thicket.  They ran swiftly to the place, and\nwere in time to save a little brown hare from the hunger of a\nwildcat.  They beat the wildcat with sticks until it sprang away.\nThey carried the wounded hare to their lodge, and there washed and\ndressed its hurts.  In a day or two it was able to hop about the\nlodge.  One morning, when the father and mother were fishing in the\nriver, the hare spoke to the children with a human voice.  'My\nfriends,' it said, 'to-day I must journey far to the northward, on\nGluskap's business.  For your kindness to me each of you shall\nreceive a magic gift.  I shall name the gifts, so each can make his\nchoice, and to-night you will find them at the door of your lodge.'\nThe boys were dumb with wonder, for they knew that the little brown\nhare must be a great magician.  'First,' the hare continued, 'are the\nmoccasins of the wind.  With these on his feet a man can run above\nthe tree-tops, on the currents of the air.  Second, is the wallet of\nplenty.  With this at his belt, a man will never lack either food or\nwater.  The third gift is an arrow of red wood, feathered with red\nand barbed with yellow metal.'\n\n\"The oldest boy chose the moccasins of the wind.  The second in age\nsaid that the wallet of plenty seemed a fine thing to him.  So the\nyoungest got the red arrow.  Then the hare hopped away into the\nbushes; and at night the three gifts lay by the door of the lodge.\nThe seasons passed.  The boy who possessed the moccasins of the wind\nbecame a great hunter and warrior.\n\n\"When he was twenty years of age he was made chief of the village.\nHis lodge was spread deep with the pelts of wolves and bears and\nfoxes.  He was a great man--and all owing to the virtue of the magic\nmoccasins.  But he did not always remember that.  He was full of\npride.  The second brother grew sleek, and slow of wit.  Cooked food\nand fresh water were always at his side, so he was content to sit\nstill.  But the youngest of the brothers was neither famous nor lazy.\nHe was a brave fighter, but he led no war parties.  He was a good\nhunter and worked hard for his living.  He could find no magic in the\nred arrow, though he had put it to many tests.  It shot no straighter\nand flew no farther than the other shafts in his quiver.  But he\nalways kept it near him, ready for whatever might happen, for his\nfaith in its virtue was strong.\n\n\"One day in early autumn the young man with the red arrow left the\nvillage of his people.  Something had spoken to him in his sleep, and\nhad told him that a great adventure awaited him in a far country.  So\nhe journeyed northward and westward, by whatever trails came most\nreadily to his feet.  Game was plenty, so he did not want for food.\nOn the evening of the third day of his journey he came to the edge of\na great barren.  It spread before him, treeless from horizon to\nhorizon.  But a little voice in his brain told him that his way led\nstraight on.\n\n\"After he had traveled over that great barren for more than two days\nhe saw a line of blue hills far to the north.  While he was still\nmany miles distant from them he caught sight of something running\nswiftly toward him.  As it drew near him he saw, greatly to his\nwonder, that it was a young woman.  Her eyes were bright with terror,\nand she ran unsteadily over the rough ground.  When she saw the young\nman she swerved in her course and ran to him, crying out that a\nterrible wizard followed her in the form of a great bear.  The youth\nset an arrow to the string of his bow; and, as he waited for the bear\nto appear, the girl told him that he who hunted her was the most\npowerful of all the evil wizards, and that he could take upon himself\nat pleasure the form of any bird or animal.\n\n[Illustration: Suddenly the great bear appeared, galloping heavily]\n\n\"Suddenly the great bear appeared, galloping heavily but swiftly.\nIts small eyes burned with ferocity.  Its narrow, scarlet tongue hung\nfrom its jaws.  As the youth drew his bow he noticed that the red\narrow was the one he had chanced to draw from his belt.  He loosed it\nstraight at the shoulder of the advancing beast.  It flashed from the\nstring and vanished.  The bear advanced.  The young brave trembled,\nand the girl cried out in dismay.  But in a second the red arrow fell\nat its master's feet, and across its haft hung the moccasins of the\nwind.  In a flash the young man understood.  He tore his own\nmoccasins from his feet and replaced them with the magic pair.  Then\nhe returned the red arrow to his quiver and caught the girl in his\narms.  She felt no heavier than a young fox, so great was the magic\nof the moccasins.\n\n\"'Have no fear,' he said, and sprang away.  Under his speeding feet\nthe earth swam back and melted behind them, and the gray, brown,\nblue, and red of its tinted surface mixed like colored waters.  For a\nthousand miles the wizard followed, now with the stride of a moose,\nnow with the wings of an eagle; but he was left so far behind in the\nfirst half-second that he lost both scent and sight of them before\nthe magic moccasins had made a dozen strides.  So you may believe\nthat at the end of his thousand miles he was very far on the wrong\ntrail.  When the young man paused to take breath he found that floors\nand heaps of ice stretched away on all sides.  The air was bitterly\ncold.  Overhead the dome of heaven was alive with the magnificent,\ndrifting radiance of the Northern Lights.  The girl lay weakly\nagainst his arm, for the speed of their flight had held her breath in\nher nostrils.  Presently she opened her eyes and looked about her\nfearfully.\n\n\"'How came we to this place?' she asked.\n\n\"'By the magic of the moccasins of the wind,' he told her, pointing\ndown at the gaily beaded shoes on his feet.\n\n\"She trembled and hid her face.  'It was like death,' she said.\n\n\"Then the youth understood that to endure the tremendous flight of\nthe moccasins one must also be possessed of their strength.  For\nhours they wandered about in search of shelter and food.  In\nunhurried motion the young man's feet experienced none of the magic.\nHe was thankful for that.  At last the girl sank on the ice, faint\nfor want of food and drink.  Then the man bethought him of the red\narrow, and, fitting it to his bow, fired it at a distance.\n\n\"'Its virtue is so great,' he thought, 'that it may bring a fowl or a\nfish to me, to keep this woman from death.'  In a second the arrow\nwas at his feet, and midway on the red shaft hung the wallet of\nplenty.  Thankfully they ate and drank, and hearts and bodies\nrecovered strength.\n\n\"Many moons later the possessor of the red arrow, accompanied by the\nbeautiful young woman, approached the lodges of his own people.  At\nhis belt, securely wrapped in water-tight skins, he carried the\nmoccasins of the wind and the wallet of plenty.  He was an honest\nman, and wished to return them to the rightful owners uninjured.  A\nmile from the village they met the second brother--the man who had\nchosen the wallet of plenty from among the three gifts.  Upon his\nshoulders he carried a great stick of maple-wood.  In appearance he\nhad changed surprisingly since the other's departure.  The muscles\nstood out on his lean arms and legs, and his eyes were merry; whereas\nof old his limbs had been heavy with fat and his eyes dull.\n\n\"'Why do you carry that great log?' asked the wanderer, after they\nhad exchanged brotherly greetings.\n\n\"'To split and store away, for the making of paddles and arrow-shafts\nin the stormy days of winter,' replied the other.\n\n\"The wanderer handed him the wallet of plenty--but, upon opening it,\nthey found that it was empty.\n\n\"''Tis better so,' remarked the maker of paddles, as he hoisted the\nstick of maple back to his shoulders.\n\n\"At the outskirts of the village, in a modest wigwam, the young\ncouple found the eldest of the three brothers, the man who had chosen\nthe moccasins of the wind.  He was lying on a couch of skins, and his\nchildren played about the door.  His greeting was modest and kindly.\nBut he could not rise from his couch to welcome them.\n\n\"'In my pride,' he said, 'I forgot that my prowess in the chase and\nthe battle was all of the magic moccasins.  I thought myself the very\nequal of Gluskap.  But the moccasins flew away from me, and in the\nnext hunt I was stricken to the earth by a wounded moose--for I was\nno stronger than the youngest warrior and no swifter than the oldest\nchief.'\n\n\"The new-comer produced the moccasins of the wind from the bag at his\nside, and gave them into the hands of the fallen chieftain.  At that\nmoment a tall stranger entered the wigwam and took the moccasins from\nhis hands.  Then, turning to the other, he took the red arrow from\nthe quiver.  Already the wallet of plenty hung at his belt of blue\nwampum.\n\n\"'The three gifts were equal in the sight of Gluskap,' he said, 'but\nyou see how you have driven their magic to the desires of your own\nhearts.  Only the red arrow worked to its full power, and in doing so\nit has doubled its magic.  Now Gluskap has need of it, and takes it\nback as a gift from this young man.'  He turned, and glided from the\nlodge.\"\n\n\"Who was it?\" asked Flying Plover.\n\n\"I don't know; but perhaps it was Gluskap himself,\" replied the old\nwoman.\n\n\"Do you know any more stories about the red arrow?\" asked the boy.\n\n\"Perhaps I do,\" said the old woman.  \"But I'll not tell you any more\nto-night.\"\n\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n\n[Illustration: End paper--left]\n\n\n\n[Illustration: End paper--right]","title":"Flying Plover: His stories, told him by Squat-by-the-fire","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":15526}