{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_76039/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_76039","id":"gutenberg_76039","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76039","summary":null,"tags":["Beothuk Indians -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Adventure","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Fantasy fiction","Indians of North America -- Juvenile fiction","Newfoundland and Labrador -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"THE RED FEATHERS\n\n\n\n\nINDIAN AND HUNTING STORIES FOR BOYS\n\n\nCOMRADES OF THE TRAILS\n By THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS\n Cloth decorative, illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. $1.50\n\n A breezy tale of adventures in the Canadian wilds.\n\n\nFLYING PLOVER\n By THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS\n Cloth decorative, illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. $1.25\n\n A story of Indian life in Labrador.\n\n\nTHE RED FEATHERS\n By THEODORE GOODRIDGE ROBERTS\n Cloth decorative, illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. $1.50\n\n A story of remarkable adventures when the world was young.\n\n\nRALPH SOMERBY AT PANAMA\n By FRANCIS RALEIGH\n Cloth decorative, illustrated. $1.50\n\n A story of adventures with the Indians, Spaniards and roving pirates\n in the 16th century.\n\n\nHAWK: THE YOUNG OSAGE\n By C. H. ROBINSON\n Cloth decorative, illustrated. $1.25\n\n A story of Indian life and adventures in the 15th century.\n\n\nLONGHEAD\n By C. H. ROBINSON\n Cloth decorative, illustrated. $1.00\n\n An interesting book of prehistoric times.\n\n\nTHE YOUNG MOOSE HUNTERS\n By C. A. STEPHENS\n Cloth decorative, illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. $1.25\n\n A stirring story of adventures in the wilds of Maine.\n\n\n THE PAGE COMPANY\n 53 BEACON STREET, BOSTON, MASS.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: \u201cSPED HERE AND THERE THROUGH THE AIR, SWIFT AS A CHASING\nHAWK\u201d\n (_See page 25_)]\n\n\n\n\n The Red Feathers\n\n A Story of Remarkable Adventures\n When the World Was Young\n\n By Theodore Roberts\n\n AUTHOR OF \u201cBROTHERS OF PERIL,\u201d \u201cHEMMING THE ADVENTURER,\u201d ETC.\n\n _ILLUSTRATED AND DECORATED BY_\n Charles Livingston Bull\n\n [Illustration]\n\n Boston The Page\n Company Publishers\n\n\n\n\n _Copyright, 1907_\n BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY\n (INCORPORATED)\n\n _Entered at Stationers\u2019 Hall, London_\n\n _All rights reserved_\n\n Second Impression, June, 1908\n Third Impression, January, 1913\n Fourth Impression, December, 1915\n Fifth Impression, September, 1919\n\n THE COLONIAL PRESS\n C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n CHAPTER PAGE\n\n I. \u201cRUN-ALL-DAY\u201d 1\n\n II. THE TWO RED FEATHERS 7\n\n III. THE LITTLEST WARRIOR AND HIS SUMMER HOME 15\n\n IV. BRIGHT ROBE TELLS A STORY OF THE RED FEATHERS 20\n\n V. RUN-ALL-DAY\u2019S NEW-FOUND AMBITION 30\n\n VI. RUN-ALL-DAY VISITS WHISPERING GRASS 38\n\n VII. BRIGHT ROBE FINDS HIS ENEMY 47\n\n VIII. THE YOUTH RECOVERS HIS STRENGTH AND VISITS RUN-ALL-DAY 56\n\n IX. THE LITTLE BROWN OWL HUNTS FOR FOOD 73\n\n X. THE LITTLE BROWN OWL HAS MORE TROUBLE 81\n\n XI. THE MAGIC LODGE 90\n\n XII. THE ADVENTURE OF JUMPING WOLF 100\n\n XIII. RUN-ALL-DAY AGAIN MAKES USE OF THE RED FEATHERS 112\n\n XIV. THE GOOD MAGICIAN VISITS RUN-ALL-DAY\u2019S NEW VILLAGE 124\n\n XV. THE LITTLEST WARRIOR\u2019S GREAT PROSPECTS 136\n\n XVI. FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE LITTLE BROWN OWL 143\n\n XVII. A BRIEF RETURN TO POWER 153\n\n XVIII. THE MAKER OF CHIEFS 168\n\n XIX. THE THEFT OF THE RED FEATHERS 178\n\n XX. A JOURNEY TO THE MAGIC FOREST 189\n\n XXI. THE QUEST OF THE FEATHERS 202\n\n XXII. WISE-AS-A-SHE-WOLF AND CRACK BONE THE GIANT 213\n\n XXIII. HOW CRACK BONE WAS DOUBLY OUTWITTED 220\n\n XXIV. THE MAGICIANS AWAKE 229\n\n XXV. THE UNFINISHED BATTLE 238\n\n XXVI. BRIGHT ROBE\u2019S DISCRETION 249\n\n XXVII. THE DIPLOMACY OF BRIGHT ROBE 257\n\n XXVIII. THE QUEST 269\n\n XXIX. PEACE 278\n\n XXX. THE POISONED DART 288\n\n XXXI. THE FREEZING OF THE NARROW SEA 297\n\n XXXII. THE INVASION OF THE ISLAND 304\n\n XXXIII. THE RESCUE OF STAR FLOWER 315\n\n XXXIV. REST 319\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n PAGE\n\n \u201cSPED HERE AND THERE THROUGH THE AIR, SWIFT AS\n A CHASING HAWK\u201d (_See Page 25_) _Frontispiece_\n\n \u201cA GREAT STAG CARIBOU, AS HIGH AS A PINE, HAUNTED\n THE WILDS\u201d 1\n\n \u201cTHE ASTONISHED BUNNY HAD DEALT HIM A SHREWD\n BLOW WITH ONE OF HIS BIG HIND LEGS\u201d 75\n\n \u201cHERE A GOD STOOD HUGE AND BLACK AGAINST A SUNSET\n SKY, LOOKING OUT ACROSS A DARKENING WORLD\u201d 95\n\n \u201cHE SPRANG ASIDE INTO THE SHELTER OF A TREE\n TRUNK, AND PEERED BACK ALONG THE WAY HE HAD COME\u201d 105\n\n \u201cRED EYE UNTIED THE OPENING OF HIS WIGWAM, AND\n THE OWL FLOATED FROM HIS PERCH\u201d 154\n\n \u201cHE CLIMBED A HIGH TREE AT THE EDGE OF THE WOOD\u201d 199\n\n \u201cTHE HEAD AND SHOULDERS OF THE GIANT IMMEDIATELY\n APPEARED, AND FROM UNDER A FRINGE OF TANGLED HAIR A\n PAIR OF ALERT EYES, GRAY AS ICE, GLARED ABOUT\u201d 213\n\n \u201cTHEY PASSED BENEATH HIM, WHITE AS FROST AND DEATH\u201d 272\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: \u201cA GREAT STAG CARIBOU, AS HIGH AS A PINE, HAUNTED THE\nWILDS.\u201d]\n\n\n\n\nTHE RED FEATHERS\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\u201cRUN-ALL-DAY\u201d\n\n\nIn the days of which I write, in the island now known as Newfoundland,\nmen made prayers to the sun, the winds, the frost and the stars. They\nbelieved that giants lived in the north; that a great stag caribou, as\nhigh as a pine, haunted the wilds beyond the Narrow Sea to the west;\nthat gods moved about in divers shapes, doing good or evil as their\nnatures prompted them, and that certain wise and crafty men acquired\na knowledge of magic and thereby became stronger than the greatest\nwarriors. Fog, to these people, was the breath of an old god who lived\nto the eastward, just beneath the rim of the sea; and fire was a\nspirit,--the offspring of a god,--that sometimes was content to feed on\nthe fagots cut for it, cooking food for men and warming their bodies,\nand sometimes leaped into the woods and consumed the forest for miles\nin an outburst of fury.\n\nA man of the Beothic race named Run-all-day had a lodge on the River of\nThree Fires, about half-way between its mouth and Wind Lake. There he\nlived only in the warmer months of the year. At the approach of winter\nhe followed the great herds of caribou farther inland and southward,\nto the deeper forest and more sheltered barrens. During the summer he\nnetted and speared the salmon in the River of Three Fires, feeding\nhimself and his family on the flesh and smoking what could not be used\nthen for their winter supply. Early in October, before starting on the\ninland journey, his wife and children gathered nuts and berries, while\nhe hunted the fat caribou, which were already gathering in great herds\npreparatory to moving to the more sheltered feeding-grounds. With the\nvenison and the berries his wife, Red Willow, made a rough sort of\npemmican.\n\nRun-all-day was fleet of foot and strong of wind and leg. It was by\nhis speed and endurance when a boy that he had won his name. He had\nalso proved himself a warrior of prowess, when occasion demanded, and\nmight have followed his father as chief of a clan; but the islanders\nhappened to be entering on a long term of peace when he grew to\nmanhood, so he took a wife from another village and journeyed away from\nhis family. His wits were not as quick as his legs and he entertained\nno great ambitions of distinguishing himself. He was quite content to\nprotect and provide for his family--to sleep warm and eat his fill all\nthe year round and see them do the same. Of course, sometimes at the\ntail-end of a bad season, provisions ran low; but if any man could find\ngame and bring it to the ground, it was Run-all-day.\n\nOn a certain June evening, when the west was red and dusk was settling\nalong the edges of the woods, Run-all-day withdrew his net of raw-hide\nthongs from a big pool four miles above his wigwam and seated himself\non the grassy bank for a few minutes\u2019 rest before walking home.\nNine great silver fish lay beside him--a respectable load even for\nRun-all-day. To lessen their weight he had already slit them from\nthroat to tail, with his flint knife, and tossed the entrails into the\nbushes. He was well satisfied with his afternoon\u2019s work, and sighed\nwith contentment and a pleasant weariness.\n\n\u201cIt has been a good summer,\u201d he murmured, \u201cand there will be plenty\nof food for all of us.\u201d He smiled at that thought, for his family had\nincreased by one within the past week.\n\n\u201cYou are a fortunate man, Run-all-day,\u201d said a voice at his shoulder.\n\nIn the fraction of a second the salmon fisher was turned and on his\nfeet, with the flint blade with which he had cleaned the fish ready in\nhis hand. His eyes encountered those of a young man who stood not ten\nfeet distant, with his back to the dusky forest. The stranger\u2019s tunic\nof dressed deer-skin was decorated with strings of polished stones. On\nhis feet were finely worked moccasins and in his hand a short spear.\nHis face was very kind. To a keener reader of mankind than Run-all-day\nit would have suggested the hope and faith of a child, the wisdom that\ncomes of experience and the charitable spirit of old age.\n\n\u201cThough I may be a stranger to you,\u201d said the young man, smiling, \u201cI am\nnot your enemy. You need not threaten me with the knife, oh, tireless\nrunner.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day tossed his weapon beside the dead fish and looked steadily\nat the other.\n\n\u201cYou do not belong to this river, chief,\u201d said he, \u201cand yet you call me\nby my name. Is my reputation so great in the world?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo those who have ears to hear of an honest man,\u201d replied the\nstranger, \u201cyour reputation has travelled far. How is the little warrior\nthat came to your lodge but five days ago?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is well and sound,\u201d answered Run-all-day. \u201cBut what do you know of\nhim?\u201d he asked, in wonder. \u201cAre you a god?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou put the question honestly,\u201d said the young man with the spear.\n\nHe stepped close to the salmon fisher.\n\n\u201cI am not a god,\u201d he said. \u201cI am even of your own clan. I am called\nWise-as-a-she-wolf.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day looked at him in open astonishment, for the name of\nthe great magician was known far and wide. Some people held that\nWise-as-a-she-wolf was stronger than several of the gods themselves;\nthat he was the greatest student of magic since the days of the wicked\nBright Robe; that his magic had been learned in the Crimson Wigwam and\nin the White Lodge beyond the ramparts of eternal ice; that the secrets\nof immortality and everlasting youth were his. And yet \u2019twas said that\nfor all his power, his heart was kind as a young girl\u2019s.\n\n\u201cGreat chief,\u201d said the salmon fisher, at last, \u201cI had thought to see,\nin Wise-as-a-she-wolf, a full-grown man.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo be it, friend,\u201d replied the other, and, in the twinkling of an eye,\na warrior of great stature and grim visage stood before Run-all-day.\n\n\u201cHave mercy, great chief,\u201d cried the fisherman of the River of Three\nFires. He was strong and courageous; but he had a dread of big magic.\n\n\u201cHave no fear of your kinsman,\u201d laughed the other; and, in the next\nsecond, the youth with the gentle face laid a reassuring hand on\nRun-all-day\u2019s shoulder. The gigantic warrior was gone.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE TWO RED FEATHERS\n\n\n\u201cI am hungry and weary,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\n\u201cMy cooking-pot is full,\u201d replied the other, \u201cand I have many soft\nskins for bedding; but I fear me, chief, that to sleep in my lodge you\nwill first have to practise magic on the throat of the new warrior, or\non your own ears.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, friend, a couch in the open will suit my taste,\u201d replied the\nyouth. \u201cSo that the young warrior is not in pain, let him yell. \u2019Tis\nthe great spirit of him giving voice against the littleness of his body\nand the weakness of his legs.\u201d\n\nSo they set out for the fisherman\u2019s wigwam, each carrying a load of the\nsilver fish. The cooking-fire was burning brightly when they stepped\nfrom the woods, and the slender form of Singing Bird, eldest child of\nRun-all-day and Red Willow, was seen bending above the tree stump, that\nhad been hollowed to serve as a pot, which stood near the fire. The\nstew in the pot was boiling vigorously, for the girl had dropped stones\ninto it which she had first heated near to the bursting-point among\nthe coals of the fire. Two smaller figures--and these of boys--skipped\nabout in the ruddy glow and shouted that they were quite ready for\ntheir meal; still another was seen dabbling in the shallow water at the\nedge of the river; and from the interior of the pointed lodge sounded\nthe crying of an infant.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf let his string of fish slip to the grass, and looked\nat the scene before him with something of amusement and something of\nconsternation in his face.\n\n\u201cA fine family,\u201d he remarked. \u201cAnd surely that littlest warrior has the\nvoice of a great chief.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day was highly delighted at these words, being as foolish in\nsuch matters as are the fathers of our own time. With a self-satisfied\ngrunt, he led the stranger to a seat by the fire and fetched him a bark\ncup full of spring water, that he might quench his thirst before eating.\n\nThe magician ate very little for a hungry youth, and yet the stew was\nexcellent. Before he touched the food, he was seen to cast aside from\nhis waist a girdle of white leather painted with many wonderful figures\nof gods and men and beasts. He slept well that night, on a couch of\nbear skins, in the shelter of a spruce which stood midway between the\nlodge and the fire. He was awakened, in the early morning, by the\nvoice of Singing Bird. Opening his eyes, he beheld her busy at the\ncooking-fire, singing as she worked.\n\nThe breakfast was as good as the evening meal; and the magician,\npointing to the belt which hung loosely above his hips, said, \u201cYou are\nfortunate, my friend. You have no need, with such a cook, of a magic\nHunger-Belt like this.\u201d His gaze rested kindly on Singing Bird.\n\n\u201cBut the meat must first be caught, chief,\u201d replied Run-all-day.\n\nWhen Wise-as-a-she-wolf was ready to continue his journey, the\nfisherman walked from the camp with him, for a short distance.\n\n\u201cI am going northward,\u201d said the magician, \u201con very urgent business. I\nhave had dealings with many great people--even with the gods--and so\nI have awakened envy in more than one dark heart. For all my magic,\nfriend, my life is not so good a one as yours. You love and are loved.\nYou keep your family fed and are at peace with the world. No evil magic\nis worked against you and the wrath of the gods is aimed so high that\nit goes over your head. I have my days of glory and my victories; but\nstrange weapons are ever being shaped for my undoing.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, chief, I am content with my humble life,\u201d replied Run-all-day.\n\nThe young man placed two small red feathers in the other\u2019s hand.\n\n\u201cThese are for the littlest warrior,\u201d he said. \u201cThey are great\nmagic--great for good or evil, as the heart prompts. When he is large\nenough to run here and there, place one of these feathers in each of\nhis moccasins, flat on the sole of his foot. Let him cherish them, for\nthey will help him in his play, and, later, in the chase, and they have\nthe power to save him even from death.\u201d\n\nAt the last word he stepped aside from the trail and was gone, with no\nmore noise than the slipping away of a shadow.\n\nRun-all-day continued to stare at the spot where Wise-as-a-she-wolf had\nso lately stood, for fully a minute. This magic was no light thing.\nCourageous though he was, his legs shook under him as if with cold. A\ndozen sea-eagles could not have made him flinch; but he trembled at\nthe touch of the two little feathers in his hand.\n\n\u201cHe is a great man,\u201d he said at last, \u201cand possessed of wonderful\nmagic; but perhaps he was not wise in his gift to the littlest warrior.\nMagic is for gods and mighty chieftains; it is too potent a thing for\nhumble folks like me and mine. Did he not say himself, but a moment\nago, that power breeds powerful enemies and that even the gods bend\ntheir ears to the affairs of magicians?\u201d\n\nHe gazed fearfully at the bright feathers in his hand.\n\n\u201cHe is a great chief; a kind and a good young man, a cousin of the\ngods, I do not doubt,--but I fear he has made a mistake. He has been\ntoo generous.\u201d\n\nHe let the feathers fall from his hand to the moss at the side of the\ntrail, turned quickly and hastened back to the clearing and the lodge.\n\nHe found Red Willow lying on a couch of soft skins, well and happy.\nOld Blowing Fog, her mother, squatted beside her with the baby in her\nwrinkled arms.\n\n\u201cThe stranger has gone,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cHe is a great magician and\nhis name is Wise-as-a-she-wolf. But he envied me my humble contentment,\nfor all of that. He gave me two red feathers, for a gift for that\nlittle warrior, and said that they are possessed of magic power; and\nthen he was gone, like the first whiff of smoke from a newly lighted\nfire.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere are the feathers?\u201d inquired Red Willow, her face aglow with\ninterest.\n\nThe brave shook his head and smiled wisely.\n\n\u201cThe gift was meant well,\u201d he said; \u201cbut a man must judge of some\nthings for himself, even if he be but a hunter and fisherman. Magic may\nbe well enough for the great men whose feet are set in high places;\nthough I think even they would be safer without it. They may hunt with\nthe gods and the north-lights if they please; but the meat of the\ncaribou and beaver is better suited to my taste.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does all this grand talk lead to?\u201d asked old Blowing Fog.\n\n\u201cI dropped the feathers on the ground and let them lie,\u201d said the man.\n\n\u201cThen what do I see in your belt?\u201d asked the old woman, peering between\nhalf-closed lids.\n\nRun-all-day put his hand to his leather girdle--and drew out the two\nred feathers. He gasped. His swarthy cheeks turned white as the bark of\nthe birch. Had one of those little, fat savages from the frozen west\n(who sometimes crossed the Narrow Sea and fought with the islanders)\nappeared and stuck a spear into his flesh, he could not have looked\nmore horrified.\n\n\u201cGive them to me. I do not fear their magic,\u201d cried Red Willow.\n\nRun-all-day obeyed her with a sigh of relief. He would face the\nmagician himself--but those little, slim, red feathers--ah, they made\nhis blood run cold as ice. Red Willow took them fearlessly and admired\ntheir bright colour; and yet she was in the habit of fleeing, with\ncovered head, from bats flickering in the twilight. She laughed at her\nbig, trembling husband.\n\n\u201cIt is foolish to throw away a gift,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd it is even more\nfoolish to run away from two little feathers that were given you by a\nfriend.\u201d\n\nOld Blowing Fog laughed, as she rocked the baby in her arms.\n\n\u201cWhen I was young we saw greater magic than that, almost every day,\u201d\nsaid she. \u201cMy father once worked such magic on his bow that it shot\nthe arrows so high into the air that they never came down.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I\u2019ve heard that he couldn\u2019t shoot a standing caribou, for all\nthat,\u201d replied the man, recovering something of his assurance. He often\nargued with Blowing Fog.\n\n\u201cGive me honest arrows, honest muscles and honest feathers sticking in\nthe tails of honest birds,\u201d he continued. \u201cI do not need any magic, old\nor new, to keep the pot full of meat and fish and the rain out of my\nlodge. And I\u2019d feel like a fool shooting my arrows so high in the air\nthat they\u2019d never come down.\u201d\n\nBoth the women laughed at him.\n\n\u201cOh, I am wiser than you think,\u201d said he, and stalked out of the lodge.\nBut he left the two magic feathers in Red Willow\u2019s hand.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE LITTLEST WARRIOR AND HIS SUMMER HOME\n\n\nThe home in which the baby had been born was only a hut, built of\npoles and sheets of bark. It was a fine house, though, for the time\nand country. Its door was the hide of a caribou,--and how fearfully\nthat great hide flapped and bulged inward at the pressure of the night\nwinds. Fortunately the season was June, when the air was warm and the\nsun shone almost every day.\n\nWhen the littlest warrior was a few weeks old, he was put into a bag of\nfurry skins fastened to a light framework of wood. In this he rested\nall day, in an upright position, sometimes against one of the poles of\nthe lodge, and sometimes on the back of his mother, or Blowing Fog, or\nlittle Singing Bird.\n\nHe was a good baby, crying only when he was very hungry or when he was\nbathed in the cold water of the river. He spent the greater part of his\ntime in sleep. Even when awake he did not seem to take much interest\nin what went on around him; but this indifference to the world was\napparent in him only in his earliest days. At the age of two months\nhe began to show signs (so said his mother and Blowing Fog) of an\nexceptional spirit and intellect; but, to the casual observer, it would\nhave seemed that he but howled with a more powerful voice and kicked\nand struggled with lustier limbs.\n\nIt was only during the summer months--from May to October--that\nRun-all-day and his family lived in the little clearing beside the\nRiver of Three Fires. There was no other wigwam within ten miles of\nthem; for at this time the small tribes, or clans, of the north and\nsouth, the east and west, were at peace with one another and so the\npeople did not have to band together, in villages, in self-defence.\nSometimes, during the summer, people of their own tribe passed up or\ndown the stream in front of their lodge, in skin-covered canoes of\nunwieldy shapes.\n\nMany of Run-all-day\u2019s friends spent the summer months on the coast\nof the great sea-bays, where they caught cod-fish to cure for winter\nuse. Some lived close to the great salt water all the year round, and\nslaughtered a few of the hosts of seals that floated down from the\nnorth, on the grinding ice-floes, early in the spring. Others, like\nRun-all-day, pitched their summer lodges on the rivers and ponds,\nmoving southward and further inland, with the great herds of caribou,\nat the approach of winter.\n\nThe hunting of the caribou began early in September, when the calves\nof that year had grown strong enough to live independently of their\nmothers. Several of the families returning from the bays, halted for\nawhile in their journey and joined Run-all-day in the chase. Now the\nyoungest baby heard more noise than usual. Strange faces bent above him\nand strange arms lifted him to feel his weight. Several cooking-fires\nburned before the lodge; canoes of many models were drawn up on the\nbank; everybody seemed to be happy and busy. But soon the caribou began\nto travel southward, across the great barrens and through the low, dark\ntimber. Then dried fish and meat, skins and weapons were made into\npacks, and canoes were launched and headed up stream.\n\nNow the littlest warrior opened his eyes with more concern for the\neveryday affairs of life. He cried less than ever before in his brief\ncareer and smiled more readily. Even when he was placed in a canoe,\nstill in his fur bag, beside his mother, he did not make any violent\nsigns of objection. His father and all the family effects were at his\nback. Close in front sat his three small brothers, and Singing Bird,\nand in the bow old Blowing Fog plied a broad paddle.\n\nFortunately for all concerned, the canoe was both large and strong and\nsteady--a masterpiece among canoes. Run-all-day had built it during the\nprevious winter. He had planned a model for the frame to suit the size\nof his family and had constructed it of light, well-seasoned spruce.\nBeing short of hides at the time, he had covered the frame with great\nsheets of tough, white bark from the birch trees of the forest. This\nbark was much lighter than caribou hides, and he had felt angry with\nhimself for never having thought to use it before in boat building.\nFor years, he had known that it was proof against water, for had it\nnot sheltered him ever since his birth, from rain and sleet? He had\nstitched the seams with root-fibres and daubed them thoroughly with a\nmixture of gum and fat.\n\nRun-all-day\u2019s friends had laughed at the new canoe and its builder, and\nhad advised the brave not to venture on the river in so novel a craft.\nThe whole world, they said, covered its canoes with skin; then why\nshould he do otherwise? But Run-all-day had hardened his heart against\ntheir warnings and jeers and gone his own way; and it had proved to be\na right way.\n\nNow a little fleet of six canoes toiled steadily up the river. Though\nRun-all-day\u2019s craft was larger and more heavily loaded than any, it\nsoon outdistanced them all. The brave, standing upright in the stern,\nused a long pole and Blowing Fog dug vigorously at the water with her\nbroad paddle. Sometimes swift rapids churned and snarled in front of\nthem, defying them to ascend. Then all the bundles of fish and meat and\nskins, the weapons and the children, had to be unloaded. Then the canoe\nwas lifted from the stream and carried along the shore, to the top of\nthe swift water, by Run-all-day and Blowing Fog. Everyone but the baby\nhelped to portage the cargo.\n\nShortly after sunset, Run-all-day\u2019s canoe was run ashore at the edge\nof a little meadow, again unloaded and lifted out of the water. Soon a\nfire was lighted and the comforting fragrance of broiling venison stole\nwide on the air. Dusk had fallen by the time the other voyagers reached\nthe camp.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nBRIGHT ROBE TELLS A STORY OF THE RED FEATHERS\n\n\nThe men of the party sat late around the fire, telling stories of\nprowess at the fishing and in the chase. Some of them even talked of\nthe battlefield, for they were all of one clan. They had been at war\nwith the people of the south and southwest, not many years before.\nRun-all-day was no more backward in story-telling than in other\nmatters. He was a skilled and tireless hunter, and he did not object\nto the fact becoming known to the general public. Simply, he praised\nhis birch-bark canoe; his speed and endurance in running down a wounded\ndeer; his summer\u2019s work at the fishing; even his wife and his family\nwere bragged about--and surely no one had ever before possessed such an\nadmirable mother-in-law. Some of the braves grunted at that, for they\nknew that Run-all-day and old Blowing Fog often disagreed on household\nmatters.\n\nSuddenly one of the cod-fishers, who was called Lazy Bear, threw a\nlarge piece of drift-wood into the heart of the fire. Sparks and flames\nshot upward, and, for a few seconds, the whole camp was lit by the\nredoubled radiance.\n\nAnd there, at one end of the semi-circle of braves, sat a stranger with\na robe of bright fur on his back. A gasp of astonishment arose from the\nfishers and hunters. Lazy Bear almost stepped into the fire, in the\nfirst flash of amazement. A dozen hands went to the hafts of clubs and\nflint knives.\n\n\u201cGood evening to you, chief,\u201d said Run-all-day, in a voice that was not\naltogether steady.\n\nBut the stranger made no reply, and the man nearest him edged away to\nthe left.\n\n\u201cHave you no tongue?\u201d cried Run-all-day, with anger in his voice. Anger\nalways ate up fear, in the breast of the salmon fisher.\n\nThe stranger raised his head and stared at the speaker with dark and\nglowing eyes. But he did not open his lips. His piercing, insolent gaze\nwould have daunted a weaker man than Run-all-day; but it only stirred\nthe great hunter\u2019s anger to higher flame, even as the drift-wood had\nworked upon the smouldering heart of the fire.\n\n\u201cIf you have no tongue,\u201d said Run-all-day, \u201cmake us a sign. You have\ncome, unbidden, to our camp. The haft of my club itches in my hand.\u201d\n\n\u201cBrave words,\u201d said the stranger, in a voice cold as a wind off the ice\nfloe. \u201cLift your club,--if you can.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day\u2019s weapon lay beside him on the moss of the little clearing.\nHis right hand closed on the stick and he made a slight effort to\nswing the stone head upward, over his shoulder. He turned and applied\nboth hands and all his strength to the task. But the stone head of the\nweapon that was usually like a toy in his hands, would not leave the\nground. A sweat of fear burst out on him and he loosed the haft of the\nclub as if it were red hot. A thrill of apprehension went through the\nsemi-circle of braves, at sight of their comrade\u2019s half-seen actions.\n\nThe stranger laughed without mirth.\n\n\u201cGreat hunter, great slayer and smoker of salmon, when next Bright\nRobe comes to your camp and honours you by taking a seat at your fire,\nrefrain from clamouring for explanations,\u201d he said.\n\nThe name of Bright Robe drove the last sparks of courage and anger from\nthe breasts of Run-all-day\u2019s companions. Run-all-day, however, felt\nthe sullen rage still alive under the outward chill of fear.\n\n\u201cYou have heard of me,\u201d continued the unwelcome guest, \u201cand of this\nrobe, which is made of the pelt of one wolf--of one of the great, white\nwolves that hunt under the north-lights, in the land of eternal ice.\u201d\n\nTrue, they had all heard of Bright Robe, the master of magicians. Their\nmothers had frightened them, when they were children, with tales of his\nfearful and wonderful doings; and they, in their turn, had heard the\nstories from their mothers and grandmothers. Legend recorded that, in a\nfit of anger, he had once defied a god; and many were the versions of\nthe tale of his punishment. But he had vanished from the island, and\nthat was the great thing, for he had been the most wicked as well as\nthe most powerful of all the magicians that had practised their arts\nsince the beginning of the world. And now, after a hundred summers of\nbanishment, here he sat by the fire of honest hunters and fishermen,\nwith the silver robe gleaming on his shoulders. Was he stronger than\nthe gods themselves?\n\nEven the courage of Run-all-day melted again. What had brought this\nawful visitor to their humble fire?\n\nSeveral members of the party hastened to bring food and water to the\ngreat magician, who ate ravenously.\n\n\u201cI have made a weary journey,\u201d said he, at last. \u201cI have spent eight\ndays in travelling a distance that, had I not been robbed, I should\nhave accomplished in a few hours. I, who owned the red feathers but a\nmoon ago, bruised my feet on rocks and roots like any common fellow.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day stood beyond the smoke of the fire and so Bright Robe did\nnot notice the sudden alertness of the hunter\u2019s face and body.\n\n\u201cWhat are these red feathers, mighty chief?\u201d inquired Lazy Bear, who\npossessed curiosity to the extent that he lacked energy.\n\nFood had mollified the magician\u2019s spirit. \u201cThe red feathers,\u201d said he,\n\u201care articles of great magic. The man who wears them against his feet\ncan outrace the flying hawk, and only he who wears the moccasins of the\nwind can overtake him in the air.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have heard old people talk of the magic moccasins that carry a man\nwith the speed of a flying teal, but I have heard no stories of the\nred feathers,\u201d said Run-all-day.\n\nHe spoke in a voice that showed no more than a polite interest in the\nsubject.\n\n\u201cMany stories are told of the moccasins,\u201d said Bright Robe, \u201cfor they\nhave changed hands many times, but have never left this country, in\nhundreds of years, for more than two moons. The red feathers, however,\nare not known to the old story-tellers. Maybe they have thought that\nall the swift running was done by the moccasins of the wind. It was in\nthe time of the coldest winter, when the Narrow Sea was bound with ice\nfrom shore to shore, that the red feathers came into the possession\nof a chief of this country. Mountaineers from the hills under the\nsetting sun crossed the Narrow Sea--and with them came many of those\nfierce little men of the north--and did battle with the nations of this\nisland. The leader of the invaders sped here and there in the air,\nswift as a chasing hawk, swooping and slaying like a hawk among grouse.\nTo every man he killed, terror was burned into the hearts of a score.\nOur warriors had no strength to bend their bows against him, or hurl\ntheir war-clubs, when they heard the whisper of his flying feet. But\none man kept his courage alive and his eyes ready. His was a strong\nbow, and his arrows were long and sharply barbed. Slipping from the\ncentral tumult of the battle, he crouched beneath a spruce tree and\npeered about for the flying enemy as a hunter looks out of cover for\nhoming geese. Suddenly he saw the terrible one flash down upon the\nstruggling warriors; saw him strike once, and twice, and leap into the\nair again. With lessened speed he drew near the spruce tree under which\nthe Beothic chief crouched ready. The bow bent and sprang straight,\nand, with a fearful cry, the man of the flying feet struggled in the\nair. Another arrow whined and struck--and another found its mark--and\nthen the terrible invader fell, like a stone, to the earth. And, in the\nmoccasins of the warrior from across the Narrow Sea, the chief who slew\nhim found the red feathers.\u201d\n\nThe men around the fire had followed the story with breathless\ninterest. For the time being, their fear of the narrator was forgotten.\n\n\u201cThe coldest winter was many hundreds of seasons ago,\u201d said one, \u201cand\nnever since then has our country been in such danger. It must have been\na mighty battle.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was a mighty battle,\u201d replied Bright Robe. \u201cI was young then--I am\nolder than I look--and had learned nothing of magic. I fought in the\nbattle, for I was born in the tribe that dwells on the coast of the\nNarrow Sea.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas it you, great chief, who slew the leader of the enemy?\u201d asked\nRun-all-day.\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d replied the magician, with a low chuckle. \u201cBut two days after\nthe invaders were driven away from our shores, out onto the ice that\nwas already weakening and breaking, I took the red feathers from the\nmoccasin of that great chief and put them in my own.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen he must have been sleeping,\u201d said Run-all-day.\n\n\u201cA sound sleep, in truth,\u201d replied Bright Robe, calmly.\n\n\u201cYou killed him--a chief of your own tribe--for the magic feathers,\u201d\ncried the hunter.\n\n\u201cVerily, oh smoker of fish and flesh,\u201d replied the magician. \u201cAnd many\nanother have I killed, for less than those red feathers. To regain\npossession of them now I should consider the speeding of an hundred\nlives a niggardly payment.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe know nothing of the feathers,\u201d cried an old man.\n\nOthers confirmed the statement, in broken words and tremulous gestures.\n\nBright Robe sneered. \u201cYou may save your breath,\u201d said he. \u201cNo cleaner\nof cod stole the prize from the feet of Bright Robe; of that, I need no\nassurance. Only the gods, and Wise-as-a-she-wolf, have the hardihood\nto strike at me. Even now I am on the trail of my enemy. It will be\na long trail, for he has both the moccasins of the wind and the red\nfeathers--but when one knows the secret of everlasting life one can\nafford to travel slowly.\u201d\n\nHe looked about him with his dark, glowing eyes. The braves at the fire\nfelt their muscles loosen under the awful glance.\n\n\u201cNow bring me thirty days\u2019 food, dried meat and smoked fish enough\nto last a man thirty days,\u201d he ordered. \u201cI do not intend to delay my\njourney for the purpose of killing caribou,\u201d he added.\n\nRun-all-day and his companions were glad enough that the magician asked\nfor so little. They hastened to bring the best of their meat and fish\nand pemmican. They heaped it near their unwelcome visitor, in the light\nof the fire.\n\n\u201cNow bind it securely into one pack,\u201d he ordered.\n\nWhen this was done he arose from the ground and, bending over the great\npack, laid his hand on it. In a moment it had dwindled to the size of\na crouching wolf--to the size of a man\u2019s head--to the smallness of a\nhazel nut. And this tiny object he picked up, between finger and thumb,\nand tucked somewhere under his belt.\n\n\u201cYou are worthy people,\u201d he said, looking around, well pleased at the\nwonder, fear, and admiration written on the faces of the hunters.\n\n\u201cNow I continue my journey,\u201d he added. \u201cSee, I draw my robe of white\nfur over my head so that not a man of you shall be able to say which\nway I went.\u201d\n\nAt the last word he drew the robe above his shoulders--and lo, the\nfearful magician was nowhere to be seen.\n\nFor hours the hunters continued to sit by the fire. They were afraid\nthat Bright Robe might still be lurking near them, to hear what they\nhad to say of him. So they praised him warmly to each other, until they\ncould not keep their eyelids open another minute.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nRUN-ALL-DAY\u2019S NEW-FOUND AMBITION\n\n\nWind Lake was entered early in the evening of the second day of the\njourney. The voyagers did not land at sunset, but continued to paddle\nup the long, narrow lake until they reached a point on the western\nshore where a wooded valley opened on the water, between two wooded\nhills. By the time all the canoes were unloaded and the people settled\nfor sleep, it was long past midnight.\n\nThis was the place where Run-all-day had spent the last four winters,\nhis lodge standing alone in that warm and sheltered valley, with an\noutlook on the white lake, and with good hunting country on three\nsides; but now the owners of the other canoes and families begged him\nto allow them to build their winter lodges beside his.\n\n\u201cLet us stay near you,\u201d said an old man named Green Bow on the morning\nafter their arrival. \u201cThe visit of Bright Robe has filled us with\ntrembling, and our dreams with black visions. You are brave. You shall\nbe chief of the village and master of the chase, if only we may camp in\nyour valley and keep our hearts up with the sight of your courage; for\nwho can say at what time Bright Robe may visit us again?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy heart ran to water in the presence of Bright Robe,\u201d replied\nRun-all-day. \u201cMy muscles were no more than the muscles of a woman. I\ndid his bidding like a child and trembled at the sound of his voice.\nAnd yet,\u201d he concluded, wonderingly, \u201cyou ask me to inspire you with my\ncourage.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour eyes remained steady,\u201d replied the old man. \u201cI think there was\nstill a flame of courage in the bottom of your heart.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day looked from the old man to the others of the party, and\na new and delightful sensation took possession of him. Here was\nrecognition of his prowess, surely. They looked to him for protection\nfrom the great and wicked magician. Well, he would do what he could, as\nhe had always done in humbler matters.\n\n\u201cFriends,\u201d said he, \u201cI am willing to be your chief and to let you hunt\nand live in this valley. But I am not a magician, and I greatly fear\nthat the courage of a hunter would prove of no avail against the evil\nstrength of Bright Robe. But, my friends, I am well liked by one who\ndoes not fear Bright Robe. Wise-as-a-she-wolf has claimed me for a\nrelative; has partaken of my cooking-pot; has even made a gift to my\nlittlest warrior.\u201d\n\nNow this was a trifle more than even Lazy Bear could believe. As for\nold Green Bow, he frowned at Run-all-day. \u201cThis is a new thing to our\nears,\u201d he said. \u201cMay I ask, chief, how long it is since you began to\nkeep such fine company?\u201d\n\nThe new-made chief was stung to anger.\n\n\u201cYou do not believe my word,\u201d he cried. \u201cThen I will give you proof of\nit.\u201d\n\nHe put his hand on Green Bow\u2019s shoulder. \u201cWhere did you have your\nlodge, during the summer?\u201d he asked, sternly.\n\n\u201cAt the mouth of the River of Three Fires, on a knoll on the northern\nshore, under three great pines,\u201d answered the old man.\n\n\u201cAnd did you leave any familiar possession behind you?\u201d\n\nThe old man nodded.\n\n\u201cI forgot my best skinning-knife,\u201d he replied. \u201cIt is somewhere in my\nwigwam, chief.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said Run-all-day, gazing proudly around him at the puzzled\nfaces of his people, \u201cI shall start for the mouth of the river\nto-night,--and in the morning the knife will be in your hand.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh-ha,\u201d cried Green Bow. \u201cThen you are a magician after all. Why did\nyou not lift your club, two nights ago, and deal Bright Robe a whack on\nthe head?\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you continue to doubt me,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cBut I do not wonder\nat that. I am an honest fisherman and hunter. I have no knowledge of\nmagic. But if I fail to bring you your knife by sunrise to-morrow, then\nyou may choose another chief and Run-all-day will take his family from\nthis valley and seek another home.\u201d\n\nThe braves were still incredulous. Though of great endurance and speed,\nhow could their comrade make a four days\u2019 journey in one night?\n\n\u201cPerhaps you have the moccasins of the wind hidden in your lodge?\u201d said\nLazy Bear.\n\n\u201cOr the red feathers?\u201d suggested a youth named Little Fox.\n\nGreen Bow placed his fingers on his lips. \u201cWould you have Bright Robe\nback again?\u201d he whispered, sharply. \u201cKeep your thoughts behind your\ntongues, if your minds run on such things.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe old man is right,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cIf I make a long journey in\nthe night-time, to prove to you that I still speak the truth, let not\nso much as a hint of it go beyond the warriors of this new village.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day worked busily with the others, at the building of the\nlodges. But the furtive glances and whisperings of his companions\nkept him in a bad humour; and thought of the awful journey he had so\nboastfully undertaken, weighed on his spirit. He did not doubt, for a\nmoment, the ability of the red feathers to take him to the mouth of\nthe river and home again; but fear of the terrific speed and the great\nmagic gripped his heart.\n\nWhen the evening meal was finished and the warriors began to draw\naround the central fire, the new chief entered his lodge and whispered\nhis trouble in the ear of Red Willow.\n\n\u201cYou may not withdraw from your promise,\u201d she said. \u201cIf these are truly\nthe magic feathers they will not fail you. Fly high and straight, tarry\nat Green Bow\u2019s camp only long enough to find the knife, and return\nwithout again alighting. It is well that you planned to make the\njourney in the night-time; for, doubt not, sharp eyes would mark your\nflight by day, eager tongues would carry word of it far and wide, and\nthe ears of powerful persons would hear of it. Now, since the visit of\nBright Robe, I, too, fear this gift for the littlest warrior. But it is\nour duty to keep the feathers safely. Wise-as-a-she-wolf may need them\nagain. We must never allow them to pass into the hands of one of his\nenemies.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day placed one of the slim, red feathers in each of his\nmoccasins, with shaking fingers. Then, for several hours, he sat in the\nlodge, listening to the chatter of his family, and struggling with the\nfear that ran like ice in his veins. At last he stepped softly through\nthe doorway, followed by Red Willow. The night was black, unlit by any\nstar, and a low wind crawled in the tree-tops.\n\nThe woman pointed northward. \u201cThat is the road,\u201d she whispered.\n\nRun-all-day drew a deep breath, hesitated for a moment, and then sprang\ninto the air. He saw the dark mass of the forest under his feet, and\nthe glow of the camp-fire around which the warriors still sat. The four\nquarters of the sky lay black and vast around him, and the prowling\nwind blew against his moccasins. Then, with a second desperate\nresolve, he ran northward along the currents of the air.\n\nDawn was breaking along the east when Run-all-day entered his lodge\nwith Green Bow\u2019s knife in his hand. He was breathless. Snow had\ncommenced to fall when he had but begun his return journey, and he had\nlost his way and been forced to descend twice to earth. He returned the\nfeathers to Red Willow with a sigh of relief.\n\nWhen the sun crawled up in a clear sky, he stepped from the lodge and\napproached the group of braves already assembled in the centre of the\nencampment. The experience of the night had left a pallor on his face;\nand every man noticed it.\n\n\u201cYou have not slept well,\u201d said old Green Bow, peering up at him with a\nsecret glance.\n\n\u201cHave you worried about your good hunting-ground?\u201d inquired Little Fox.\n\nFor answer, Run-all-day took the knife from his belt and tossed it to\nGreen Bow.\n\n\u201cIs that your wonderful skinning-knife?\u201d he asked, sharply.\n\nThe old man recovered the weapon from the ground, examined it closely\nand uttered a hoarse cry of amazement. The others crowded around him;\nonly the chief held aloof.\n\n\u201cIt is the knife,\u201d cried one.\n\n\u201cHe left it at the mouth of the river, four days\u2019 journey from here,\u201d\ncried another.\n\n\u201cI keep my promises,\u201d said Run-all-day, and stalked back to his lodge.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nRUN-ALL-DAY VISITS WHISPERING GRASS\n\n\nThe first winter of Run-all-day\u2019s chieftainship passed quietly in the\nwooded valley on Wind Lake. No magicians came to the little village,\nand the magic feathers remained safe in Red Willow\u2019s care. Between the\nnight of the chief\u2019s great journey and the freezing of the lake, many\ncaribou were killed. Later, bear, and wolf, fox, marten, and wild-cat\nfell to the spoil of the hunters. The women and larger children, and\nthe old men, worked at dressing the skins for robes and clothing, at\nmaking arrows and bows and snow-shoes.\n\nRun-all-day\u2019s youngest child grew steadily, in the shelter of the\nbig lodge. In fine weather, Singing Bird often carried him about the\nclearing and even out on the frozen lake. Old Blowing Fog made him a\ncoat of fox-skins to wear out-of-doors.\n\nWhen spring came, and the snow melted on the barrens and dwindled in\nthe woods, and swollen waters and soft winds gnawed the floor of ice\nthat hid the lake, the baby in the chief\u2019s lodge began to fret and\nlose weight. Red Willow and Blowing Fog were good nurses and knew\nsomething of the use of medicinal herbs; but, day by day, the little\nwarrior weakened.\n\nRun-all-day hung about the lodge, anxious and helpless. On the morning\nof the third day of the baby\u2019s illness old Green Bow caught him by the\nsleeve.\n\n\u201cWhispering Grass is a good doctor,\u201d he said. \u201cShe lives on the Highest\nHill, beyond this lake and Great Devil\u2019s Lake, westward and southward.\nFor a warm cloak of marten skins she would give you medicine to cure\nthe little warrior. Three winters ago, when I was hunting in those\nlands, she saved me from a fever that was eating my blood.\u201d\n\n\u201cThree winters ago,\u201d exclaimed the chief. \u201cHow do you know that she is\nstill there?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe will live nowhere else.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut she may be dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will know, when you arrive at her lodge.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it is a long journey, and the baby is very ill,\u201d cried Run-all-day.\n\n\u201cYou made a longer journey to bring me my knife,\u201d replied Green Bow.\n\nRun-all-day turned from him and entered the lodge. Hope and resolve\nshone in his eyes.\n\n\u201cGive me the feathers,\u201d he whispered to Red Willow. \u201cI must make a long\njourney, for medicine for the littlest warrior; and I may not wait for\nthe darkness to conceal my flight.\u201d\n\nIn a few seconds the red feathers were inside his moccasins, against\nthe soles of his feet. He bent above the sick child, where it lay in\nthe arms of Blowing Fog, and touched the colourless lips with his\nfingers.\n\n\u201cKeep a brave heart, little warrior. The gift of the good magician will\nfight for you,\u201d he said.\n\nHe was about to step from the lodge when Red Willow detained him with a\ngesture of the hand.\n\n\u201cShould Bright Robe, or any friend of his, see you, he must not know\nwho it is that runs on the wind,\u201d she said, quietly lifting a long\ngarment of mink skins, almost black in colour, to his shoulders.\n\n\u201cBelt it about you,\u201d she said, \u201cand draw the hood close around your\nface.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day obeyed her swiftly, then stepped from the lodge to the\nouter brightness.\n\n\u201cI go now in search of Whispering Grass,\u201d he said to Green Bow, who\nstood without.\n\n\u201cMay good fortune attend you,\u201d replied the old man, staring with an\nexpression of awe at the chief\u2019s feet.\n\nWithout more ado, Run-all-day faced west and south and sprang into the\nair. Now the gleaming, sunlit wilderness lay soft and familiar under\nhis wide vision, and there was no fear in his heart save for the sick\nchild. With all his strength, he set his feet to the air and sped away\non his journey. The mottled expanse of Wind Lake was passed in a few\nseconds. Rushing above the barrens beyond, he overtook and passed a\nflying crow. He saw a wooded hollow, a few lodges in a little clearing,\nand a boy gazing up at him, with astonished eyes, and it was as if he\nhad but looked down, for a moment, at a painted picture. He passed over\nhills, his speeding feet almost brushing the crowded tree-tops. He saw\ncaribou, in vast herds, feeding and moving. They seemed no more than\ntoys made by an old woman.\n\nSoon, Run-all-day saw Great Devil\u2019s Lake in front of him. It was long\nand narrow, and split for more than half its length by a slim, wooded\nisland. In some places the water already shone in dark pools among the\nrotting ice. Beyond, stood a range of hills, from which one cone rose\nhigher than any mountain-top in sight. He did not doubt that this was\nthe hill of the medicine-woman; but his heart shook at the thought that\nhe might find there only a deserted lodge. As he approached the hill he\nascended into higher and rarer altitudes of air, eager to read the fate\nof his journey in one sweeping glance.\n\nPausing in his flight, so high above the wilderness that the forests\nlooked like moss, he beheld a tiny wigwam half-way up the southern\nslope of the hill, with a feather of smoke at its roof. Then, in great\ncircles ever descending, he swooped to the little clearing. Throwing\naside his robe of mink skins, he hastened to the door of the lodge and\npeered within. He could only see the glow of a little fire, for his\neyes had narrowed against the vasts of sunlight.\n\n\u201cEnter, chief,\u201d said an aged voice.\n\nBut Run-all-day stepped back a pace, still with his eyes on the black\ninterior of the lodge.\n\n\u201cI seek Whispering Grass, the great doctor,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cI am Whispering Grass,\u201d replied the voice. \u201cEnter, chief, and tell\nyour errand.\u201d\n\nBy this time Run-all-day could make out the form of the old woman,\ncrouched above a pot near the fire. Assuring himself that no other\nhuman being lurked in the shadows of the lodge he obeyed her summons. A\nstrange, bitter-sweet odour filled the wigwam, and all around, from the\nsloping sides of bark, hung wisps of herbs and leaves.\n\nRun-all-day told his name to the old woman, and that he had heard\nof her from Green Bow. Then he asked for medicine for his baby, and\ndescribed the infant\u2019s sickness as best he could.\n\n\u201cAnd what will you pay, chief?\u201d she asked.\n\nThe question reminded him that he had forgotten to bring a gift of\nfurs, as Green Bow had suggested; but he bethought himself of the great\nrobe of mink skins which he had worn in the flight.\n\n\u201cGet the medicine ready,\u201d he said, \u201cand I will fetch the gift. I left\nit at the edge of the clearing.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is it?\u201d she asked, fixing her bright eyes on his face.\n\n\u201cIt is a great robe, made of fifty mink skins,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cGood,\u201d she cried. \u201cBring it quickly, so that the virtue of my\ngratitude may enter into the medicine.\u201d\n\nRun-all-day crossed the clearing in one step, having forgotten the\nfeathers in his moccasins. He returned more cautiously, with the robe\nin his arms.\n\nWhispering Grass was delighted with the gift. She spread it wide on the\nground and felt every inch of the fur with her wrinkled hands, crooning\nall the while.\n\n\u201cI am in a hurry,\u201d the chief reminded her. \u201cThe child is near death.\u201d\n\nAt that the old woman set to work. She placed a small vessel of clay\nnear the fire, filled it with the liquor from the pot and added a few\ncrimson berries, some thread-like golden roots and a pinch of white\npowder. She stirred the mixture with a stick. Her movements were very\ndeliberate.\n\n\u201cHurry! Hurry!\u201d exclaimed Run-all-day.\n\nWhispering Grass did not so much as turn her head.\n\n\u201cYou should have the medicines already prepared,\u201d cried the brave.\n\nAt that, the old woman snorted defiantly, but continued stirring the\nbrew as slowly as ever. At last she set the vessel away from the fire.\n\n\u201cNobody but old Whispering Grass can make such fine medicine as that,\u201d\nshe mumbled. \u201cIt is worth a hundred robes of mink skins.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it cures the little warrior of his illness, then shall I give you a\nhundred more robes like this,\u201d said Run-all-day.\n\n\u201cNay, chief,\u201d she replied. \u201cOne will more than outlast my remaining\nseason of life. It is a rich gift. I have steeped my precious herbs,\nbefore now, for no more than a few dried fish.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs the medicine ready?\u201d inquired the chief.\n\n\u201cYes, but how will you carry it on so long a journey?\u201d asked the woman.\n\n\u201cAs it is,\u201d he replied, lifting the vessel of clay from the ground\nand striding from the lodge. A hundred yards or so from the clearing,\nhe placed the precious medicine on a rock from which the snow had\nmelted. Then he tore a quantity of small, well-feathered branches from\nthe spruce trees within reach and fastened them about his body, for a\ndisguise. He bound them tightly with his leather belt. The branches\nhung along his legs and stood above his shoulders.\n\n\u201cShould any one see me on the homeward flight,\u201d he said, \u201che will think\nI am the father of all the eagles.\u201d\n\nNone of the precious liquor was spilled on the trip from the Highest\nHill to Wind Lake; in fact, it was scarcely yet cool when Run-all-day\nstepped into his lodge.\n\n\u201cHere is the great medicine,\u201d he said, and gave the clay vessel into\nBlowing Fog\u2019s hands. Red Willow was holding the baby, who was lying\nvery still in her arms. The old woman seemed to know the medicine for,\nafter tasting it, she grunted with satisfaction. She dipped out some\nof the liquid in a mussel shell and poured it between the infant\u2019s\ncolourless lips.\n\n\u201cMy mother often made this same medicine,\u201d she mumbled. \u201cHad I but the\nproper roots and herbs, I could brew it myself.\u201d\n\nIt pleased her, poor old soul, to treat every blessing as if it were\nnot quite as good as she was accustomed to. But her words fell on\nheedless ears. Everyone was intent on the littlest warrior.\n\nClose on the time of sunset, Run-all-day joined his people about the\nfires. \u201cThe colour has come back to his face,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cShe is a good doctor, that old woman,\u201d said Green Bow, nodding. \u201cI am\nglad you found her alive, chief.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nBRIGHT ROBE FINDS HIS ENEMY\n\n\nNow it happened that Bright Robe, having wandered to the vicinity\nof Great Devil\u2019s Lake after months of fruitless searching for\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, saw Run-all-day, in his waving spruce-branches,\nflying eastward from the hillside. Of course he thought it was his\nrival, Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\n\u201cHe flies with the feathers, not the moccasins,\u201d he muttered, gazing\nafter the grotesque and fast-vanishing figure. \u201cHas he not enough magic\nto make himself invisible? Or has he forgotten that I have returned to\nmy country?\u201d he added, viciously.\n\nKnowing that it would be useless for him to try to follow the speeding\nfigure, even to keep it in sight, he bent his steps toward that part of\nthe hillside from which he had seen his supposed enemy rise into the\nair. After a hard climb through the half-melted drifts, he arrived at\nthe lodge of Whispering Grass and found the old woman still crouched\nby the fire.\n\n\u201cWhy have you come back?\u201d she asked, without looking up. \u201cHave you\nspilled the medicine?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not Wise-as-a-she-wolf, to whom you speak,\u201d said the visitor.\n\u201cIt is Bright Robe.\u201d\n\nShe raised her head and stared at him intently. \u201cAnd does the great\nBright Robe, the defier of the gods, come to poor Whispering Grass for\nmedicine?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cNay, I want none of your mixtures, old woman,\u201d he replied, slipping\ninto the lodge. \u201cBut I would know where Wise-as-a-she-wolf set out for,\na little while ago.\u201d\n\nThe woman smiled secretly, and stirred the pot by the fire. She knew\nsomething of the history of both the magicians.\n\n\u201cIf that was Wise-as-a-she-wolf, he goes northward,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cI saw him flying eastward, old woman,\u201d cried the magician. \u201cIt is\nbreath wasted that is employed in lying to Bright Robe,\u201d he added\nsternly.\n\n\u201cFlying?\u201d she queried.\n\n\u201cYou need not pretend to doubt it,\u201d answered the man. \u201cHe flew like a\nhawk--for the red feathers were in his moccasins. And he flew eastward,\nacross the lake. Had I seen him sooner, an arrow would have caught up\nwith him, I think.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did you not fly after him, great chief?\u201d she asked. His face\ndarkened with anger and his eyes glowed like coals in the dusk of the\nwigwam.\n\n\u201cHe has both the moccasins of the wind and the red feathers,\u201d he\nreplied, harshly. \u201cHe travels like a bird while I toil along the\nground; and yet, let me but stand within fifty strides of him and I\nshall crush him as a child crushes a nut,\u201d he added, furiously.\n\n\u201cIs not your power great enough to wing your own feet with magic?\u201d\nasked Whispering Grass, shrewdly.\n\nBright Robe stepped forward, overturned the pot of medicine with his\nfoot, and then hurried from the lodge. He did not take the trouble\nto draw his robe above his head and vanish, but stalked across the\nclearing, slowly and disdainfully.\n\nWhispering Grass snatched a bow and an arrow from the corner and\nhobbled after the magician, muttering between tears and curses. She\ncaught the gleam of his robe between the dark trees; but, even as\nshe drew the bow, he turned and saw her. Quick as thought, he pulled\nthe magic robe high and stepped aside. In the next instant, the arrow\nstruck the trunk of a fir-tree, and stood quivering in the wood.\n\n\u201cIn truth, it was the great magician,\u201d cried the old woman, trembling\nwith fear, and peering anxiously about. He had vanished quicker than\nthe shifting of a sunbeam. She knew that her doom was sealed. A hundred\nstories of the cruelty of Bright Robe, told to her when she was a\nchild, awoke in her mind. Not once, during his age-long life, had he\nbeen known to forgive an injury.\n\nNext moment, with awful suddenness the magician reappeared, close\nbeside her. His face was that of a devil. He let his silver robe fall\nfrom his shoulders and raised his club high.\n\nThere sounded a swishing in the air, close above them. Then, with a\nfierce, shrill cry, Bright Robe sprang aside, whirling his club around\nhim so swiftly that it drew gray circles in the sunlight. At the same\nmoment, he snatched for the silver fur which lay on the ground. Twice\nhe lifted a corner of it, and twice it was pulled away from him by\nsome invisible hand. Rage shone in his face like a fire, and horrible\nsounds escaped from his lips.\n\nThe old woman managed to crawl to the edge of the wood; and there\nshe crouched, sobbing with terror and yet unable to remove her gaze\nfrom the frantic scene. She realized that the cruel magician had been\nattacked by some invisible power even while his club was raised to kill\nher and that now he fought a terrific battle, handicapped by not being\nable to see his antagonist. Her eyes and brain were keen, but her body\nwas numb; and so she continued to crouch, with the bow still held in\none withered hand.\n\nAt last the robe of white fur skin vanished from the ground. Its\nowner dashed here and there in the sunlit clearing, roaring like a\nwounded animal and slashing the air with his club. Suddenly he halted,\nlistening, then, with a shrill scream, he dashed toward the tree in\nwhich stood the arrow Whispering Grass had shot at him. But before he\nhad crossed half the intervening space, the arrow vanished from the\ntree trunk. Turning short, with a movement so powerful and quick as\nto seem scarcely human, he sprang toward the old woman. Almost in the\nsame instant of time the bow was snatched from her hand, apparently\ninto empty air. At sight of that, Bright Robe threw himself flat on the\nsodden snow, his great body shook and dwindled,--and behold, a slim,\nwhite hare darted from the empty clearing into the forest.\n\nAn hour passed. The old woman crawled to her wigwam and squatted in the\ndoorway. Several times she heard a strange noise in the air, as of a\nswift small wind. But the tree-tops were not stirred by it. The flames\nof the little fire behind her sank and the coals faded to black and\ngray. The sun stood midway in the southern sky, and cast a straight\nshaft of light through the smoke-hole in the roof of the lodge. But\nWhispering Grass gave no heed to either the fire or the sun, but gazed\nout, eager yet fearful, for more wonders to be enacted in the quiet\nclearing.\n\nThe sun slid a hand\u2019s-breadth to the westward and the shaft of light\nran crooked in the dusk of the lodge. A tumult of crashing branches\narose on the upper slopes of the hill and descended toward the\nclearing. Out of the shelter broke Bright Robe, now in his human form,\nbut many times increased in stature, struggling with and clinging to\nsome unseen body in his arms. His club was gone and blood ran down his\ngreat breast from a gash in the shoulder. He put his gigantic muscles\nto every trick of wrestling, showing no fatigue, and yet he was forced\nbackward and downward, and sometimes swung almost clear of the ground.\nSweat streamed from his great face, and stood like dew on his body,\nfrom which his shirt of dressed leather had been torn.\n\nThe desperate battle wrenched and twisted half-way down the clearing.\nThere, for a dozen seconds, it paused, as if the strength of the\ninvisible one had slackened. Then, with redoubled violence, Bright\nRobe was forced backward again, flung from side to side, battered,\nstaggered, and overborne. Now his face, for the first time, shone with\nthe pitiful, inner illumination of fear. He screamed in his anguish\nof spirit and bent all his strength to clear himself from the grasp\nof the invisible enemy. He hurled his gigantic body this way and\nthat, dragging backwards and sideways. Half-grown trees were snapped\noff by the straining feet of the wrestlers. Blood dyed the trampled\nsnow,--more blood than that which ran from Bright Robe\u2019s wound. At\nlast, beyond the fringe of trees at the lower edge of the clearing,\nthe evil magician fell, crashing, to the ground. A scream of fear and\nbaffled passion clanged across the wilderness, ringing from wood to\nwood and waking terrific echoes against every hillside. For a little\nwhile there continued a sound of gigantic struggling.\n\nWhispering Grass was still squatting on the threshold of her lodge,\nwhen a young man issued from the woods where the fight had so lately\nended, and limped toward her. His clothing of fine white leather, set\nout with bright stones, was torn and blood-stained. Blood streamed\ndown across his face and breast from a gash on his forehead. Even the\nmoccasins on his feet were torn and dyed with blood. The sight of his\npitiful condition drove the numbness of fear from the old woman and she\nhobbled forward and helped him into the lodge and onto her own couch of\nspruce-branches and furs.\n\n\u201cI am in sore need of your healing, Whispering Grass,\u201d said the youth,\nfaintly.\n\n\u201cLie quiet,\u201d she replied. \u201cIn a few days you will be able to tell me\nhow you came by these grievous hurts.\u201d\n\nBut her curiosity pricked her shrewdly to know if this young man had\nbeen mixed in the terrific battle, part of which she had so lately\nwitnessed. And did he know anything of the Unseen One who had\nvanquished Bright Robe? She washed the wounds on the stranger\u2019s head\nand breast, and bound them with dried leaves of medicinal virtue. She\ngave him a draught that was both vivifying and soothing. He was already\nnodding when she removed the torn coverings from his feet, to attend to\nthe cuts and bruises thereon that puzzled her even more than the hurts\non his body. His eyes flashed open.\n\n\u201cGive me the moccasins,\u201d he cried, eagerly, extending a hand.\n\n\u201cI will make you a new pair,\u201d she said. \u201cThese are past mending.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so,\u201d he replied. \u201cGive them to me, I pray you. Place them under my\nhead.\u201d\n\nShe humoured him, smiling the while at his foolishness. Within a\nminute, his eyes were closed in slumber.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE YOUTH RECOVERS HIS STRENGTH AND VISITS RUN-ALL-DAY\n\n\nWhen the young man awoke after a sleep of sixteen hours\u2019 duration, he\nbegged for food. Whispering Grass held a small vessel of broth to his\nlips. He drained it at a gulp, and demanded meat and fish.\n\n\u201cI am hungry,\u201d he said, \u201cfor I have spilled blood and the strength of\nan hundred men. Do you expect me to recover my lost energy by means of\na mouthful of hot water?\u201d\n\nMuch against her convictions as a physician, the old woman cut a meagre\nslice of dried caribou meat, broiled it and gave it to the invalid. He\ndevoured it ravenously, making no more than two mouthfuls of it.\n\n\u201cYou will heat your blood. You will have a fever,\u201d she exclaimed.\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d he replied, \u201cthis is no time for half-measures. Even my\ngood hunger-belt would be useless now. Though you behold but a small\nman lying here, sorely cut and bruised, yet the strength of a giant\nmust be recuperated.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf a giant?\u201d she queried, wondering if the fever had already found him.\n\nHe nodded. \u201cOf the giant who mastered Bright Robe,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cOf the great, invisible one?\u201d she asked, in an awe-stricken whisper.\n\n\u201cEven so. Was it not a great battle?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you--? Why must you eat, young man, to feed his body?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe have but the one mouth, old woman,\u201d he replied, smiling gently.\n\n\u201cWho are you, chief?\u201d she cried.\n\n\u201cThey call me Wise-as-a-she-wolf,\u201d he said.\n\nWhispering Grass was amazed and disconcerted. For a long time she could\ndo nothing but gaze at the slight, mild-featured youth reclining on her\ncouch. Could this be the furious, invisible fighter who had hunted the\nmighty Bright Robe from one form to another before her eyes; who had\ndone battle with him, struck fear into his heart, and overthrown him?\n\nAt last she found the use of her tongue again. \u201cYou saved me from his\nwrath, chief; but who is to protect me when you go again about your\ngreat affairs?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cThe heart of Bright Robe is known over all the world,\u201d she continued,\n\u201cand his black soul is never deaf to the cry of vengeance. When the\nwinds forget to blow we may expect that terrible one to forget those\nwho have angered him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall be warmed by five summers before Bright Robe regains his\npower to harm,\u201d replied the youth. \u201cFor five summers and five aching\nwinters, he must make his home in the trees, in the shape of a little\nbrown owl.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did you not kill him, chief?\u201d asked Whispering Grass. \u201cHe is your\nenemy, and the enemy of the whole world.\u201d\n\n\u201cI did what was in my power,\u201d replied Wise-as-a-she-wolf. \u201cOnly the\ngods can take his life. He and I have drunk of the same river, that\nflows around and around at the very top of the world. But I took his\nmagic robe from him, and broke his giant\u2019s body, and spilled his magic\nfor five winters. He could have done no more to me had he defeated me\nin the battle.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd when the five winters are sped?\u201d queried the old woman.\n\n\u201cI shall be waiting for him,\u201d replied the youth.\n\nThe wounds of the good magician healed with a wonderful rapidity, that\nwas not entirely due to the skill of Whispering Grass. And his appetite\nfor food, for a few days, was a thing to strike consternation to the\nheart of a housekeeper. He ate dried fish and dried meat like a pack\nof wolves, for a giant as tall as a pine and as broad as a hill lurked\nwithin his slender frame. He promised that he would refill the larder\nas soon as he was on his feet.\n\nOn the third day after the battle, he was able to sit up and repair\nhis moccasins, which had been torn on rocks and timber in the heroic\ncombat. They had not been made for such rough usage, for they were\nthe moccasins of the wind. While he worked, patching and stitching\nwith skill and patience, Whispering Grass told him of the visit of\nthe chief who had come for medicine for his child, and of how Bright\nRobe had seen him flying from the hillside and had mistaken him for\nWise-as-a-she-wolf. She described the chief; and the magician knew that\nRun-all-day had made use of the red feathers.\n\nOn the morning of the fifth day after the fight with Bright Robe, the\nyouth arranged his garments of dressed leather, which had been cleaned\nand mended, and assured the old woman that his injuries were entirely\ncured and that he must go about his business again.\n\n\u201cIt was a speedy cure,\u201d replied Whispering Grass. \u201cI can find the wish,\nin my selfish old heart, that your magic and my poor washes had not\nhealed the wounds so quickly, for now I shall spend my lonely days in\nfear of that little brown owl.\u201d\n\nAt that the youth laughed. \u201cOnly the mice and the sparrows need fear\nhim, for many moons,\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cBut the heart within his little breast is still the heart of Bright\nRobe,\u201d argued the old woman, dismally wagging her head.\n\n\u201cI tell you that he is harmless, save to the smallest creatures of the\nwood,\u201d replied the magician, with a note of sternness in his voice. He\nstepped to the door of the lodge.\n\n\u201cI shall return in a few minutes with meat and fish and pemmican,\u201d he\nsaid.\n\nThen, for a second, she heard the swishing rush of his flight. She\nhobbled to the doorway and looked out; but the sky was empty. So\nshe turned back and busied herself with setting the lodge in order,\nmuttering and shaking her gray head over the wonders that had crowded,\nof late, into her secluded life. She was spreading the skins on the\ncouches when a shadow fell across the floor. Turning, she beheld\nWise-as-a-she-wolf. His smooth face was flushed and he breathed as one\nafter a sharp run. \u201cYour store-house is full,\u201d he said. \u201cI went to my\nown village and got food for you; enough of the best to last you three\nmoons. And here is a little whistle, made of willow. Blow upon it if\nyou happen to be in need of my help, and I shall hear, and make speed\nto you, no matter in what part of the world I may be. But remember,\nshould you blow upon this whistle without real need, the note of it\nwill not reach my ears.\u201d\n\nThe old woman accepted the gift gratefully and immediately set about\nfastening it around her neck by a leathern thong. And when she raised\nher eyes from the task the good magician was gone.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, invisible by the potency of his own magic and with\nthe silver robe of his rival under his arm, sped eastward in search of\nRun-all-day\u2019s village. The afternoon was well spent before he found it,\nfor it was a new village.\n\nAlighting nearby, under a clump of crowded pines, he hid the white robe\nand walked, in his usual form, through the woods to the clustered\nlodges. Half a dozen women, and a few old men, were seated outside the\nwigwams, some weaving rough baskets and others laboriously shaping\ncanoe paddles by means of flint wedges and knives. They looked at\nthe strange young man with undisguised wonder. He greeted them\ngood-naturedly and walked straight to the big lodge, feeling sure\nthat, in so small a village, Run-all-day would be chief. Singing Bird\ncaught sight of him before he reached the open doorway and whispered to\nRed Willow that the young man who had spent a night with them, during\nthe previous summer, was approaching. Then Red Willow and old Blowing\nFog knew that it was the great magician. Run-all-day and the other\nable-bodied men and boys of the village were away, hunting the beaver\nand musquash along the breaking streams.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, great in magic, fearless in battle, peeped into the\nlodge. On seeing only women and children there, he stepped shyly to one\nside and looked vaguely around, as if uncertain what to do next. The\nchatter of women could not be answered by magic and his valour was no\nshield against the big eyes of Singing Bird. But before he could plan\na dignified escape Red Willow looked out and invited him to enter. He\nstepped cautiously within; whereupon she sent all the children save the\nbaby to play outside, thus making room for him to sit on one of the\nskin-covered couches. He inquired the whereabouts of Run-all-day, and\nthen asked if the baby was quite recovered from its recent illness.\n\n\u201cHe is cured, chief, thanks to your gift of red feathers,\u201d replied Red\nWillow.\n\nThe magician expressed his pleasure at this and smiled bashfully at\nthe baby. Then followed a silence that lasted for several minutes. It\nwas broken by old Blowing Fog who had been blinking curiously at the\nvisitor ever since his arrival.\n\n\u201cGreat magicians were bigger men, in my young days,\u201d said she.\n\nRed Willow and Singing Bird were horrified at that remark; but the\nyoung man laughed good-naturedly.\n\n\u201cThere was Highest Star, who slew the great moose that swam across the\nNarrow Sea,\u201d continued the old woman, complacently. \u201cHe killed the\nfearful beast with one blow of his closed hand. Many a time did he\nvisit my father\u2019s lodge. He was ten feet high and broad as a bear is\nlong.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd where is he now?\u201d asked the youth.\n\nBlowing Fog could not tell him, for certain, but she had her\nsuspicions. One was that the gods had grown jealous of his greatness\nand had buried him under a mountain. Another was that he himself had\nbecome a divinity and now sat in some gorgeous lodge beyond the sunset,\nsuperior to the affairs of the island in which he had been born.\n\n\u201cNay, do not mourn him,\u201d said the youth, \u201cfor he still lives on the\nearth and is even now in this island.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I would I might see him again,\u201d cried Blowing Fog, \u201cfor he was as\nbeautiful and good as he was big.\u201d\n\n\u201cHighest Star was one of the names men called me by,\u201d said the\nmagician, modestly.\n\n\u201cBut he was double the size of you, chief,\u201d expostulated Blowing Fog.\n\u201cWith one blow of his hand he killed the great moose that swam across\nthe Narrow Sea to overthrow our lodges.\u201d\n\nShe eyed him skeptically.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf nodded his head. \u201cYes, yes, I remember,\u201d he said.\n\u201cThe great moose was thrice the size of his kind and his antlers\nspread more than the width of this fine lodge. He was king of all\nthe moose of the western lands. But I was more than ten feet high\nwhen I slew him. Large as I was then, I doubled my stature before I\nencountered that gigantic beast. As he drew himself out of the water, I\nsmote him on the forehead, for the safety of my people.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen why do you go about in so humble a shape to-day?\u201d asked Blowing\nFog, cunningly.\n\n\u201cYou do not believe me,\u201d he said, eyeing her steadily.\n\nThe old woman was silent for a moment.\n\n\u201cEven Bright Robe stood in fear of Highest Star,\u201d she said, \u201cbut\nWise-as-a-she-wolf went softly about the world, studying magic. He was\nnot a great warrior.\u201d\n\n\u201cHighest Star was one of the names men called me by,\u201d replied the\nyouth, quietly. He looked at Red Willow.\n\n\u201cDo you doubt what I tell?\u201d he asked her.\n\n\u201cI do not doubt you, chief,\u201d she replied.\n\nAt that moment the voice of Run-all-day was heard without, speaking\nto Singing Bird. As he entered, the women turned their eyes from the\nmagician to the door.\n\n\u201cWhere is the great and good Wise-as-a-she-wolf?\u201d asked the hunter,\npeering about him. Sure enough, there was not a sign of the young man\nin the lodge.\n\n\u201cHe is here,\u201d whispered Red Willow. \u201cHe was seated there, but a moment\nago.\u201d\n\nBlowing Fog gazed wildly around, but said nothing. She trembled\nwith fear, and wished that she had not voiced her doubts nor spoken\nslightingly of the gentle ways of Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\n\u201cI do not see him,\u201d said the hunter. \u201cSurely he slipped outside when\nyou were not watching.\u201d\n\nHe gazed all around, and up and down. \u201cWas he angry?\u201d he asked. \u201cWas he\ndispleased with me for having used the red feathers?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou used them in a good cause, my friend,\u201d said a gruff but kindly\nvoice from up near the peak of the high lodge. The three stared upward,\nawe-stricken. The old woman clung desperately to Red Willow. At last\nRun-all-day found his voice.\n\n\u201cAre you displeased with me, chief?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cNay, friend,\u201d replied the voice of the unseen, from the dusky peak of\nthe lodge, \u201c\u2019tis Blowing Fog who has displeased me with her talk.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut she is old, chief,\u201d said the hunter, apologetically. \u201cHer wits are\ndull, but her tongue wags. I am sure that, whatever she said, she meant\nnothing disrespectful by it.\u201d\n\nAt that, Blowing Fog loosed her hold of Red Willow\u2019s hand, and,\nforgetting her fear, glared in rage and amazement at her tactless\nson-in-law. So she wagged her tongue, did she? And she was old? And\nher wits were dull,--the impudent rascal. She drew a deep breath,\npreparatory to loosing her wrath upon the hunter, when the voice from\nthe roof spoke again.\n\n\u201cI, too, am old,\u201d said the voice. \u201cI was old before this woman was\nborn; and yet I do not doubt a person\u2019s word until I have proved him a\nliar.\u201d\n\nThe hunter looked sternly at the old woman. \u201cYou doubted this great\nchief\u2019s word,\u201d he cried. \u201cAnd yet you know that it was by his magic\ngift that I was able to fly to Whispering Grass, and home again, swift\nas a hawk, and so save the life of the little warrior.\u201d\n\nBlowing Fog was now too angry and mortified to fear anything.\n\n\u201cSilence, blockhead!\u201d she cried. \u201cWhat do you know of magic and\nmagicians? \u2019Tis but a little while since you were afraid to touch\nthe red feathers. And Bright Robe turned your heart to water, with a\nglance.\u201d\n\nShe looked upward. \u201cChief,\u201d she said, \u201chave you but made yourself\ninvisible and thrown your voice into the peak of the roof, or do\nyou really stand with your feet on the ground and your head in the\nsmoke-hole?\u201d\n\nPoor Red Willow was horrified at her mother\u2019s temerity and uncalled-for\nrudeness. With a sobbing cry, she tried to place her hand over the old\nwoman\u2019s mouth. But she did not succeed, and received a shrewd blow on\nthe cheek for her pains.\n\n\u201cOld woman, you shall see, with your own eyes, whether or not\nWise-as-a-she-wolf speaks the truth,\u201d cried the angry voice from above.\n\n\u201cForgive her, chief. Do not hurt her,\u201d cried Red Willow and the hunter.\nThen they fell back, against the bark walls of the lodge, speechless;\nfor there bulked a great figure, its feet in the middle of the floor,\nits knees bent, and its head against the very top of the roof.\n\n\u201cThese quarters cramp me,\u201d said the giant, and he immediately\nstraightened his knees and his back and expanded his chest. The great\nlodge was ripped and torn, and with the top of it on his head, the\nincensed magician strode away into the woods.\n\nThen there was panic and tumult in the village. Women screamed and men\nshouted and old Blowing Fog fell down in a fit. Red Willow clutched her\nlittlest baby tightly in her arms and her other children scampered to\nher protection and clung to her garments.\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d cried Run-all-day to the villagers. \u201cI do not blame the\ngreat magician for getting angry and showing his power. And see, he has\nhurt no one. Throw some cold water on the old woman. She insulted my\nfriend and master in my own lodge--and yet we must not let her die in\nthe grip of fear.\u201d He was very angry with his mother-in-law.\n\nLiberal sousings of icy water soon caused the old woman to open her\neyes, spring to her feet and attack the people who had carried the\nwater and poured it upon her with such gusto. She dealt old Green Bow a\nslap on the side of the head that shook the few teeth in his jaws, and\nwas about to assault another ancient warrior when Wise-as-a-she-wolf,\nonce more in the shape of a mild young man, again appeared. At sight\nof him she slipped quietly behind the fattest person present. The\nmagician went straight to Red Willow.\n\n\u201cI am sorry that I lost my temper,\u201d he said, sincerely. \u201cI acted like\na braggart; and I have ruined your fine lodge. But I will set to work\nimmediately to rebuild it.\u201d\n\nThe poles and bark of which the big wigwam had been constructed were\nuninjured. Wise-as-a-she-wolf and Run-all-day set to work like beavers\nand their example was soon followed by all the villagers save Green\nBow. He, poor old man, went home and nursed his jaw. By the fall of\ndusk the big lodge was as good as new again, and the entire family and\ntheir guest sat comfortably within. Blowing Fog busied herself with\ncooking the evening meal, and had not a word to say. But the sight of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s stature and strength had impressed her tough old\nheart more than a dozen less spectacular demonstrations of his magical\npowers would have done.\n\nThe good magician, his conscience still pricking him for his recent\nviolence, made himself very agreeable. He cut several of the bright\nstones from his shirt of leather and gave one to each of the children,\nincluding the girl, Singing Bird, and the littlest baby. \u201cThey are\njewels of courage,\u201d he said, \u201cand impart their virtue to the wearer.\nThey were dug from great mountains, by a fierce red-skinned people who\nlive far to the south and west, in a great land beyond the seas.\u201d\n\nHe told them some of the adventures that had befallen him since their\nlast meeting. He gave a modest account of his battle with Bright Robe,\nnear the lodge of Whispering Grass. The heart of Run-all-day was glad\nwithin him when he heard that the cruel magician had been overthrown\nand shorn of his powers for five long summers. Even Blowing Fog forgot\nher disgrace for a moment and cackled. \u201cHo! ho! Think of that little\nbrown owl with the heart of that great magician under his ribs. He will\nbe a mighty slayer of wood mice. Ho! ho!\u201d\n\nEverybody laughed at that,--even the little children who did not know\nwhat it meant.\n\nEarly next morning the magician drew Run-all-day aside and charged him\nto be careful of the red feathers.\n\n\u201cMake use of them only in worthy adventures, for the saving of your own\nlife or the lives of others,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd do not let them become a\nmatter of common report, for even though Bright Robe is harmless for a\nlong time, there are many others who know their virtue and would risk\nmuch to possess them. Remember that you have them in charge for the\nlittlest warrior, of whom I expect great things.\u201d\n\nThen he went into the woods and took the white robe from its\nhiding-place, and flew northward and westward.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE LITTLE BROWN OWL HUNTS FOR FOOD\n\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf had not been gone from the clearing of Whispering\nGrass more than ten minutes before the little brown owl that had once\nbeen Bright Robe made his appearance from the gloom of the woods and\nperched on one of the poles at the peak of the lodge. The old woman\nlooked up and saw the round, yellow eyes staring down at her with such\na hateful glare that she knew them for the orbs of the cruel magician.\nHer heart weakened within her. She could not remove her eyes from\nthe threatening, baleful regard. But as the owl did not come nearer,\ncourage returned to her by slow degrees. She remembered that, no matter\nhow murderous the bird\u2019s designs upon her, he was but a bird after all,\nwith no power to change his shape until five long summers were passed.\nSo, suddenly, she turned away, snatched a fagot from the ground and\nhurled it upward through the smoke-hole in the peak of the wigwam. But\nthe owl was already in the air, floating back to the dense shades of\nthe forest.\n\nThe owl did not move again from his retreat in a thicket of pines,\nuntil night. He was hungry; and as soon as darkness fell he ventured\nfrom his perch to look for food. The thought of raw flesh was not\nrepulsive to him, for he had even eaten it in his human form; but he\nhad grave misgivings as to his present ability to kill. He knew that he\nmust fly very quietly, peering about for mice and birds, and, at the\nfirst movement in the moss or foliage, pounce down and strike with his\nclaws. So shrewdly did hunger gnaw him that he quite forgot, for the\ntime being, the indignity of his position.\n\nHe moved through the forest ways like a drifting shadow, sometimes\nclose to the ground, sometimes among the pointed tree-tops. For several\nhours he hunted high and low, far and wide, without detecting so much\nas a sign of life in woodland or barren. At last he lit on the tip of a\nlittle spruce tree and peered sharply about on all sides and listened\nintently. He heard a slight rustle at the foot of the tree but could\nsee nothing. Again the rustling sound came to his alert ears and\nhe saw something moving on the ground, beyond the lowest branch of\nthe tree. It must be a mouse he thought, and the idea fairly made his\nlittle beak water with anticipation of the feast.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cTHE ASTONISHED BUNNY HAD DEALT HIM A SHREWD BLOW WITH\nONE OF HIS BIG HIND LEGS.\u201d]\n\nHe marked the spot, and pounced. His claws hooked into a hairy mass.\nSomething snarled and sprang. With a terrified squawk he bounced to one\nside, just out of reach of a pair of snapping jaws, and flew swiftly\ninto the top of a pine. He had mistaken the tail of a fox for a mouse.\n\nThe owl learned several more useful lessons that night; but he made no\nkill. He was knocked about by a white hare, on which he had pitched\nwith a magician\u2019s scorn of the powers of a hare; but he was only a\nvery small owl after all, and the astonished bunny had dealt him a\nshrewd blow with one of his big hind legs. The only mouse that he had\ndiscovered had escaped him with ease; and, most bitter of all his\nexperiences, he had been hunted himself by a great white bird whose\nwings were as silent as his own. Just before dawn, he returned to the\nlodge of Whispering Grass and found a few scraps of frozen fish near\nthe store-house of bark and logs.\n\nHe ate these ravenously, tearing them with beak and claws. When his\nhunger was satisfied, he examined the store-house carefully. It was\na very small building, raised on four stumps to a height of several\nfeet from the ground. The walls were made of logs, fitted tightly and\nstrongly together, but it seemed to him that the roof was composed of\nnothing more substantial than a few sheets of birch bark. He scratched\nat the bark with his claws and jabbed at it with his beak. He got quite\nbeside himself with rage; but his desperate attempts to tear the roof\nof the old woman\u2019s store-house, so that he could carry away her meat\nand fish, proved futile.\n\nAt last, weary from his exertions, he flew to a near-by tree to think\nthe matter over. He did not care greatly about the food, for its own\nsake, for a very little of it would keep him in plenty; but he wanted\nto steal and destroy it so that Whispering Grass would starve. A bright\nidea occurred to him. He would go to a lynx, or a bear, and tell him\nthat much good food lay close at hand, with only a roof of bark to\ncover it. And perhaps he could even persuade some big animal to destroy\nold Whispering Grass herself. Surely the mention of his true name would\nbe enough to induce the fiercest beast in the forest to do his bidding.\n\nThe little owl lurked in a tree-top all day, planning his revenge on\nthe old woman. As soon as dusk fell, he flew to the clearing and beheld\nWhispering Grass squatted in the doorway of her lodge, eating her\nevening meal. A dish of meat lay on the ground beside her and the smell\nof it awoke a man\u2019s appetite in the stomach of the fluffy little bird.\nHe perched on the top of the lodge and stared down at his enemy and her\nrepast. He made no sound, and she did not look up. Suddenly he dropped\nupon the dish, sank his claws into the largest slice of meat, flew\nswiftly back to his tree and swallowed it to the last tough shred.\n\nThe old woman knew, in a moment, that the thief was Bright Robe, for\nno other owl would have sufficient courage to take food from so near a\nhuman being.\n\n\u201cHe might even attack me,\u201d she mumbled, \u201cand claw my eyes out.\u201d\n\nSo she carried her supper into the lodge, fastened the flap across the\ndoorway and put more wood on the fire. Terror of the evil magician was\nlike a cold wind upon her back.\n\nAfter finishing his meal, the owl set out in search of a lynx or a\nbear. The little victory over Whispering Grass made him feel quite\nlike his old self; but he did not forget the lessons that he had\nlearned the night before. He flew cautiously, avoiding the open spaces\nfor fear of the big white bird. He investigated every thicket, entering\nfrom above as a matter of discretion. Though he was looking for a lynx,\nhe did not want to find one unexpectedly, and he suspected the lower\nbranches of every tree of sheltering a crouching fox.\n\nAfter several hours of searching, the little brown owl happened upon\nan old she bear. She was hunting mice and seemed to be in a cranky\nhumour; and when the owl accosted her politely, in the language of the\nwoods-people with which he had become familiar during his long life as\na magician, she did not so much as look up at him. The owl was nettled.\n\n\u201cDo you hear me speak?\u201d he asked.\n\nThe bear grunted and began to amble away.\n\n\u201cHold, hold,\u201d cried the owl. \u201cIf you are hungry, I can tell you where\nto get food in plenty.\u201d\n\nAt that the bear halted and turned.\n\n\u201cHungry,\u201d she grumbled. \u201cWould I be grabbing at little mice if I were\nnot hungry, you miserable, fleshless bunch of feathers?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you talk like that,\u201d replied the owl, \u201cyou may go fill your paunch\nwith moss and twigs.\u201d\n\nThe bear grumbled more than ever. She did not like owls, for they had\nthe reputation of pretending to know a great deal, and, in reality, of\nknowing very little. Also, she had once tried to make a meal off one of\nthese scrawny birds, in a time of famine. On the other hand, she was\nfar too hungry to turn her back on any chance of obtaining a full meal.\n\n\u201cYou must excuse my rudeness,\u201d she grumbled, \u201cbut I\u2019m really so worried\nabout the scarcity of fish and soft roots and the activity of the\nhares, that I scarcely know what I say. I believe you mentioned food.\nWhat kind of food?\u201d\n\n\u201cPemmican and smoked salmon and dried caribou meat,\u201d said the owl.\n\nThe old bear sat up and pressed her paws to her stomach.\n\n\u201cIf I could only believe it. But you owls are all liars,\u201d she mumbled.\n\n\u201cI only appear to be an owl,\u201d said the little bird. \u201cI am, in reality,\nthe great magician Bright Robe.\u201d\n\nThe bear paid no attention to this remark.\n\n\u201cWhere is the food?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cIn the clearing of that old woman called Whispering Grass,\u201d the owl\ninformed her.\n\n\u201cIn her store-house?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd is the old woman dead?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied the owl. \u201cShe is not dead yet.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps you mean that you intend to kill her,\u201d sneered the bear.\n\n\u201cIf you carry away her food, then she\u2019ll die of starvation,\u201d said the\nwicked little owl.\n\nThe bear was quite inarticulate with fury and disgust. She ran to the\ntree on which the bird was perched and clawed at and shook it.\n\n\u201cYou feather-head,\u201d she managed to growl, at last, \u201cdo you want me to\nget my hair all eaten off again by that old woman\u2019s red fire? I know\nher store-house, you rascal. It is as strong as a rock. I tried to\nbreak into it once, when I was younger, and she came out with a stick\nof fire and hit me a hundred times.\u201d\n\nBefore the owl could recover himself from the unexpected outburst of\nwrath, the old she bear had ambled swiftly into the depths of the\nforest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE LITTLE BROWN OWL HAS MORE TROUBLE\n\n\nThe little brown owl was both astonished and enraged at the bear\u2019s\nbehaviour. He wanted to cry threats and derision after her; but he had\nalready learned that it is not wise for a small owl to make itself too\nconspicuous in the wilderness, especially at night. So he contented\nhimself with planning, for a full half-hour, the fate of that she\nbear, should she oblige him by living until the five long summers and\nwinters of his enchantment were passed. Even in his pitiful bird-shape\nhe enjoyed nothing so much as the scheming of awful revenges on his\nenemies. So for awhile, the matter of the old woman was driven from\nhis thoughts; but it was recalled to his mind by the sight of a lynx\nmoving noiselessly past the foot of the tree upon which he was perched.\nWithout hesitation, he requested the big cat to stop and hear what he\nhad to say. The lynx obeyed like a flash, leaping into the air and\nalighting with his head toward the tree, crouched, his green eyes\nsinister and steady.\n\n\u201cWho speaks?\u201d he snarled.\n\nHis round head was close to the ground, much lower than his\nhind-quarters, under which his great hind legs were doubled like\nsprings. He was ready to launch himself upward or forward, as the case\nmight require. His white teeth gleamed in the starlight.\n\n\u201cIt is I, Bright Robe, who speaks,\u201d replied the owl. The name seemed to\nconvey no particular meaning to the lynx.\n\n\u201cHah, it is nothing but a little owl,\u201d he snarled, and turned about as\nif to continue on his interrupted business.\n\n\u201cNot so fast,\u201d cried the other. \u201cI am Bright Robe, the great magician,\nthe greatest magician in the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no time to sit and listen to the lies of an owl. I am hungry\nand must hunt,\u201d replied the big cat.\n\n\u201cI tell you, I am Bright Robe, the master of magic,\u201d cried the bird.\n\n\u201cThen turn yourself into a nice fat hare, and jump down here, and I\u2019ll\nturn you into a lynx,\u201d said the beast, grinning wickedly over his\nshoulder. \u201cI am something of a magician myself,\u201d he added.\n\n\u201cWhy do you not believe me?\u201d asked the owl.\n\n\u201cWho ever believed an owl?\u201d replied the other, \u201cor, for that matter,\nwho ever believed the word of Bright Robe? So you are a liar, whoever\nyou are.\u201d\n\nThe owl changed the subject immediately.\n\n\u201cIf you are looking for food,\u201d he said, \u201cI know where there is plenty\nof it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat kind of food?\u201d inquired the lynx.\n\n\u201cPemmican, and smoked fish, and dried meat,\u201d replied the bird, in his\nmost seductive voice.\n\n\u201cNothing fresh?\u201d asked the other.\n\n\u201cWell, not fresh, exactly, but all sweet and in prime condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the store-house of old Whispering Grass.\u201d\n\n\u201cMiserable bird,\u201d cried the lynx, \u201cwhy have you wasted my time with\nthis idle tale? That old woman\u2019s store-house is as strong as a\npine-tree.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe walls may be strong,\u201d replied the owl, \u201cbut the roof is of bark.\nOne stroke of your great claws would tear it to strips.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was of poles, laid snug together, when I last clawed at it,\u201d said\nthe lynx.\n\n\u201cI tried it last night,\u201d answered the owl, \u201cand it was of bark.\u201d\n\nThe lynx came close to the tree and glared up at the bird. His eyes\nwere round and green, and made the owl feel quite uncomfortable. He was\nglad that Wise-as-a-she-wolf had not let him loose in the wilderness in\nthe form of a hare.\n\n\u201cWhy are you so anxious that I should have plenty of food?\u201d inquired\nthe lynx, suspiciously. \u201cI did not know that we were such good friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be honest with you,\u201d replied the owl, \u201cI want you to eat and carry\naway the old woman\u2019s food so that she shall starve. My suggestion is\nnot prompted by friendship for you so much as by my enmity toward her.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is that? I never knew the old woman to have an enemy before,\u201d said\nthe lynx.\n\nThen the owl told the story of how the old woman had shot the arrow at\nhim, when he was in his proper form of Bright Robe.\n\n\u201cWhy did you not slay her then, oh mighty one?\u201d sneered the lynx, who\ndid not believe a word of the story.\n\n\u201cIt--it was not convenient for me to do so, just then,\u201d answered the\nbird.\n\n\u201cThen why not do it now?\u201d asked the lynx. \u201cIf you are a great magician\n\u2019twould be a simple matter for you to turn yourself into a bear and\ngo tear the old woman\u2019s store-house to fragments, or even eat the old\nwoman.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo do so now would disturb my plans,\u201d cried the bird, petulantly. \u201cI\ndo not wish the old woman to see my hand in the matter,\u201d he added, more\nquietly.\n\nThe big cat snarled disgustedly.\n\n\u201cWhy do you tell me such a foolish story?\u201d he asked. \u201cI have never\nheard so many lies in all my life before.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the truth,\u201d said the bird.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know why a miserable little owl should want an old woman to\nstarve (which she wouldn\u2019t, anyway, because she can catch plenty of\nfish in the lake), but I\u2019ll just go along and see if what you say about\nthe roof of the store-house is true or not,\u201d said the lynx, turning and\nwalking away.\n\nThe owl flew after him and floated above his head.\n\n\u201cI did not think of that,\u201d he said. \u201cI forgot that she could catch\nfish in the lake. You had better go right into her lodge and kill her.\u201d\n\nThat was too much for the lynx. Without any warning, he sprang into the\nair and struck at the bird with unsheathed claws. He missed his mark by\nan inch.\n\nThe terrified owl flew into the nearest tree and sat there quietly\nfor half an hour. He was thoroughly disheartened, and could not help\nwondering what would have happened to him if the lynx had struck him.\nOf course he would have suffered the pangs of a violent death; but\nwould his spirit--his immortal life--have remained in the body of the\ngreat cat, after it had crunched and swallowed his meagre flesh and\nbones, or would he have been fated to wander, formless, until the awful\nfive summers were passed? The idea was a terrible one, however he\nconsidered it. As a man, even as a magician, he had always feared pain;\nand, surely, it was better to be a bird than have no body at all.\n\nAt last the little owl roused himself from his unpleasant reflections\nand winged silently away in the direction of the lodge of Whispering\nGrass. He soon reached the little clearing, and floated across it,\nclose to the ground. He alit on a small tree in the shadow of the\nwoods, from which he had a good view of the lodge and the store-house.\nHe had not been perched there long before he saw the lynx steal into\nthe starlit clearing from the black edge of the forest. He was not\nsurprised at the sight.\n\nThe lynx advanced cautiously, slowly, often halting and looking\nsuspiciously about him. He circled the lodge twice, then crept to the\nstore-house and glided around and around it. He evidently suspected\nthe owl of trying to tempt him into a trap. At last he stood up on his\nhind legs and clawed the walls of the little store-house inquiringly.\nHe sniffed at the cracks between the poles, at first with distrust but\nsoon with evident relish. He reached up a paw and felt the roof of\nbark. He examined it, in this way, from all sides, and failed to detect\nany manner of trap. At last he dropped back, squatted for a moment,\nand then sprang lightly to the roof and straightway began ripping the\nbark. At first he did it gently, inquiringly, but soon, finding a stout\nprotection of poles everywhere under the bark, he became violent. The\nfragrance of the pemmican and fish and flesh stole up to his hungry\nnostrils and he forgot all caution in his mad efforts to tear the\nwell-pinned roof into fragments.\n\nThe owl, watching from his perch, was at first surprised at the other\u2019s\nfailure, then amused. The roof was more substantial than he had\nthought, after all. Well, it did not matter (except to the lynx), since\nthe old woman could live by catching fish in the lake.\n\nThe great hide which hung in front of the doorway of the lodge was\ndrawn noiselessly aside; and neither the owl nor the toiling lynx\nnoticed it. Then, suddenly, there sounded the sharp twang of a released\nbow-string, and, with a snarling scream, the lynx sprang from the\nroof of the store-house and fled into the woods. Again the bow-string\ntwanged and a second arrow sped from the black interior of the wigwam.\nIt struck a glancing blow on the roof where the lynx had so lately\nstood, flew upwards and sideways and hit the unsuspecting owl a hard\nblow across the breast with its shaft.\n\nThe owl found himself on the ground, feeling very sore and ill. He\ntried to fly, but could only flutter a foot or two at a time, so\nbruised were his muscles. He knew that the ground was not a safe place\nfor him and immediately began to make violent efforts to get into a\ntree. Again and again he hopped and fluttered, only to fall back each\ntime as if the boughs of the little spruce had pushed him away. It\nwas not only discouraging, but it hurt; and, worst of all, he still\nremained on the ground, at the mercy of prowling animals. He rested for\nawhile, and then continued his painful efforts to get into the tree.\nFailure followed failure, and he was steadily losing strength. He had\nabout decided to give up the attempt and look for some sort of hole in\nwhich to hide when he heard a soft foot-fall behind him. In a frenzy of\nterror he hopped upward again, flapped his wings desperately, touched\nthe end of a branch about six feet from the ground and clung with beak\nand claws. He felt himself slipping back. He clawed; he threshed the\nair and branches with his sore wings; and, at last, he reached a solid\nperch. At the same moment a big red fox glided, like a shadow, under\nthe tree. That was a close shave for the little owl.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nTHE MAGIC LODGE\n\n\nOf all the great magicians in the north, Wise-as-a-she-wolf alone\nworked solely for the welfare of mankind; and, as his reputation for\nvirtue grew, so did his enemies multiply. But, with the exception of\nBright Robe, not one of them could compare with him for cleverness, or\ncourage, or knowledge of the secret arts. Few of them possessed either\nbrain or determination enough to master more than the simplest lessons\nin magic! Having attained so far, they were content to practise their\nlittle arts covertly, to serve their own ambitions. They overthrew\ntheir enemies by provoking stronger people against them, working slyly,\nwith many false tales and foolish antics. They had been at the bottom\nof most of the wars in the big island, and, though they seldom fought\nin the front of the battle (not possessing the mastery over death, as\ndid Bright Robe and Wise-as-a-she-wolf), yet they usually gained power\nand wealth at the cost of the warriors\u2019 lives.\n\nThese people hated Wise-as-a-she-wolf, because he had always worked\nagainst them. When he was at home, the island was at peace; but no\nsooner was it known that he had gone to some distant land than a dozen\nlittle wars sprang up, every village was turned against its neighbour\nand battle and starvation ravaged the country. But, of late years,\nthe island had been quiet and prosperous. Bright Robe had been so\nlong in exile that he had become little more than a figure of legend,\nand Wise-as-a-she-wolf had spent enough of his time in the island to\nkeep the designers of evil in constant fear. Then the news of Bright\nRobe\u2019s return, in all his old power and wickedness, reached the\nlittle magicians. They heard that he was intent on the overthrow of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, and at that their black hearts rejoiced, and they\nbegan to plan murders and battles and thefts on their enemies. A few of\nthem had even seen Bright Robe and offered him their services; and he\nwas as great and terrible as their fathers had told them. And then, of\na sudden, he had disappeared and they feared that their wicked master\nhad deserted them, and had offended the gods afresh.\n\nNow, with Bright Robe again reduced to a term of inactivity, the good\nmagician had time to devote himself to an important task of a rather\nmore private nature than that of keeping his countrymen in order; and\nthis was the building of a stronghold in a forest in the very heart\nof the island. This forest was fenced, on the south and west, by a\nbend of the Purple Hills. Northward and eastward of it lay trackless\nmarshes and naked barrens. The forest was of pine-trees for the most\npart, standing tall and thick over miles of gently rolling country;\nand in the centre of it lay a pond, fed by hidden springs of pure,\nice-cold water. The good magician\u2019s lodge stood beside this pond.\nHe had commenced it when he first began to learn magic, and year by\nyear he had worked at it; and still it was not entirely finished.\nThere was ever some new beauty to be added to roof or walls. Only the\nCrimson Wigwam, beyond the western edge of the world, and other homes\nof the gods beyond the walls of ice, surpassed this magic lodge which\nWise-as-a-she-wolf had built with his own brains and hands. To begin\nwith, one might stare straight at it for hours, or for a hundred\nyears, and see nothing but pine-trees. There was not so much as a sign\nof a clearing to lead one to think that a great lodge stood there.\nAnd yet, if one were able to reach that particular portion of forest\nwhere the lodge was, and pass the walls, he would find that he could\nwalk straight through the tree-trunks, as if they were as immaterial\nas shafts of sunlight. And so they were. For the sturdy pines that\nseemed to crowd so close in the compass of the lodge were but images of\nthe trees that had stood there before the magician had cut them down,\nspellbound there to deceive the common eye. Nothing but the greatest\nmagic could have accomplished such a miracle. But the builder had\nguarded against the chance of any one blundering against the invisible\nwalls and thereby discovering their magic quality, by encircling the\nimmediate vicinity with enchantment so potent that it would lead a\ntraveller ever to one side or the other and yet let him believe that he\nwas walking straight ahead.\n\nThis forest was occasionally visited by wandering hunters, and\nmore than one party of adventurous braves had camped, for a night\nor two, beside the crystal pond; but none had ever suspected that\nWise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s home was so near at hand.\n\nTo eyes that could see it, the lodge was a fascinating and beautiful\nplace. Every stone, and log and sheet of bark that had been used in the\nbuilding of it, had been converted, inside or out, into something rare\nand wonderful. Bark had been taken from a thousand birch trees and half\nas many fir trees to cover the roof, which was higher than the top of\nthe tallest pine and painted like the roof of the world; painted so\ncunningly, with magic pigments, that it changed in colour, hour by hour\nthrough the days and the nights and the seasons, with all the colours\nof the sky. It was as beautiful as the sky; and yet neither rain nor\nsnow could pierce it, and clouds could not hide its charms from the\ndweller beneath it. At night it shone with stars, made of rare jewels\nwhich the builder had brought from a distant land. They flashed an\nhundred colours in the light which shone from the big lamps in golden\nvessels that gave forth no smoke in the burning.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cHERE A GOD STOOD HUGE AND BLACK AGAINST A SUNSET SKY,\nLOOKING OUT ACROSS A DARKENING WORLD.\u201d]\n\nThe outer walls (invisible to the eyes of every one but\nWise-as-a-she-wolf) were dull and plain, save for the windows of\ncrystal as clear as ice. They were built of great fragments of\ngranite, and pine logs, set skilfully and firmly together. But within,\nthe rough materials had been smoothed to fine surfaces whereon the\nmaster had painted hunters and beasts, warriors, lovers and battles,\nspring and summer and winter, children and gods, in living colours.\nNever had there been such a picture before; and never, I fear, will\nthere be such an one again. He had wrought on it for years. To stand\nin the midst of those four walls was to have life, and all the men\nand wonders of the world, within the glance of your eye. Here stood\ntwo young lovers in a sunlit glade; and there sat a group of old\nstory-tellers around a cooking-fire. Here a hunter stooped above a\nfallen stag, his red knife in one hand, his slackened bow in the other;\nand there a young mother washed her babe in a clear stream. Here a\ngod stood huge and black against a sunset sky, looking out across\na darkening world of pigmy villages and wide forests; here a naked\nchild sat in the sunlight and played with toys of carved wood; here\nwere fields of ice, and a gray sea, and innumerable seals; and there\nran a great wolf with his thin red tongue hanging from his jaws. Here\nwas a girl weaving a basket of split willows, her face bent demurely\nabove her work; and you had but to turn your head to behold five-score\nwarriors in battle, dealing blows and shedding blood.\n\nAs these pictures grew under the hand of the good magician, it seemed\nto him a pity--great work selfishly done--if no one but himself should\nbe allowed to enjoy them. So he went out from his magic house, and\ntravelled among his people with this thought in his mind. And, first of\nall, he found a man called Wounded Hawk, who was crippled and sick and\na burden to the village in which he lived. The man was tired of life,\nfor he had always been active and adventurous, and now his hunting days\nwere over because of an injury he had received in a fight with a bear.\nSo the magician took him from his poor wigwam, in the dead of night,\nand carried him to his own magic lodge.\n\nFor twenty days, Wounded Hawk lived in that house of wonder; and not\nonce, in that time, did he see his unknown host, though food and drink\nwere always at his hand. He lived as one in a dream, and was happy from\ndawn till dark in the contemplation of the pictures, all valour and\nromance and tenderness and adventure and sheer delight; and yet he\nknew that they were but drawings of a real world and common things. So\nhis old zest in life returned to him, and his face grew rosier and his\neyes brighter. Stories of the battles and the huntings and the homelier\nincidents, stirred in his brain. On the night of the twentieth day, as\nhe lay in a sound sleep, Wise-as-a-she-wolf lifted him in his arms and\ncarried him back to his poor wigwam. When he awoke, he looked about\nhim at the sloping walls of bark and rubbed his eyes. Then he laughed,\nthinking of the wonderful dream he had enjoyed and of the pleasure he\nwould have in telling it to his friends. Though he was still lame in\none leg, he felt vigorous and happy, and left his lodge and greeted his\nfriends with a merry face.\n\nOf course they stared at him in amazement. \u201cWhere have you been?\u201d they\ncried. \u201cYou look as if you had found a good hunting-ground.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have had a good sleep, and a fine dream,\u201d replied Wounded Hawk.\n\n\u201cHave you been sleeping ever since you went away?\u201d they asked. \u201cHave\nyou been dreaming for twenty days?\u201d\n\n\u201cTwenty days?\u201d queried Wounded Hawk, opening his eyes wide.\n\n\u201cDid you think that we would not look inside your wigwam, when we\nmissed you?\u201d asked the chief of the village. \u201cCome, now, tell us what\nmischief you were about?\u201d\n\nWounded Hawk shouted with joy. \u201cThen it must be true,\u201d he cried, \u201cand\nnot a dream after all.\u201d\n\nThey continued to question him, and he told them a little part of the\nwonder of the magic lodge and magic pictures. At first they thought he\nwas deceiving them; then they crowded about him to hear his stories.\nThey built him a comfortable lodge and gave him furs and food; and\nhis fame went abroad as the master of story-tellers, the maddest of\ndreamers.\n\nAnd from then, to the day of his death, life seemed a fine thing to\nhim and the world a delightful place. The wonders of the pictures\nand the magic lodge were always green in his memory and his stories\ncarried the fame of the Pictures of Life far and wide. Warriors and\nchildren came to his lodge and begged him to talk, and he told them\ngreat stories. He even painted pictures, with coloured earths and dyes,\non bark and dressed hide, making them as much like the pictures in his\nmind as he was able. And he was always striving to make them better,\nand to tell finer stories. Love and honour were his; and when he died,\npeople mourned him as the mightiest warrior is not mourned. And his\nsoul (which was not crippled) went gladly out on an eternal quest of\nvalorous and beautiful things.\n\nAnother had seen the magic lodge. An old woman, whom the good magician\nhad found in a deserted camp, had ended her days there, thinking\nherself beyond the black river of death.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE ADVENTURE OF JUMPING WOLF\n\n\nJumping Wolf was a young man of twenty years of age, who belonged to\na big village in the south. His father had been chief of the village\nuntil an enemy--a coward who knew a little magic--had first worked his\ndownfall by secret methods, and then killed him with his own hand. Then\nJumping Wolf killed the murderer with a blow of his club, knocked three\nof the false villagers senseless, and ran for his life. That happened\nin March, when the snow still lay deep, but with a crust over it in\nmost places.\n\nTwenty men, old and young and of middle-age, gave hot chase to Jumping\nWolf. They filled the woods with their cries of anger; but the fugitive\nran quietly, saving his breath and his strength. He was a good runner,\nand had been named for his agility. Within a half-hour of the fight\nin the village, five of the oldest men gave up the pursuit and leaned\nheavily against the trunks of trees, gasping for breath. They felt so\nmany pains in their insides from the unwonted exertions, that they were\nsorry they had left the village. It was not long before more of the\npursuers stopped running; and they were so spent that they simply fell\nflat on the snow, in agonies of exhaustion. They were very fat, and\nwondered why they had been such fools as to join the chase.\n\nWithin an hour of the commencement of the flight, only four men\ncontinued to run on the trail of Jumping Wolf. These were strong men,\ntireless and courageous. Two of them were seasoned warriors and two\nwere youths of the fugitive\u2019s age. At last the chase led to an open\nbarren which, after a mile of level, sloped up to a bleak hill. Here\nand there on the barren were ponds and great boulders, and clumps of\nspruce-tuck.\n\nJumping Wolf headed straight across the barren, running evenly and\nsteadily; and, as he ran, he slipped his bow from his shoulder and\npulled an arrow from the quiver at his belt. He had done nothing but\nslay the murderer of his good father, and there was neither relenting\nnor fear in his heart. His had been the hand of justice; and if he\nmust die for it he would die fighting. Death was nothing for a man to\nfear--but, life?--ah, it was surely a pleasant state. So he fitted the\nnotch of an arrow on the string of his bow, and ran on until he reached\na little clump of spruce-tuck. Here he turned, breathing deep. One of\nhis pursuers was already half-way across the intervening open and the\nother three were clear of the woods.\n\n\u201cGo back,\u201d shouted Jumping Wolf.\n\nBut the warrior who led the chase paid no heed to the warning. Then\nJumping Wolf raised his bow, pulled the notch of the arrow back to\nhis ear and let the shaft fly. It struck at the feet of the leading\npursuer, piercing the crust and bringing the warrior to a standstill.\n\n\u201cGo back,\u201d shouted Jumping Wolf, again. This time the enemy obeyed.\nTurning quickly, he ran back and joined his companions.\n\nAt that they all halted and looked uncertainly toward their quarry,\nacross the white expanse of snow. One of them carried a spear and the\nothers clubs or knives; but none of them had bows or arrows. They did\nnot know what to do next, and stood there, panting and staring. They\nhad not counted on finding the young man so formidably armed, for his\nclub had been knocked from his hand during the fight in the village\nand they had not seen, during the long run through the woods, the bow\non his back.\n\nJumping Wolf stepped forward six paces.\n\n\u201cThere is no mercy in my heart,\u201d he cried, and again raised his bow,\nwith an arrow fitted to the string. \u201cYou have hunted me like a lone\nwolf, now feel how long and sharp are the fangs of Jumping Wolf,\u201d he\nshouted, and loosed the shaft. They dodged this way and that; but one\nof them stumbled, leaped up again and scooted into the forest with a\nflake of sharpened flint sunk in the muscles of his shoulder. Next\nmoment, another felt the pang of a wound in the flesh of his leg; and\nthe young man laughed fiercely to see the barren so suddenly cleared of\nhis enemies.\n\nAs only four arrows remained in his quiver, he retraced his steps\nto where the first arrow stood upright in the crust and returned it\namong its fellows. Then, after a keen scrutiny of the forest woods\ninto which his enemies had retired, he turned again and continued his\njourney across the barren and up the side of the bleak hill. He looked\nback, from the ridge of the hill, but could detect no sign of his late\npursuers. Before him lay more barren ground, and beyond that the black\nforests stretching on every side. He looked up at the sun, a silver\nball in a sky of March blue.\n\n\u201cI shall go east and south,\u201d he said, and went forward bravely. He\nfelt no ill effect from the desperate run he had been forced to make.\nBut grief and anger, and hate for the village that had been his home,\nglowed in his heart.\n\nSo he travelled for days; and, for a time, he spent his nights without\nthe cheerful company of fire, not sure that his enemies had left his\ntrail. He killed enough small game to supply himself with food, and\nsuffered from nothing except loneliness, and sorrow for his father\u2019s\ndeath. He had known no other care save a father\u2019s since his earliest\nyears. On the tenth day after his escape from the village, he wounded a\nyoung stag with his arrows and then ran it down in the melting snow. So\nhe built a small shelter where the stag was killed, and paused in his\njourney to make a pair of snow-shoes, and smoke some of the meat.\n\nIn this manner he spent more than a week very comfortably. When the\nsnow-shoes were made, and the best parts of the meat were cured, and a\ndozen blunt-headed arrows shaped, for the killing of partridges and\nhares, he set out again on his journey.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cHE SPRANG ASIDE INTO THE SHELTER OF A TREE TRUNK, AND\nPEERED BACK ALONG THE WAY HE HAD COME.\u201d]\n\nBy this time, the soft voices of spring were awake in the\nwilderness,--the murmur of streams gnawing at rotten ice, the dull\ncreakings of subsiding snows, the swish of thawing winds across the\nmiles of forest. The snow was wet and heavy, where it still lay deep in\ndrifted places, and Jumping Wolf was glad that he had halted to make\nthe snow-shoes, rough as they were.\n\nThe spring advanced swiftly. Soon the streams were roaring free and\nthe great rivers were swinging the pans of broken ice in mid-current;\nboiling over them, and driving them together, mass upon mass, in\ntumbled barriers of white and gray. The lakes and ponds moved in their\ndepths at the sure call, split the roofs of their prisons, and sent the\nsullen fragments adrift.\n\nThe shades of night were gathering through the forest, and Jumping Wolf\nwas beginning to look about him for a suitable place to camp when an\narrow whistled past him, close to his head. He sprang aside, into the\nshelter of a tree trunk, and peered back along the way he had come. His\nkeen sight detected a movement, as of a shadow, slipping among shadows.\nHe unslung his bow from his shoulder, and in so doing was reminded of\nthe fact that his snow-shoes, crude, heavy affairs, still hung over his\nback, where he had been carrying them since the previous day. He was\nabout to free himself from their weight, the better to flee or fight,\nas the case might be, but he stayed his hand. He might need them.\nAnyway, he was pressed for time, now.\n\nHe still possessed five barbed arrows. He drew one of these, placed the\nnotch on the string, and slipped the blunted arrows on the ground. Then\nhe stood motionless, watching and listening. A small stream, swollen\nwith snow-water, ran somewhere near at hand, and he could hear no sound\nsave its gurgling and booming. After a long suspense he saw, by the\nfaint light, the figure of a man stealing toward him. He waited, alert\nand breathless, until it came so near that he knew it for the warrior\nat whose feet he had shot the arrow into the crust, on the first day of\nhis flight. Then, without a word of warning, with the rage of a hunted\nbeast in his heart, he drew the bow and loosed the shaft. The warrior\nuttered a piercing scream, sprang forward and fell on his face.\n\nJumping Wolf ran, keeping straight to his course through the twilight\nforest. He had heard cries of rage in answer to the scream of the\nwounded pursuer, and another arrow had passed near him; but now, save\nfor an occasional swish of underbrush on his track, the hunters made no\nsound. He ran steadily, but with care, for the ground was treacherous.\nBeyond the bow and four remaining arrows, he was unarmed. He had not\neven the flint blade with which he was in the habit of preparing his\nmeat for cooking. The knife had dropped from his belt, unnoticed, early\nin the day. He had not so much as a well-balanced stick, with which to\nfight at close quarters.\n\nPresently the ground began to slant before him. He slackened his pace\na little and ran more cautiously; and the pursuit drew nearer. Now the\nslope became very marked, and twice, in the thickening darkness, he\nstumbled heavily. But friendly underbrush saved him from falling. His\nface and body were switched painfully by branches and he bruised his\nfeet on roots and rocks.\n\nSuddenly, through the dark wood in front, he saw a glimmer of open\nspaces, a gray glimmer dotted with lighter spots, and in another second\nhe stood at the edge of a great lake whose farther shores were hidden\nin the night. Pans of ice dotted the grim water for as far as he could\nsee, and one, of good proportions, swung within sixteen feet of the\nshore.\n\nHe had been well named when the chief, his father, had called him\nJumping Wolf. Without a moment\u2019s hesitation he retreated a few paces,\nthen ran forward to the lip of the cold tide and leaped into the air.\nAnd even as he alighted on the raft of ice, on feet and hands, with\nbent knees under him, he felt something strike and glance from the\nsnow-shoes on his back. He had been saved from the flinthead of an\narrow.\n\nThe shock of contact drove the ice-pan, sullenly rocking, farther away\nfrom shore. Jumping Wolf steadied himself for a second, crouched low.\nAn arrow struck the ice close to his hand; another zipped into the\nwater a few feet beyond. He turned, still crouched low, and loosed his\nremaining arrows, in quick succession, at the black shadows. A sharp\ncry and more arrows answered him. Two of the shafts struck ringing on\nthe ice, and glanced across into the water. He removed his snow-shoes\nfrom his back, bound them firmly together, face to face, lay flat as\nnear one edge of the pan as he dared, and used them for a paddle.\nThe unwieldy craft answered to the strokes, circling and wallowing,\nbut drawing steadily away from the dangerous shore. He paddled with\nall his strength, and once narrowly escaped pulling himself into the\nwater. Now the arrows flew wider, and he knew that his enemies were\njudging his position, and the distance, without the help of their eyes.\nHe was already congratulating himself on his temporary escape, when a\nshock and pang numbed his wrist. With a groan, he lost his hold on the\nimprovised paddle. One of the chance arrows had found him out.\n\nThe jagged flint had torn an ugly wound in his wrist, which bled\nfreely; and the pain of it, for a time, was bewildering. His belt was\nof soft leather, and with this he bound the wound securely, tying the\nbandage with a spare bow-string. After a while he began feeling about,\nin the darkness, for his snow-shoes. He probed here and there, on\nevery side, with his bow; but they had either sunk, with the weight of\nraw-hide thongs, or drifted out of reach.\n\nIt was cold out on the swollen, ice-drifted lake; and it grew colder\nand colder as the hours passed. The night was black and clouded,\nwithout so much as the glint of a star in the sky. A chill wind was\nafoot, driving the ice-pans down the lake.\n\nPoor Jumping Wolf found himself in a very discouraging situation. His\nright arm from finger tips to shoulder throbbed steadily with the pain\nof his hurt. Cold bit every bone and hunger gnawed at his stomach;\nand the desolation of this strange, black lake, the extent and name\nof which were both unknown to him, got into his soul. But he would\nnot give up the fight, or even so much as contemplate despair. He had\ntravelled so far, and made three such brave escapes from his enemies,\nthat he could not believe the end of his career was at hand. So he\nkept on his feet, constantly shifting backward and forward a few steps\neach way, and waving his uninjured arm about to keep his blood in\ncirculation. His great hope was that the pan on which he stood would\nbe driven to the shore by daylight, or that the ice would be massed\nsufficiently close to allow him to gain the shore by leaping from cake\nto cake. He knew that, in his condition, weakened from cold and loss of\nblood, it would be sure death to attempt a swim of any distance in that\nicy water.\n\nThe night dragged out its black length. The wind fell; and by the time\na lift of gray dawn showed in the east, Jumping Wolf was crouching on\nthe ice, fighting an awful weariness and craving for sleep that weighed\non brain, eyes, and limbs. But as the light strengthened, he raised\nhis head and looked about him. He saw, with a dull disgust (for he was\nalmost past caring) that the shores were far away and the ice-pans\ndrifting wide apart. He staggered to his feet and gazed around. Was\nthat a trail of smoke above the dark trees? If so, perhaps it was from\nthe camp-fire of his enemies. But smoke meant fire, and fire seemed the\nvery spirit of life to his chilled brain. He should like to see that\nfire, to get close to it, even if death were the price. He could not\npersuade himself that death was to be escaped, in any case; so he sent\na shrill cry ringing across the water. Next instant he tottered, and\nfell within a finger\u2019s-breadth of the edge of the pan. Horror of the\nicy colourless flood sickened him, and he crawled back to safety and\nlay quiet.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nRUN-ALL-DAY AGAIN MAKES USE OF THE RED FEATHERS\n\n\nThe cry from the lake was heard by Run-all-day and other early risers\nin the little village. It was also heard by Jumping Wolf\u2019s enemies,\nwho had camped, for the night, on the other side of the lake. But they\ncould not answer it, for they had no canoes.\n\nRun-all-day looked in the direction of the cry and detected the human\nfigure on the distant ice-pan. He saw it fall, move slightly, and then\nlie quiet. He lifted his great canoe of bark, which, fortunately, he\nhad repaired with resin the day before, in preparation for the spring\njourney, and carried it to the shore. He shouted for his paddle; and,\nin a moment, Singing Bird came running from the lodge, with two paddles\non her shoulder. She, too, had seen and heard the sufferer out on the\ndrifting ice.\n\n\u201cLet me go with you, and paddle in the bow,\u201d she begged.\n\nAs the water was smooth and the ice scattered, the chief nodded his\npermission. In another second the great canoe was in the water and the\nwhite paddles were plying and flashing.\n\nAt last the canoe slid softly alongside the pan of ice on which the\nstranger lay, face-downward.\n\n\u201cCome, friend. We will give you a softer bed than that,\u201d cried\nRun-all-day.\n\nThe young man stirred slightly, but did not raise his head. The bow of\nthe canoe was within a few feet of him; so the girl leaned forward and\nprodded him sharply with her paddle.\n\n\u201cHarder! Harder!\u201d cried the chief. \u201cIf we do not wake him now, perhaps\nhe may never wake. Look, there is blood on the ice.\u201d\n\nSinging Bird reached out again and jabbed the stranger\u2019s ribs with\ndetermination but inconsiderable force. At the third jab, he drew\nhimself up on his knees and looked at them with a wide but dim glance.\nHe gazed at the chief and then at the girl.\n\n\u201cI do not know you,\u201d he said, slowly. \u201cYou are not from my village. Why\ndid you hunt me so?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are your friends, lad, and we did not hunt you,\u201d replied\nRun-all-day. \u201cCrawl over here and get into the canoe.\u201d\n\nThe young man did as he was told, but in a dazed, half-hearted manner.\n\n\u201cSteady,\u201d cried the chief. \u201cDon\u2019t step on the gunwale. There now, lie\ndown.\u201d\n\nThen Singing Bird pushed the bow of the canoe away from the flat\nice-pan with its great, red stain of blood. She wondered what the\nstranger\u2019s story would be, and her young heart fluttered at the\nadventure; but she paddled none the less diligently for all that.\n\nSilently crouched in the cover of the woods, the men who had so\nrecently been in murderous pursuit of Jumping Wolf beheld the rescue of\ntheir quarry. They were six in number; for, after Jumping Wolf\u2019s first\nstand against them on the barren, they had returned to the village for\nreinforcements, carrying their wounded. They had taken up the chase\nagain, with a strong party, urged to the deed by the brother of the\ndabbler in magic who had slain the old chief and who had been slain, in\nturn, by Jumping Wolf. But this worthy brother had not joined in the\nlong chase himself. It was wiser and more comfortable to sit at home\nand plan new campaigns. Now the pursuers were tired of the hunting.\nThey had lost their bravest man by Jumping Wolf\u2019s arrow, the night\nbefore. Another had been wounded. They were in a strange country and\nlonged for their own lodges and cooking-fires. So, when they saw the\ngreat canoe put out from the opposite shore, and the rescue of their\nintended victim from the ice, they retreated cautiously and then faced\nsouthward and westward for their own country.\n\nJumping Wolf lay in a raging fever for days. More than once his feet\nwere at the very edge of the long, dark trail which leads, at last, to\nthe hunting grounds beyond the setting sun. But he was well nursed, in\na quiet lodge, by old Blowing Fog and Singing Bird. Red Willow brewed\nherb-waters for him, when she could spare the time from her babies; and\nall the old men and women in the village gave medical advice, which\nBlowing Fog told them to keep for their own ailments. The commencement\nof the northward journey was delayed for two weeks by the stranger\u2019s\nillness, for Run-all-day would not risk the life he had saved for so\nsmall a matter as an early settlement in their summer lodges. But some\nof the cod-fishers grumbled, and even talked of parting from the other\nvillagers and going about their affairs without the sanction of their\nchief.\n\n\u201cGo, if you wish,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cBut if you do, you need not\nreturn to this snug village when the frost comes. You will have to find\nanother chief then, and another hunting-ground, and build new lodges.\u201d\n\nAfter all, they reflected, Run-all-day was a mighty warrior, a friend\nof magicians. Also, the valley was warm for a winter camp, and the\nsurrounding forests were rich with game. So they agreed that it was\nbetter to lose a few cod-fish than their membership in the village and\nthe protection of their big chief.\n\nWhen the fever had burned itself out of Jumping Wolf\u2019s brain and the\nawful weights and pains had passed from his chest, he told his story to\nhis new friends. No one doubted a word of the tale. Run-all-day was so\nmoved to anger against the distant villagers, that, had his awe of the\nred feathers been less, he would have put them within his moccasins and\nflown southward, to strike terror into those treacherous hearts. But,\nas it was, he vowed that Jumping Wolf had his love and protection for\nas long as he wanted them.\n\n\u201cLet me be one of your people, chief,\u201d said the young man. \u201cYou waked\nme from the awful sleep, gave me care and medicine, and turned my feet\nfrom the long trail. Only my own father and my mother, when I was a\nsmall baby, ever showed me such love as you and your people have shown\nme. When I am strong again I will hunt and fight for you and your\nhouse.\u201d\n\nSo Jumping Wolf, the fugitive from the south, became a warrior of\nRun-all-day\u2019s little clan.\n\nThe water was still high in the lakes and rivers, but clear of ice,\nwhen Run-all-day and his people at last set out on the northward\njourney. Now the days were warm, and the willows were bursting their\nsilver buds. The alders were fragrant with yellow blossoms. The snow\nhad faded away, save from the darkest recesses of the forest, and\nmany furtive blooms shone from the moss that floored the woodland\nvalleys. Geese and duck and brant had returned to their northern\nbreeding-places; plover and snipe piped and flew, and the burnished\nkingfisher flashed along the river, from point to point, grinding out\ndiscordant warnings, at the approach of the canoes.\n\nThey travelled swiftly, though forced to make many portages by the\nstrength of the swollen water. It was Run-all-day\u2019s intention to\ngo all the way to the great bay of salt water into which the River\nof Three Fires runs, making his summer camp there so as to keep his\nvillage intact. He was proud of his chieftainship. A greater and not\nless honest ambition than to kill salmon was astir in his manly heart.\nHe dreamed of a strong clan, mighty in peace and in battle, with\nhimself as its head and the friendship of Wise-as-a-she-wolf for its\nprotection. He knew that the future held great adventures; that a day\nof reckoning must come between the evil and the honest in every part\nof the island. He knew that Wise-as-a-she-wolf was the enemy of every\nworker of evil, and he knew that this meant that every other magician\nin the land, great or small, was the secret enemy of his friend and\nmaster. Never before had Run-all-day called a man his master, even in\nhis thoughts; but his brave and steadfast heart had gone out to the\ngood magician. He would fight his master\u2019s battles, when need came, and\nhe would see that his people did not shirk the fray.\n\nHe told his ambition to Red Willow, who was not in the least displeased\nwith it. She did not think her husband uncommonly clever, but she was\nsure that he was wise; and wisdom is a finer thing than nimbleness of\nwit.\n\n\u201cI shall not be the least of my family,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cThe world\nshall hear of me as a warrior and chief. I will care for my people as\nI care for my family; and there will be talk of my name around the\ncooking-fires long after my bones have been covered with the heavy\nstones.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou plan too far ahead, chief,\u201d cried Red Willow, tenderly. \u201cLet us\nnot contemplate the talk of the villages, an hundred summers hence.\u201d\n\nOn the third evening the whole party camped about a mile above the\ngreat falls. There would be a long carry, next morning, around that\nroaring, smoking tumult of black rocks and white waters. By the clear,\nearly light they would drop down, keeping close to the shore, to a\npoint as near the top of the falls as they dared. But now, with the\ntwilight deepening every moment, it was safer to land well out of reach\nof the torn currents. The chief\u2019s canoe had leaked slightly during the\nday; so, while the others made camp, he unloaded it and repaired it\nwith the mixture of melted fat and gum which he had invented for the\npurpose.\n\nVery early next morning, before the elders were astir, two of the\nchief\u2019s little boys, one of eight years of age and the other of six,\nstole from their beds to play. No day was long enough for playtime,\nso they must begin at the breaking of dawn. They ran over to their\nfather\u2019s big canoe. It lay with its bow at the edge of the water,\nempty. They played about it for a few minutes, jumping in and out,\nand sometimes pretending to paddle, each with a little stick. It was\nnot long, however, before the elder of the two began shoving at the\nstern of the canoe. The six-year-old joined him in the good work. What\nwas the fun of playing ashore when the river lay so near? Now was the\ntime to put pretence away and voyage forth like full-fledged warriors.\nThe canoe touched the water--advanced into the current inch by inch.\nNow half its length was afloat and the black water tugging at it. The\nchildren pushed and heaved, strong with the fire of adventure. They\nwere helped by a current that slanted outward from the shore at this\npoint, turned toward mid-stream by an eddy just below. At last the\ncanoe slipped free, and the children scrambled aboard with a shout of\ndelight; and the slanting current laid hold of the bark and swung it\ngaily away.\n\nOld Green Bow, attracted by their shout of glee, was the first to\ndiscover the children\u2019s danger. He saw the great canoe, riding high on\nthe water, swing in mid-stream and speed down the racing river. He saw\nthe little heads above the gunwale, and the little arms dipping the\nsticks over-side, as if they would hasten the canoe on her course to\nthe churning falls below. Green Bow\u2019s wits were hopelessly muddled at\nthe sight. He stared, open-mouthed and blank with horror. Then he ran\nto the edge of the shore and waved his arms frantically and foolishly\nafter the speeding craft. At last a shrill cry broke from him.\n\nWhen Run-all-day saw what the matter was, his tanned face went pale as\nthe bark of the distant canoe. Uttering a low cry, he sprang for one\nof the heavy skin-covered boats of his followers, and began unloading\nit with desperate energy. Even as he worked, the canoe bearing the\nchildren rounded a wooded bend and flashed from sight. He was about to\nhurl the skin-covered craft into the current, still half loaded, when\nRed Willow touched his arm.\n\n\u201cQuick! Here are the red feathers,\u201d she cried.\n\nHe slipped them into his moccasins, snatched a paddle from the ground,\nand leaped into the air; and the clustered villagers shouted as he\nrushed through space and beyond their sight, like a great bird. He did\nnot follow the river, but slanted upward and passed over the wooded\nbluff \u2019round which the canoe, with its precious freight, had so lately\ndisappeared. He marked it again in an instant, in a sweep of his\nvision, still unwrecked, but dashing, unsteered, where the water flung\nitself into white crests against a thousand scattered boulders. The\nroar of the falls was in his ears, and he saw its crown of spray not\nhalf a mile beyond the racing canoe.\n\nHe swooped downward and forward, with all the speed of the magic\nfeathers. It was plain to see that no human skill and strength could\nsave the good canoe from that mad tumult, so he loosed hold of the\npaddle. It fell in the water and swirled away. Next moment he was low\nabove the canoe. His flying feet touched the trembling structure. Close\nahead spouted a fountain of white water. The children were lying flat\non their faces, sobbing in an agony of fear. He snatched one, then the\nother, to his breast and let the doomed canoe go from under his feet.\nHe rose a little distance, clasping his children firmly, and watched\nthe canoe fling itself into the white water, emerge bottom-up and\nswing on, a battered wreck, toward the hungry falls. He had not been\na second too soon. He uttered a loud cry of thanksgiving, turned, and\nset his feet strongly to the currents of the morning air. And when the\nvillagers saw him top the wooded point, with his double burden, they\nshouted again, and danced wildly with up-flung arms.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nTHE GOOD MAGICIAN VISITS RUN-ALL-DAY\u2019S NEW VILLAGE\n\n\nThe \u201ccarry\u201d around the falls was accomplished by noon. Fifteen miles\nfarther down stream was another dangerous place, not a fall, but a long\nrapid that no canoe could get through at high water. That passed, it\nwould be quiet voyaging down to the great bay.\n\nRun-all-day did not utter a regret at the loss of his fine, birch-bark\ncanoe, though it caused quite a disturbance and delay in the\narrangements of the party. Well below the falls, in a grove of pines\nthat stood close to the river, the men set to work to cut logs for a\nraft. They used fire and their axes to fell the trees. It was a slow\njob and a hard one. When the trees came down (which they did not seem\nin any hurry to do) the branches were hacked off, and then the trunks\nwere divided into as many logs of the required length and girth as they\ncontained.\n\nEverybody worked willingly, for even the laziest of the young men\nrealized that the favour of a great chief like Run-all-day was\nwell worth sweating for. He was a friend of the good magician; he\npossessed the power of flight like a bird; he was able to snatch his\nchildren--then why not his warriors?--from the very jaws of death. So\nthey hacked and burned with a will.\n\nAt last ten logs were ready and rolled down to a quiet eddy against the\nshore. Six were floated side by side, close together, and bound firmly\nwith thongs of hide. The other four, slightly smaller in size, were\nbound on top of the six, making a sort of upper deck which stood clear\nof the water. But by the time the raft was completed, the sun was so\nlow in the west that it was hardly worth while to embark again that day.\n\nNext morning the raft was loaded with the provisions and household\ngoods that had begun the journey in the lost canoe. Some other freight\nwas added, and Run-all-day\u2019s family found seats, here and there, in\nthe other canoes. Then the chief and one of the young men manned the\nraft, one standing at each end, and pushed it out of the eddy with long\npoles. The raft proved almost as swift, or, rather, not much slower\nthan the canoes of hide, and it was certainly a great deal steadier and\nas easily managed. And so they continued their journey, but little the\nworse for the accident.\n\nWhen the rapid was reached the raft, with its freight securely\nfastened, was lowered from eddy to eddy, by means of a tow-line of\ntwisted hide.\n\nSalt water was reached about mid-afternoon of the next day, and the\ncod-fishers led the party straight to the site of their last year\u2019s\ncamp. Temporary shelters were pitched before dark. Then Run-all-day\nexamined the ground on every side, deciding the positions of the lodges\nand other weighty matters. So, in a week\u2019s time, Run-all-day\u2019s summer\nvillage was built; and the cod-fishing prospered amazingly.\n\nJumping Wolf won back his strength and was soon able to work at the\nfishing, to handle the cranky canoes, and to compete with the other men\nat all manner of sports. At shooting an arrow far and straight, only\nthe chief himself was the new clansman\u2019s superior. When he was fully\nrecovered from his illness, he could out-leap them all, jumping either\nhigh or wide. Also, he was the swiftest runner in the village; and even\nin the long races of five miles or more, only the chief could pass\nhim. So Jumping Wolf stood high among the warriors of the little clan.\n\nDuring the summer, six more families joined Run-all-day\u2019s band. They\nwere all of his own people, of the same great tribe into which he had\nbeen born. They had been without a leader for several seasons, moving\nas the whim suggested, hunting or fishing when need drove them to\nit, and constantly being bullied or robbed by more united families.\nSo, when they heard of the new chief and the new clan, and distorted\nversions of his flights through the air, they came to him, group by\ngroup, and begged to be taken under his protection.\n\nNow Run-all-day, so short a time before content to be only a good\nprovider for his family, found his hands full of other people\u2019s\nduties and his steady head fairly buzzing with affairs. But he worked\ncheerfully, turning aside from nothing; but when a matter seemed too\ndeep for him he sought the counsel of Red Willow, and usually got wise\nadvice. He fished as diligently as the most energetic of his followers.\nHe trained them in the uses of all manner of weapons, both for the\nchase and war. He made them practise archery, and spear-throwing, and\nthe art of attack and defence with clubs and knives. He set the old\npeople to making shields of hide and wood; and on rainy days every\nwarrior had to make arrows and bows, spears and paddles. And if any man\nsulked or idled, the chief took him aside and talked to him, and one\nsuch conversation proved enough, in every case.\n\nOne August evening, the good magician, Wise-as-a-she-wolf, stepped into\nthe village and greeted the people pleasantly. They had neither seen\nnor heard of him since early spring. He was in his customary form,\nthat of a gentle, rather undersized youth. The chief welcomed him with\nrespectful warmth and led him straightway to the evening meal. When all\nhad eaten, a great fire was built at the seaward edge of the village,\nand around this gathered the warriors and old men. The magician and\nRun-all-day sat side by side, on a bear-skin, separated a little on\neither hand from the others.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf spoke first. He had read the story of the chief\u2019s\nambition at a glance, and praised the village, the clean lodges, and\nthe store of fish. He warned the company against greed, false pride,\nand deceit, and told them that their hope for future happiness and\never-increasing strength lay in their loyalty to their leader.\n\n\u201cI have seen many a clan torn and scattered from within,\u201d he said.\n\u201cHarbour no traitors or cowards among you, and give ear to no talk that\nyou would not repeat openly to your chief and the whole village.\u201d\n\nThen Run-all-day told him, quietly, of how he had used the red feathers\nagain, to save the lives of two of his children from the fierce hunger\nof the river.\n\n\u201cYou did well, friend,\u201d replied the youth. \u201cBy every noble and merciful\ndeed in which they are employed their virtue is increased.\u201d\n\nHe bent close to the chief. \u201cThey would scarce lift me above the\nground, when I last took them from Bright Robe,\u201d he whispered.\n\nThe story of Jumping Wolf\u2019s flight from the south was told by\nRun-all-day. The magician listened intently, and then questioned the\nyoung warrior closely.\n\n\u201cI know those people,\u201d he said. \u201cThey listen to evil counsellors, to\nweaklings and cowards who play with magic and work it to their evil\ndesires.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is one such coward the less, now,\u201d said Jumping Wolf.\n\n\u201cDo not boast of the spilling of blood,\u201d replied the magician, gravely.\n\nAt that the young warrior hung his head, for the eyes of the great one\nwere upon him.\n\n\u201cBut some blood is better on the ground than in the heart,\u201d added\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, gently. \u201cAnd of such was the blood of the traitor\nwho died at your hand.\u201d\n\nThen Jumping Wolf lifted his head again and looked fearlessly at his\ncompanions. His heart was warm with courage, though it had quaked but a\nmoment ago.\n\nAs the night advanced, the warriors felt more at their ease. Stories\nof the day\u2019s work were told, and nods and laughter went \u2019round the\ncircle. More wood was heaped on the fire and old Green Bow, warmed to\nthe marrow, told boastful stories of his deeds in the chase, of what\na mighty fellow he was before the years stiffened his limbs. Other\nold men raised their voices, some to cast discredit on Green Bow\u2019s\ntales and some to sing the glories of their own past. There was talk\nof battles, and of cod-fishing, and of the killing of seals on the\nice-floes from the north.\n\nThe magician listened, smiling often, sometimes laughing outright, like\na boy; and, thus encouraged, the old men spurred their imaginations to\nthe uttermost.\n\nAt last the fire was allowed to subside, the company dispersed, and the\nchief led his guest to a wigwam that stood in the centre of the village.\n\n\u201cThis lodge is yours,\u201d said the chief. \u201cIt has been in readiness for\nyou since spring. And in our winter village we shall build another for\nyour use, chief.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou treat me well, friend,\u201d said the other, touched by the attention.\n\n\u201cYour red feathers have already saved the lives of three of my\nchildren,\u201d replied Run-all-day. \u201cThey brought medicine to the littlest\nwarrior and snatched two others from the river. Also, you have taught\nme that, with but little more work and courage, a man may care for a\nwhole village as easily as for his own family.\u201d\n\nHe drew back the flap of caribou skin that covered the doorway of the\nlodge, and held a torch high with the other hand, so as to cast the\nlight within.\n\n\u201cEnter with me, brother. I would speak on a private matter,\u201d said\nWise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\nBrother! The chief\u2019s heart swelled at the word. The greatest man in\nthe country, perhaps in the whole, wide world, the good magician,\nthe master of men and magic, called him brother. Ah, he could scarce\nbelieve that such honour had come to him.\n\nWithin the lodge, the visitor laid his hand on the chief\u2019s arm and\nsmiled kindly with his wonderful eyes.\n\n\u201cYou have done well, Run-all-day,\u201d he said. \u201cI would trust you far,\nfor no foolish pride has come to you with new power, and your honesty\nremains undimmed. The same cannot be said of many warriors of this\nisland, for evil counsellors are ever at work.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe woman, Red Willow, is cleverer than I, and gives me light on many\nquestions,\u201d replied the chief, modestly.\n\nThe other smiled and nodded his head. He had suspected as much, knowing\nthat the woman possessed a keener mind than her husband, and he liked\nhim the better for telling it. But, in a moment, his face was grave\nagain.\n\n\u201cI have come to you on an important errand,\u201d he said. \u201cI want you and\nRed Willow to promise to give me the littlest warrior.\u201d\n\nThe chief\u2019s breath caught in his throat and it seemed that his heart\nstood still, for he loved each of his children as if it were the\nonly one. A low cry escaped him, and he stared at the magician with a\nflicker of fear in his wide eyes.\n\n\u201cIs it too great a sacrifice to make for the good of the world, and for\nyour friend?\u201d asked the other, sadly.\n\n\u201cBut he is so little,\u201d cried Run-all-day. \u201cI do not understand. What\nhave I done to displease you, chief?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have pleased me in everything,\u201d replied the magician. \u201cHad you\nnot pleased me so well, I would not ask you for the child. A time of\nwarfare and disturbance, open and hidden, is coming. I have read the\nfuture, and I know. True, I could not see clearly, but I saw far. For a\nfew seasons there shall be quiet, a seeming quiet, then the smouldering\nof the evil fires, in a score of places at first, and suddenly in an\nhundred places. Then my enemies--our enemies--will gather, and the\nflames of hate and lust will burst forth. The powers of the warrior and\nthe powers of magic will struggle on both sides, many magicians on the\none side and I alone on the other, and many warriors against a few.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what of the child?\u201d asked Run-all-day, presently, in a voice low\nwith awe.\n\n\u201cHe is of honest and courageous parents,\u201d replied the other. \u201cI would\nteach him what I know, so that when the struggle is upon us, we shall\nbe doubly strong. I would take him to my lodge, where he would learn\nthe great secrets, day by day, growing up with a knowledge of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd shall he have no playtime?\u201d asked the bewildered father.\n\n\u201cHis very lessons will be play for him,\u201d replied the magician, \u201cand he\nwill be safe and happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut would it not be better to wait until he is a few years older?\u201d\nasked Run-all-day. \u201cThis is but his second summer. Surely he is too\nlittle to learn the wonders of magic.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt cannot be later,\u201d replied the other. \u201cI must take him into my care\nnow, before he has learned to speak a word, or never at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will fret for his mother,\u201d said the chief.\n\n\u201cNay, for he will remember nothing,\u201d said the magician. \u201cHe will not\nknow that he ever lived elsewhere than in my magic house, until he is\ngrown to boyhood. He will be nourished and protected as if he were my\nown son. And you may come to him as often as you desire, and he will\nknow you for his father; but when you are gone again he will not fret\nfor you, for there is no such thing as heart-ache in my house. Also,\nhis mother may visit him, but only twice in a season. When he is large\nand wise enough to do the great work for which I would fit him, then\nshall he be free as I am, to go and come at his pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is wonderful,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cHe would be safe and happy, and\ngreat; but what will Red Willow say about it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall take her to the lodge to-night, and show her the littlest\nwarrior\u2019s play-room,\u201d replied Wise-as-a-she-wolf. \u201cAnd then, when she\nis there, I shall tell her; then it will be easy for her to understand.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow will you take her to the magic lodge?\u201d asked the chief.\n\n\u201cYou will carry her,\u201d replied Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nTHE LITTLEST WARRIOR\u2019S GREAT PROSPECTS\n\n\nRed Willow was slim as a girl, and so her weight was but an\ninconsiderable matter to the arms of the chief. Also, the red feathers\nseemed to increase the strength of his body as well as give him the\npower of flight. The magician, with the moccasins of the wind on his\nfeet, ran ahead along the still tides of the air. The chief followed\nclose, bearing his sleeping wife in his arms. Far behind the village\nlay wrapped in slumber, dreaming of cod-fishing, most likely.\n\nThe night was mild, and the flight not far as birds and magicians\nfly. They alit in the pine forest; and Wise-as-a-she-wolf immediately\ntouched the chief\u2019s eyes with his fingers. Then, to the bewildered\nvision of Run-all-day, a great mass of builded walls loomed from the\nblackness of the forest, and from it flowed a light that was as sunrise\nand red evening and moonshine, all in one.\n\n\u201cHold her gently,\u201d whispered the magician, \u201cand follow me close. We\nshall awake her within, where no sudden fear, nor tremor of strangeness\nshall touch her.\u201d\n\nThey walked forward, for a few paces, and a great door swung open in\nfront of them. The chief stepped across the shining threshold, on the\nheels of his master, without a twinge of distrust or fear; and once\ninside, he uttered a cry of wonder and delight. At that glad sound, Red\nWillow awoke, slipped her feet to the floor and gazed about her with\njoy in her face. The Pictures of Life marched and glowed on the walls;\nthe smokeless lamps burned softly, here and there; and above spread the\nmimic sky, with silver stars a-twinkle.\n\nBut \u2019twas not alone the beauty of the place that gladdened the hearts\nof Run-all-day and Red Willow. Joy and peace were in the air, as\nwell as wonder and delight. Here could be no dread of sickness or\nsharp foreboding of death; here no thought of hunger, or weariness,\nor heart-ache; here could lurk no anger; here could arise no\nunfriendliness or despair.\n\n\u201cI could sit before these pictures for an hundred years,\u201d said the\nchief. \u201cSurely, though I behold drawings of men and things that I have\nseen, they are more true and wonderful than life. Or are they so bright\nand clear that they pierce the dimness of my eyes and spirit? Here\nare the warriors fighting; and though I have seen battles, and spears\nthrown in anger, never have I seen clearly enough to so behold the good\nin one man\u2019s face and the evil in another\u2019s. And surely the honest\nwarriors are about to win a victory. My heart leaps to help them; my\nhand is ready for the neck of that great fellow with the evil face.\nOh, chief, you have wrought marvellously! Never before have I seen so\nclearly the difference between the good and the wicked among mankind.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue, true,\u201d cried Red Willow. \u201cAnd see, here are a pair of lovers,\nbeside a little river. How beautiful a thing it is--this love--and\nhow bright it shines in their eyes. And here is an old man mending a\nsnow-shoe, and even that is beautiful.\u201d\n\nThe magician smiled. \u201cIf the old man\u2019s face were not a good face, if\nhis eyes were sly and his expression cruel, there would be no beauty in\nthe picture. So these pictures are like the life of the world; but in\nthe battles I have turned most of the evil faces aside. For the picture\nis clearer than the real battle, for it is compassed in a glance of\nthe eye. A fight in an honest cause is a noble and courageous thing;\nbut to picture it one must pass over much of the lust and pain, or the\nsight of it would chill the heart of the bravest warrior.\u201d\n\nThe good magician gave them food to eat and a bright liquor to drink,\nand the tastes of these were pleasant and strange to their tongues.\nThen he told Red Willow of what he had dimly seen of the future and of\nhis wishes concerning her baby, even as he had told these things, a few\nhours before, to the chief.\n\n\u201cHe will be happy, I know, in this beautiful place,\u201d she said; \u201cbut how\ncan I live without him, great chief?\u201d\n\nHe talked long with the father and mother, gently and kindly,\nexplaining the great reward that would be theirs, for giving the infant\ninto his care for a few seasons. They knew he would be safe and happy;\nand that virtue and wisdom would be taught to him, and knowledge of\nmagic that would make him strong to save his people from destruction.\n\nThe three returned to the village before dawn. They carried with them\nsome of the wonderful liquor from the magic house, that Red Willow\nmight feed it to the baby, to ascertain whether or no it would agree\nwith him. Wise-as-a-she-wolf had smiled at this precaution, but kindly;\nand he had made no objection. He remained in the village for seven\ndays, always gentle and helpful and friendly. He worked no deeds of\nmagic and, in outward seeming, was but a modest young man of small\nstature; and yet he won the hearts of the whole village, even of old\nBlowing Fog, and the unfaltering trust of Red Willow. And the littlest\nwarrior thrived on the magic drink.\n\nOn the seventh night, when all was quiet in the village and the great\nfire was banked deep with its ashes, the three again set out for the\nlodge in the pine forest; and this time, Wise-as-a-she-wolf carried the\nlittlest warrior in his arms. The baby slept soundly in that firm and\ngentle embrace, soaring over hill and river and barren, forest and lake\nas secure as if he lay on the couch of skins in his father\u2019s lodge.\nAgain the chief ran hard on the magician\u2019s heels, with Red Willow in\nhis arms. The house of delight was reached without mishap, and again\nthe wooden door swung open and let them in. The smokeless lamps still\nburned; hunters and lovers and warriors still marched and shone on the\nwalls and in the wide roof the stars continued to glint like splinters\nof ice. And again the joy of the place lifted the hearts of the parents\nand gave them courage.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf placed the baby in its mother\u2019s arms, gazed down on\nit with infinite tenderness in his eyes, and softly took it back to his\nown embrace.\n\n\u201cIf I should awake him from his sleep, at this unaccustomed time?\u201d he\nasked, looking at the mother with a boyish smile.\n\n\u201cHe would cry lustily,\u201d replied Red Willow. \u201cOh, chief, it would take\nme many minutes to quiet him.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, of what profit is the wisdom I have learned in all my long life,\nif I cannot shield one little baby from the grief of the night-time?\u201d\nreplied the other.\n\n\u201cMagic and wisdom! Ah, the littlest warrior has not yet learned their\npower, chief,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cHe would surely lift his voice in\nprotest if the very gods awakened him at this hour.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d replied the magician, \u201cI think you are wrong. The night-cry of\nan infant is a cry of dread for the dark hours and the vague fears of\ndanger that lurk about the black places of the world. He feels, when\nonly half-awake, the insecurity of his little life, and cries out for\nthe protection of his parents.\u201d He touched the child\u2019s face with his\nfinger, shook him gently, and at last disturbed the sweet slumber. And\nthe baby opened its round eyes, stared up at the face above it, and\nlaughed.\n\n\u201cBehold,\u201d cried the magician. \u201cAm I not a nurse to be trusted?\u201d\n\nStill carrying the baby, he led the way to the far end of the lodge.\nHere was a small apartment, dimly lit and hung about with curtains of\nleather dyed in many soft and beautiful colours. He laid the child\ngently in a little bed of soft stuffs that were of neither fur nor\ndressed hide. It stood beside a couch on which was spread the white\nwolf-skin, that had once belonged to Bright Robe. The three bent above\nit, listening to the soft breathing of the littlest warrior.\n\n\u201cHe sleeps safe,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf. \u201cHe has no fear of the\nnight-time, now.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nFURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE LITTLE BROWN OWL\n\n\nNow what of the little brown owl? We last heard of him, foiled in his\nsneaking enterprise against Whispering Grass, escaping from the fox\nwith the most desperate and painful efforts. For the whole of the\nfollowing day he remained hidden among the branches of the little\ntree; and by nightfall he was able to fly again, though slowly and not\nwithout pain. He found hunting a difficult matter for days after the\nblow from the old woman\u2019s arrow, so stiff and sore were his muscles;\nbut a worse matter than this was the enmity of the big lynx, whom\nhe had enticed to the store-house of the herb-doctor. For the lynx,\nhaving found a roof of strong poles where he had been told to expect\nnothing but bark, and having received a painful wound in the side from\na flint-headed arrow, now proclaimed the treachery of the little brown\nowl to every bird and beast of that part of the wilderness.\n\nSo the owl that had once been Bright Robe, that great and evil\nmagician, lived in fear of his life, in the very country over which he\nhad so often cast the shadow of his evil deeds. None feared him now\nsave the smallest creatures of the wood; and even they found him to be\nthe least dangerous of all the birds of prey. To hide his identity as\nthat particular owl so widely condemned by the lynx, he was compelled\nto cease his efforts against Whispering Grass and refrain entirely from\ntelling the story of his great past to the forest creatures. For the\nword had gone abroad that the _small, brown owl that says it is a great\nmagician, and has no modesty of speech, has been proved a traitor by\nNo-Tail, the lynx, whom it led into a dangerous trap_. _So beware of\nthe owl that talks overmuch, and lies more than is usual even among\nsuch birds. Kill him, if you can, for the credit of the forest._\n\nWith every claw, and tooth, and beak in the country ready to rend\nhim, \u2019tis small wonder that the little owl was utterly discouraged.\nIt was not safe for him even to exchange a word with another owl, so\nbitter against him were the birds of his kind for the discredit he\nhad brought upon them. Their reputation for wordiness and untruth\nwas so bad already that they lusted for the blood of the stranger who\nhad made it worse. But, for several days, he escaped the anger of the\ncreatures around him by keeping out of their sight. One twilight-time,\nhowever, he was attacked suddenly by an owl of his own size; and, for\nall the fierce heart in his body, he was knocked about disgracefully.\nHe sought safety in flight, at the first opportunity, and travelled\nmany miles, at his best speed, before his antagonist gave up the chase.\nHe pitched into the top of a bushy tree, to recover his breath and his\nwits. In his cowardly heart he vowed that every bird and beast within\nten miles of that mountain should be slain when he recovered his power.\nHe continued his flight, heading southward, and at last had out-flown\nthe lynx\u2019s story; and he found a splendid hunting-ground, and fairly\nstuffed himself with mice. His evil little brain began to plot and\nplan again, now that he had the comfortable sensation of food inside\nhim. He remembered people who had been his followers, men after his\nown heart, scattered about the country. They had often been his tools\nin past troubles; why should they not serve him again as instruments\nof destruction and revenge? And now the need of them was greater than\never, for he realized how impotent he was, in his miserable owl-body.\n\nThese men whom the enchanted magician remembered, were all small\nworkers of magic, sly, greedy folk without courage or principles, and\nwith but sufficient knowledge of the secret science to enable them to\ndestroy their simpler fellows and pass as great warriors. They could\nincrease, by a little, the strength and deadliness of weapons; blind a\nman\u2019s vision, for a short time, by the flashing of bright stones and\nmumbling of words, and many such pretty tricks as these. But they were\nall evil, in various degrees, and looked upon Bright Robe as their\nmaster.\n\nThe strongest of these, the one most advanced in magic, wickedness, and\nwealth, was Fang. Fang lived in a big village in the south, and was\nsecond in power to the chief. The chief was an honest man, ignorant\nof any hidden arts, but a wise and a mighty warrior. Bright Robe,\nthe little owl, knew that Fang had been plotting that good chief\u2019s\ndestruction for many years. Why should he not join in the wickedness?\nIt would be a beginning, and quite amusing, much more amusing than\nbeing beaten and chased by owls. He would whisper cunning advice into\nFang\u2019s ears, and encourage him with his mighty presence, and there\nwould soon be one honest man the less in the world; and that meant one\nenemy the less.\n\nThe little brown owl spent several days in finding the village in\nwhich lived his old friend Fang; and when he came to it, at last, and\nperched on a near-by tree, he was surprised to find all the inhabitants\nclustered together, every man talking at the top of his voice and no\nman listening. He saw Red Eye, Fang\u2019s brother, in the middle of the\ncrowd; but Fang and the chief, and the chief\u2019s son were not there. He\nlistened to the angry voices and soon learned that the people were\ntrying to divide the chief\u2019s and Fang\u2019s properties among them,--the\nlodges and furs, the wampum and weapons and stores of food.\n\nAh, so the chief had already been settled with. And Fang, too, it\nwould seem. But what of Jumping Wolf, that upright young warrior who\nhad never shown fear or respect? But the matter in hand drove these\nquestions out of his mind, for the time. He listened to Red Eye, whose\nvoice outshrieked all the others.\n\n\u201cMy brother\u2019s goods are now mine,\u201d screamed Red Eye, \u201cand as the\nchief\u2019s goods became Fang\u2019s when he struck the blow, so did they pass\nto me when he was killed.\u201d\n\nThe air was filled with shouts of rage and derision. Hands (most of\nthem containing clubs and knives) were brandished on all sides.\n\n\u201cWe chased the young man, and were wounded by his arrows,\u201d cried a\nwarrior at the edge of the crowd. \u201cAre we to have nothing for our blood\nand weariness?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhile you sat at home,\u201d bawled another.\n\n\u201cWe feared Fang, for we thought him full of magic power, and yet\nJumping Wolf killed him with one blow,\u201d cried a third.\n\nThen they all surged about Red Eye, shouting like mad men.\n\n\u201cNo one fears you,\u201d they roared. \u201cThe old chief used to treat you like\ndirt under his moccasins.\u201d\n\nNow the little owl saw that Red Eye was inwardly quaking. All his false\ncourage was quenched by the angry faces, as a little fire is quenched\nby a dash of water.\n\n\u201cShare the goods as you will,\u201d he cried, \u201cfor I am weary of such\ningratitude;\u201d and with that, he made his way quickly from the crowd\nand entered a lodge. Jeering shouts were hurled after him; even the\nwomen were not silent in their scorn, and children capered after him\nwith impertinent whoops and gestures.\n\nThe owl did not like the state of affairs in the village at all. Fang\nhad been an apt pupil, and a sure man in an evil enterprise. And\nbehold! he was now less than a shadow among his people. Listen! They\nreviled his name even while they fought over the division of his goods.\nOne warrior, snatching a skin of pemmican from the store-house of the\ndeparted Fang, proclaimed his satisfaction at Jumping Wolf\u2019s escape.\nThe sentiment was favourably received, and repeated on all sides.\n\n\u201cTruly, he did us a good turn,\u201d cried one, \u201cwhen he broke Fang\u2019s skull\nwith his club; for Fang would have been a cruel master, for all his\nfine promises. Now we are free and rich, with two fortunes to share\namong us. Ah, I am glad that we did not catch the boy while Fang\u2019s evil\nspell was on our hearts and brains.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he did but avenge the old chief\u2019s death,\u201d said another.\n\n\u201cYou are full of fair words now,\u201d cried an old hag; \u201cbut you hunted him\nout, with clubs and spears. I know the breed; and I think that cub may\nreturn, to strike another blow at the murderers of the old wolf.\u201d\n\nMen and women ceased their wrangling and looked at the old woman who\nhad spoken, with various emotions depicted on their faces. Some looked\nashamed, some afraid, some angry; but all showed uneasiness.\n\nA young woman with a child in her arms laughed shrilly.\n\n\u201cYou are for ever trying to frighten us,\u201d she cried.\n\n\u201cJumping Wolf is a warrior,\u201d said the old woman, gazing fixedly at\none of the men. \u201cHe and the chief were the only warriors in this\nvillage,--two warriors among a crowd of cowards and traitors.\u201d\n\nHer voice became higher and shriller. \u201cYou listened to Fang, and\nthought him a great magician; and you watched him slay your chief with\nhis hidden knife. But, ah! In a second Fang, too, lay dead. Then you\nhunted the lad; and he turned you back. Again your picked men went on\nhis trail; and again he outwitted you. You saw him taken from the pan\nof ice, alive, by a strong man and a young girl, in a canoe that was\nnot like your canoes. Then sleep light, oh, warriors, for Jumping Wolf\nhas you in his mind. Sleep light, with your spears and your clubs at\nyour side, for you may taste the heat of his arrows again.\u201d\n\nIt was quite evident to the owl that the old woman\u2019s remarks struck\nhome. Some men scowled; some shook their fists at her; and one\ncommanded her to keep silent. She laughed, long and harshly.\n\n\u201cYou should thank me for the warning,\u201d she cried. \u201cIf you but heed it,\nit may save you your lives. I warned Fang, for he was my daughter\u2019s\nchild, against the evil temptings of that blustering Bright Robe; but\nhis heart was wicked and greedy. And now he is dead. So I warn you to\nchoose an honest chief, though you should have to make a three-days\u2019\njourney to find one. I warn you to deafen your ears against the wiles\nof the treacherous Bright Robe, for he is less dangerous as an enemy\nthan as a seeming friend. And, again, I warn you against the son of the\nchief whom you murdered.\u201d\n\nThe people were now thoroughly frightened by the woman\u2019s free and\ndisrespectful use of the name of Bright Robe. They gazed fearfully\nabout them, as if expecting that awful magician to leap upon\nthem from the woods or the sky. He had visited them several times\nduring the period between his return from exile and his fight with\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, and of that fight, and its result, they knew\nnothing. The children gazed around also, but with curiosity rather\nthan fear, for they did not understand the gravity of the situation.\nAnd in so doing, a small boy with a bow in his hand espied the owl in\nthe tree. With a cry of delight, he fitted an arrow to the string and\nlet fly. The shaft rattled among the branches within a few inches of\nthe bird\u2019s head; and the villagers, looking in that direction, saw\nsomething like a tiny shadow drift away into the forest.\n\nThe owl was furious at what he had heard from the old woman. It seemed\nthat every old woman was his enemy. If she continued to preach in that\nvein, and with Fang dead, the entire village would be lost to him in\nbut a short time.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nA BRIEF RETURN TO POWER\n\n\nThe little brown owl waited in the woods, near the village, until close\nupon midnight. All was quiet when he at last flew to the lodge to which\nhe had seen Red Eye retire, hours before. He perched on the peak of the\nlodge, and, cocking his head, brought one yellow eye to bear on the\ndark interior. Pitch black though it was, he could see dimly.\n\n\u201cRed Eye,\u201d he called, guardedly. The words were man-words, but the\nvoice was thin and rasping. He heard a sound of stealthy movements\nbelow, within the lodge. Then a voice whispered, \u201cWho speaks my name?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is Bright Robe,\u201d replied the owl, still in his owlish voice. But he\ncould not remedy the tone of his voice, no matter how he tried.\n\n\u201cNay, \u2019tis not the voice of Bright Robe,\u201d returned the man in the lodge.\n\n\u201cI have changed my voice and also my form,\u201d said the owl, with\nwonderful patience for him. \u201cI am sitting here on the peak of your\nlodge, waiting to be let in. I am not used to waiting. Listen, and you\nwill not doubt that I am Bright Robe.\u201d And he whispered some facts\nconcerning the past life of Red Eye and of his dead brother, Fang.\n\nRed Eye immediately untied the opening of his wigwam, and the owl\nfloated from his perch and drifted inside with a soft murmur of wings.\nRed Eye closed and fastened the doorway again and then welcomed his\nvisitor with much humility and many great names. He could see nothing\nbut the yellow eyes in the darkness.\n\n\u201cI know all that has happened in the village,\u201d said the owl, making\ngood use of his wits and of what he had heard before the boy fired the\narrow at him. \u201cI have but just arrived, from the frozen ends of the\nworld,\u201d he lied, \u201cand I want food. Give me some raw meat.\u201d\n\nRed Eye had the carcass of a hare in the lodge, already skinned, and\nthis he placed on a dish of bark and held toward the yellow eyes,\nmuttering apologies all the while for the unfortunate state of his\nlarder. He explained that his fellow-villagers had threatened him so,\nthat very day, that he was afraid to leave his lodge.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cRED EYE UNTIED THE OPENING OF HIS WIGWAM, AND THE OWL\nFLOATED FROM HIS PERCH.\u201d]\n\n\u201cYou need not tell me about it,\u201d lied the owl, \u201cfor I know as much as\nyou do of the matter, though I was an hundred miles away, at the time.\u201d\n\nThen he fell upon the raw carcass, holding it with his claws and\ntearing with his beak. Red Eye trembled at the sound of the awful\nfeeding.\n\nAt last, when he had eaten his fill, the owl spoke again. \u201cFang is\ndead,\u201d he said. \u201cHe struck too soon. I told him to wait until I came\nagain.\u201d\n\nThere was not a grain of truth in this statement; but Red Eye believed\nit.\n\n\u201cHe thought himself strong enough to overthrow the chief, without my\nhelp,\u201d continued the owl. \u201cAnd now? Well, you know what came of it. Let\nit be a lesson to you, Red Eye.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hear you, chief,\u201d whined the brother of Fang.\n\nThe owl snapped his upper and lower bills together, for the flavour of\nthe meal was still with him. He blinked his yellow eyes and stared at\nthe man more fiercely and roundly than ever. He could see quite well\nnow; but the man could see nothing but the yellow eyes.\n\n\u201cI have been on a long journey,\u201d said the owl, \u201ceven to the land which\nlies beyond the last mountain of ice. I travelled with the moccasins\nof the wind on my feet. Wise-as-a-she-wolf had possession of those\nwonderful moccasins; but I met that weakling in battle, not long ago,\nand took them away from him. Also, I turned him into a mouse.\u201d\n\nWas there ever such a teller of false tales as the little brown owl?\nAnd yet Red Eye believed every word he said, for he was stupid as well\nas evil. He bowed his head before the yellow eyes and chanted, low in\nhis throat, a song of praise. The owl listened with pleasure, for it\nwas a long time since he had heard anything of the kind addressed to\nhim.\n\n\u201cI talked with my friends, the gods,\u201d he continued, presently, \u201cand\nthey were glad of my victory over Wise-as-a-she-wolf. They told me to\ngo about quietly, in the form and manner of an owl, and take note of\nsuch as are my friends and still more particularly of such as are my\nenemies. And in three moons\u2019 times, I openly proclaim myself master of\nthis whole island, my enemies shall fall, to the last man, and to the\nlast old woman.\u201d\n\n\u201cHah,\u201d gasped Red Eye. \u201cYou mean Hot Tongue, great chief?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Hot Tongue, among many,\u201d replied the owl. He supposed that Hot\nTongue was the old woman whom he had in his mind, at the moment,--the\nold woman who had spoken so freely of him, that day,--but, however that\nmight be, he must appear to be quite certain of everything.\n\n\u201cThose who prove themselves my friends shall have villages under them,\nand great stores of furs and food and wampum,\u201d he said.\n\nBy this time Red Eye was prostrate on the floor of the lodge.\n\n\u201cI have always been faithful to you, great chief,\u201d he cried. The owl\nsnapped his beak again. He was sure of Red Eye\u2019s stupidity, at any rate.\n\n\u201cWhatever you have been in the past,\u201d he said, \u201cI want you to prove\nyour devotion now. This lodge suits me well. You may move into another.\nAnd in the morning you may bring me food and water, and later, the\nwarriors of the village. I wish to speak with them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear that no other lodge will receive me, great chief,\u201d whined Red\nEye. \u201cShould I stir from here to-night, \u2019twould be at peril of my life,\nfor the hearts of the warriors are turned against me without cause.\u201d\n\nThe owl was angry at the fellow\u2019s disobedience; but he realized that\nit would not be politic for him to show his anger. He was only an owl,\nafter all, and a very small one at that. Suppose he again ordered Red\nEye from the lodge, and Red Eye, for fear of the villagers, again\nrefused to obey? He had no power of magic, as he had no power of body,\nto enforce the command. He would simply have to flutter, and snap his\nbeak, and even the dull-witted Red Eye would wonder at that. No, he\nmust be magnanimous.\n\n\u201cNay, I did not mean to turn you from your lodge to-night, good\nfriend,\u201d said the owl, in a voice that sounded like the utterance of\nneither man nor bird in its attempt at soft and gentle tones. \u201cSleep\nhere, faithful Red Eye, here on your own couch. In the morning, after I\nhave spoken to these hot-headed warriors, you may take up your abode in\nFang\u2019s lodge and I shall inhabit that of the dead chief.\u201d\n\nRed Eye grovelled in his gratitude, and stammered many words of thanks\nand praise; and at the end of it all he added, artlessly, \u201cNever before\ndid I hear of such a thing, great chief, of such a thing as Bright\nRobe\u2019s mercy.\u201d\n\nThe owl had to close his eyes, for a few seconds, fearing that the hate\nand rage within him might flash visibly in those yellow orbs. Oh,\nfor but a shade of his old power! Oh, for but the strength of a man,\nand the spirit of that blundering, grovelling Red Eye should soon be\nfooting the dark trail.\n\n\u201cPeace,\u201d exclaimed the owl, in a voice that trembled. \u201cDo not put my\nmercy to any further test. Go to your couch, and sleep.\u201d\n\nRed Eye awoke at a very early hour in the morning, and began to wonder\nwhat strange dream had possessed him in the night. Fragments of it\nshook about in his poor skull.\n\n\u201cSomething about an owl,\u201d he muttered. \u201cSomething about a miserable\nlittle owl, and I thought it was Bright Robe, the wicked one. Ho, ho,\nwhat a foolish dream. And I fed it with--with--\u201d but his soliloquy\nended in a gasping cry. From the shadows beyond the foot of his couch\nglared two yellow eyes, full upon him.\n\n\u201cSilence, crack-brain,\u201d snapped the owl, \u201cand bring me some good fresh\nmeat. Bring me the best in the village, fellow, or I will turn you into\na mouse and devour you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought it was a dream, great chief. I thought it was only a dream,\noh master of magicians,\u201d babbled Red Eye.\n\nThe owl ruffled his feathers, fluttered his wings, and snapped his\nbeak; and Red Eye, taking the hint, tore open the flap that covered the\ndoorway and fled from the lodge. He was instantly captured by two or\nthree of his fellow-villagers, and handled none too gently.\n\n\u201cNo more of your nonsense, Red Eye,\u201d cried one. \u201cWe\u2019ve divided the\ngoods, and set aside a share for you, and if you raise any more\ndisturbances we\u2019ll break your empty skull.\u201d\n\nThey shook him violently, and jerked him this way and that between\nthem, as if he were an article of value which each was eager to\npossess, until he bawled for mercy. At that, they redoubled their\nefforts.\n\n\u201cWe heard enough from you, yesterday,\u201d they cried; and the louder\nhe howled against their treatment the more lustily did they knock\nhim about, informing him all the while that he was no longer of any\nimportance in their estimation.\n\n\u201cMy lodge! My lodge! Bright Robe is in my lodge,\u201d yelled Red Eye, at\nlast. The voicing of this information proved a fortunate move for him.\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean, you punk-head?\u201d cried the tormentors, pulling and\nhauling at him with less vigour.\n\n\u201cHe is there--the great magician,\u201d gasped Red Eye. \u201cHe came last night\nin the form of an owl.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ve been dreaming, feather-wit,\u201d said one of the warriors, shaking\nhim back and forth as if in hopes of curing his mental infirmities.\n\n\u201cLook for yourselves,\u201d groaned Red Eye. \u201cHe wants meat. He wants the\nbest meat in the village, and raw, at that.\u201d\n\nThey released him and dashed for the lodge. They crowded and jostled\none another in the entrance, each eager to have first look at whatever\nhad put that crazy idea in Red Eye\u2019s head. Sure enough, there perched\na little brown owl on a heap of Red Eye\u2019s spears. They stared,\nopen-mouthed, at the bird, amazed to find even this much of Red Eye\u2019s\nstory to be true.\n\n\u201cWhen you have done with looking at me,\u201d said the owl, in a horrible,\nrusty voice, \u201cgo and get me some fresh meat.\u201d\n\nIn their efforts to escape from the baleful glare of those yellow eyes,\nthey trod on each other\u2019s toes, tripped and sprawled and very nearly\noverturned the lodge. But they got away at last and dashed toward Red\nEye, whom they saw approaching with a slice of raw caribou meat and\na vessel of water. Strong Hunter, one of the flying group, knew that\nthe meat must have been cut from the carcass of an animal which he had\nkilled on the previous day; but he did not give it a thought. He halted\nin front of Red Eye, and the others gathered around. They were joined\nby a dozen more of the villagers, old Hot Tongue among them.\n\n\u201cWhat is it? Who is it?\u201d gasped Strong Hunter. \u201cHe spoke to us--he, the\nlittle owl--and his eyes were enough to crack one\u2019s bones.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is as I have already told you,\u201d said Red Eye, with an assumption of\ndignity. \u201cHe is Bright Robe. He came to my lodge, last night, of all\nthe fine lodges in the village. He talked with me of many things. Stand\naside now, I carry food and drink to the great magician.\u201d\n\nAll except Hot Tongue were deeply impressed. Red Eye strode on, and\njust as he was about to enter the lodge the old woman cried after him,\n\u201cThere is a dead beaver, ten days dead, down by the river. Would not\nyour master like a piece of that; he seems such a dainty feeder?\u201d\n\nRed Eye stepped from sight, and the warriors and women and old men\nturned upon Hot Tongue and vented their wrath loudly and violently.\nThey wanted to be heard by the inmate of the lodge, for they knew that\nhe was a magician of some sort. No true owl ever talked the human\nlanguage, or had such terrifying eyes. They shouted at Hot Tongue,\ncalling her wicked, and rash, and many other things. And Hot Tongue\u2019s\nspirit was shaken, not by the anger of the people (for she knew what\nthat was worth), but by her own words. She had seen magicians and their\nworkings, and feared them. Cursing her foolish tongue, she turned and\nran into the forest.\n\nWhen the little brown owl had eaten the caribou meat, and dipped his\nbeak into the vessel of water a few times, and cleaned the feathers\nof his breast, he told Red Eye to bring three of the chief men of the\nvillage into the lodge. So Red Eye went out and called for the three\nchief men to come to the lodge and hear the words of the great Bright\nRobe; and the modesty of the warriors and the old men was wonderful to\nbehold.\n\nEveryone urged his own unimportance. By their own account, there\nwas not a person of any consequence in the village. Strong Hunter,\nwho had spent hours the night before in explaining his fitness for\nthe position of chief, was now entirely of another mind; and Seven\nKnives, who had then been loudest of all in denying his argument, now\nproclaimed Strong Hunter as the perfection of manhood. Strong Hunter\nprotested.\n\n\u201cI am only a poor hunter,\u201d he cried. \u201cBut you are a man of brains,\nSeven Knives, as you told us last night. The great Bright Robe would\nfind wisdom in your talk.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is foolishness,\u201d said a woman. \u201cYour talk is all turned backward\nin your mouths, for fear of the owl. Here are two old men, who have\nlived long enough to be of great importance, and are too weak to resist\nthe honour. As for a third,--why, surely Red Eye is one of our chief\nmen.\u201d\n\nThe warriors were delighted with the woman\u2019s wit, and in a moment the\ntwo poor old great-grandfathers, both deaf and more than half blind,\nwere being pushed gently toward the owl\u2019s lodge, close on the heels\nof Red Eye. Every villager,--man, woman, and child--joined in the\nprocession; but they moved cautiously, and no voice was raised save\nthat of one of the old men. He, poor ancient, having heard nothing\nof his election to a belated honour, protested shrilly against the\nindignity of being hustled through the village.\n\nThe crowd halted at a distance of about five paces from the lodge in\nwhich the bird was waiting to hold audience. Red Eye took charge of his\nfellow dignitaries, at this point, and dragged them into the lodge in\nshort order.\n\n\u201cWhat is the meaning of this?\u201d cried the owl.\n\n\u201cI have done your bidding, Mighty One,\u201d stammered Red Eye. \u201cHere are\nthe three chief men of the village, as chosen by all the people but a\nminute ago.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you are one of the leaders of the village?\u201d asked the owl.\n\n\u201cIt is even so, great chief, now that you abide in my poor lodge,\u201d\nreplied Red Eye, who had guessed the reason of his sudden rise in the\nestimation of the village, despite his dullness of wit, and yet was too\nstupid to keep it to himself.\n\n\u201cAnd why these old cripples?\u201d asked the owl.\n\n\u201cBecause of their exceeding age were they chosen, great chief; for it\nwas thought that they would be wise enough to understand your wisdom,\nhaving lived so many years,\u201d replied Red Eye.\n\n\u201cYou are too simple, Red Eye,\u201d said the owl. \u201cShake your dry brain and\nfind me another reason.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe warriors are afraid to enter this lodge,\u201d cried Red Eye, delighted\nat his penetration into the matter. \u201cYes, great chief, they are afraid,\nfor they know that they deserve no mercy. Only the innocent are without\nfear.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have a wonderful mind. I shall certainly make you chief of this\nvillage,\u201d said the owl. \u201cNow you may let these old cripples depart,\u201d he\nadded.\n\nRed Eye pushed the old men from the lodge; and off they hobbled,\nmuttering angrily. They had not seen the owl, because of their\nblindness, and they had not heard his voice, because of their deafness;\nso they were still at a loss to know what all the trouble was about.\n\n\u201cNow tell me the names of some of the most cunning and strong warriors\nin this village,\u201d said the owl.\n\n\u201cSeven Knives is a powerful man,\u201d replied Red Eye. \u201cAnd so is Strong\nHunter. Yellow Fox is also loud at the council fire, and Mighty Hand\nthinks himself as great as any.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the owl. \u201cI know them all. I have watched them, even when\nthey thought me a thousand miles away. They are not as great as\nthey appear to be; and they will be even of less importance before\nmany days. But, for a little while, we must let them think they are\ndeserving of honour, so that we may read every design in their hearts.\u201d\n\nRed Eye was deeply impressed.\n\n\u201cI am your servant, mighty magician,\u201d he replied. \u201cI live but to obey\nyour commands.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis well,\u201d said the owl. \u201cGo cautiously, and repeat nothing of what\nI say to you in private concerning the greatness to which I intend to\nraise you so soon. Now order Strong Hunter to come to me, alone. I\nwould read his very soul.\u201d\n\nRed Eye backed from the lodge, and found the people clustered outside,\neagerly waiting for him. He approached them, and pointed a finger at\nStrong Hunter.\n\n\u201cThe mighty Bright Robe has sent for you,\u201d he said.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nTHE MAKER OF CHIEFS\n\n\nWhen Strong Hunter, after a lengthy stay within the lodge, appeared\nagain among his fellows, he looked both elated and impressed and would\nanswer none of their questions. But he told them that the little brown\nowl was Bright Robe, without a doubt; also, that no chief would be\nappointed for the village until the end of two moons\u2019 time, and that\nthe magician himself would act as their chief until then. There was\nsome grumbling at that, among the warriors, but no open objection. The\nowl had told Strong Hunter the same story that he had told Red Eye, and\nhad made him the same promises of reward. Also, he had not forgotten to\ncharge him to keep those promises secret.\n\nHe had made a great deal of fun of poor Red Eye to the hunter. And he\nhad told him to have a huge fire built that night, and to tell the\nvillagers the story of his fight with Wise-as-a-she-wolf and of his\nvictory.\n\nWhen night fell, a heap of wood as high as a lodge was lit in a\ndozen places, and the whole village clustered around it. The men\nwore battle-feathers in their hair and carried their spears and\nwar-clubs, for Strong Hunter had promised them that it was to be a\ngreat occasion. As Strong Hunter began the story of the great battle\nbetween the magicians, the owl\u2019s version of it, Red Eye took his seat\nquietly among the warriors, and looked at the orator with a covert and\nsupercilious smile. He had but just come from the owl\u2019s lodge; and the\nowl had explained to him, in the most friendly manner, that the seeming\nconsideration with which he had treated Strong Hunter was but a sly\nstep toward that warrior\u2019s undoing. He had looked so wise, and sly, and\nfriendly, that Red Eye had felt quite satisfied.\n\n\u201cWe will play with the vain fellows, for the space of two moons,\u201d the\nowl had concluded.\n\nStrong Hunter stood upright and waved his arms above his head, shaking\na spear in one hand and a club in the other.\n\n\u201cThis is the story of the battle between two magicians,\u201d he cried,\n\u201cbetween Bright Robe, the master of magic, and Wise-as-a-she-wolf, the\nchild of vanity.\u201d\n\nHe pranced forward a few steps, and back again, and twirled about\non his toes. The black battle-feathers flashed in his long braid\nof tow-coloured hair. These islanders were not red men, like the\ninhabitants of the great lands to the south and west.\n\n\u201cBefore Bright Robe could strike a blow,\u201d he continued, \u201cthe other\nturned and fled, speeding like a flying brant, for the moccasins of\nthe wind were on his feet. But Bright Robe sprang after him through\nthe air, reached him and hurled him to earth. Unable to escape,\nWise-as-a-she-wolf fought with all his strength and cunning; and Bright\nRobe returned him two blows for every one received.\u201d\n\nHere Strong Hunter swung his club, smiting an imaginary foe, and thrust\nwith his spear so violently that his audience shrank away from him. He\nskipped and pranced, struck desperate attitudes, and shouted like a\nmadman.\n\n\u201cBlood flies,\u201d he continued. \u201cTrees bend, and crash to the ground. The\nhills shake and great rocks roll into the valleys. The strength of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf dwindles and his courage runs out with his blood. He\nstrikes wide. He strikes feebly. But Bright Robe feels no weariness.\nHis blows redouble their speed and weight. He beats his enemy to the\nground. He bends, takes the limp body in his hands, and hurls it over\nthe mountain-top.\u201d\n\nCeasing the narrative suddenly, Strong Hunter once more put his\nbody and limbs in motion. He staggered, and reeled, in the person\nof Wise-as-a-she-wolf. He sprang high in air, and delivered heroic\nstrokes, in the person of Bright Robe. At last he stooped to the earth,\nset his hands on an imaginary body and hurled it far over the heads of\nthe enraptured villagers. Then, drawing himself to his full height, he\nfolded his arms on his breast and stood silent and motionless.\n\nThe applause was quick and loud. Even Seven Knives and Red Eye joined\nin it. Old men, who had long since forgotten their days of prowess,\nflung their arms about as if in desperate conflict. Young men sprang\nfrom their seats and danced around the fire, brandishing their weapons.\nThe graver warriors shouted, and beat their clubs on the ground. All\nwere affected by the orator\u2019s efforts as if they had drunk deeply of\nthe strong wine of crushed and fermented berries.\n\nElated by his success, Strong Hunter went straight to the owl\u2019s lodge.\nThe bird received him with gracious words, for the roars of applause\nhad reached his ears.\n\n\u201cYou have done well,\u201d he said. \u201cI see that you are already powerful\namong the people, that my good-will toward you is already giving you\nnew power. This will be the greatest village in the land, when you are\nits chief. Go now, Strong Hunter, and send my servant Red Eye to me.\u201d\n\nStrong Hunter bowed, and left the lodge. He found Red Eye still seated\nby the fire, smiling a twisted, evil smile. Without ceremony, he\nordered him to go to the magician. Red Eye glanced up at him, with a\nglow under his lids.\n\n\u201cGo to your master,\u201d said Strong Hunter again, and still more roughly.\nRed Eye went, without a word; but there was rage in his heart. He\nwondered what had passed in the lodge, to so soon change the warrior\u2019s\nmanner with him. He vowed that Strong Hunter should be the first to\nfeel his wrath, when the village was in his power. He felt a dim\ndistrust of the magician.\n\nThe little brown owl read what was in Red Eye\u2019s mind.\n\n\u201cStrong Hunter is a conceited fellow,\u201d he said. \u201cHis vanity amuses me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt does not amuse me, great chief,\u201d replied Red Eye.\n\n\u201cYou are of too serious a nature, my friend,\u201d said the owl. \u201cBut I\nthink the bursting of that rascal\u2019s vanity will amuse even you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, mightily,\u201d cried the other. \u201cI would give ten hides to see him\nbrought low this very night. I would gladly give a beaver skin for\nevery cry of pain he would utter if I could but stick my knife into his\nbig body.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave patience,\u201d said the owl. \u201cIt is my pleasure to sit inactive for\na little while, and study the natures of these people, their hopes and\nvanities and foolish affairs. When I am tired of it, then \u2019twill be\ntime enough for you to break the pride, yea, even the neck, of Strong\nHunter.\u201d\n\nRed Eye went away from the lodge and meditated. Though he was a coward,\nhe had none of that fear which is a foretaste of remorse. Let him but\nget an enemy in his power, with no chance to strike back, and he would\nshow no mercy. Pity was a sensation unknown to him; and if he sometimes\nappeared to speak honestly, it was entirely due to his dulness of wit.\nNow he retired to an empty lodge and gave his poor mind to this matter\nof Strong Hunter\u2019s arrogance of manner. Why had Strong Hunter been\nchosen to tell the story of the battle to the villagers? Why had Strong\nHunter walked so proudly from the owl\u2019s lodge? He thought and thought\nand thought, until his head felt as if it would fly into a dozen\nfragments, so great was the effort of concentration. He saw a glimmer\nof the truth; but no, all was darkness again.\n\nSometime during the next day, the owl managed to have a secret talk\nwith Seven Knives; and to him he told the same tales, and made the same\npromises, as to Strong Hunter and Red Eye. Also, he charged him to\nsecrecy.\n\nThree days passed without incident; but on the morning of the fourth\nday Red Eye lay with an ear at the edge of the lodge while Strong\nHunter and the owl talked within. He crawled away, before Strong Hunter\nleft the lodge. An hour later, he sprang upon the big warrior, from\nbehind, struck a blow and shouted the treachery of the owl. The blow\nglanced from the great muscles of Strong Hunter\u2019s neck, but sent him\nreeling, for all that. Then Red Eye turned to flee, still shouting of\nthe owl\u2019s treachery. The wounded man staggered after him and hurled\nhis stone axe, blindly but with terrific force. It struck Red Eye on\nthe back of the skull.\n\nIn a second, the whole village was in an uproar. Red Eye lay dead on\nthe ground; but his last words were alive in men\u2019s ears. Seven Knives\nstood face to face with Strong Hunter and asked if there was truth in\nwhat Red Eye had shouted.\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis true that the owl has promised that I am to be chief of this\nvillage,\u201d replied Strong Hunter.\n\n\u201cHe promised the same to me,\u201d said Seven Knives.\n\n\u201cAnd there is another chief,\u201d said Yellow Fox, pointing at the body of\nRed Eye.\n\n\u201cI think if that little owl were really Bright Robe, he would have\nshown himself in his true form before this,\u201d said Old Hot Tongue.\n\u201cBright Robe would have killed me, for what I said about the beaver\nmeat,\u201d she added.\n\n\u201cHe is Bright Robe, and none other. He knows things that only Bright\nRobe or Wise-as-a-she-wolf could know,\u201d said Strong Hunter.\n\n\u201cThen why does he sit in the lodge all day, and eat raw flesh?\u201d asked\nan old man. \u201cBright Robe never lets a day pass without some violence or\ntheft.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is Bright Robe, for all that,\u201d said Seven Knives. \u201cAnd I think he\nis still as wicked as he ever was.\u201d\n\n\u201cI once beheld the eyes of the devil that lives deep in the salt\nwater,\u201d said Strong Hunter, \u201cand though they were green and big, they\nwere not more wicked than the eyes of that little owl.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not fear any bird that flies,\u201d said a young man, and before they\ncould lay hands upon him, he was running swiftly toward the lodge in\nwhich sat the owl.\n\n\u201cI have a good bow here, and a sharp arrow,\u201d he cried, as he ran.\n\nAt that the owl shot from the lodge and flew swiftly away across the\nriver.\n\n\u201cThere goes your mighty magician, your maker of chiefs,\u201d said the young\nman.\n\nThe villagers stared in wonder after the departing bird, and continued\nto stand and stare long after it had vanished.\n\nA few hours after the owl\u2019s hurried departure, a party of men who\nbelonged farther up the river arrived at the village. They were on\ntheir way to the southern coast of the island, to kill the seals that\ncame down on the ice through the Narrow Sea. When they had heard the\nstory of the owl, one of them told of how he had been sick early in\nthe spring, and had gone to the lodge of Old Whispering Grass, the\ndoctor, far inland near the great lake. And he told them of the fight\nbetween the magicians, as the old woman had told it to him; of Bright\nRobe\u2019s defeat and of the spell upon him which would keep him in the\nshape of a little owl until five summers were gone.\n\nThe people of the village were amazed and disgusted at the memory of\nthe fear in which they had stood of the harmless bird. \u201cBut Bright Robe\nnever forgets an injury,\u201d said one of the old men, \u201cand I hope that I\nmay have died peacefully before those five seasons are passed.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nTHE THEFT OF THE RED FEATHERS\n\n\nAll went well with the baby in the good magician\u2019s lodge. He remembered\nnothing of the world and the people that were without the magic walls;\nand yet, when Run-all-day visited him, he knew him and ran to him. His\ndays were full of quiet play and happy, childish fancies. The wonderful\npictures on the walls were his playmates; and he learned their\nmeanings, gradually but without effort. He felt no loneliness or fear,\neven when Wise-as-a-she-wolf was away from the lodge. But he was seldom\nalone, for the magician was so happy in the company of his adopted baby\nthat he forgot many of his great affairs in the world. He would lie\nawake all night, planning games, wonderful, magic games, to play with\nthe little fellow next day. And he painted some more pictures on the\nwalls, thus expanding the great lesson-book. He painted the flight of\nJumping Wolf through the wilderness, and the young warrior\u2019s rescue\nfrom the ice, all in the magic pigments that made them true as real\nearth and real water and clear as sunlight. So the baby, toddling from\npicture to picture, absorbed knowledge of men and beasts, of battles\nand the chase, of gentleness and honesty, and of the ugliness of evil.\n\nIn August, a stranger arrived at Run-all-day\u2019s village and asked to be\nallowed to remain and become a member of the new clan. He was of darker\ncomplexion than was usual among the islanders and his hair was black\nand straight. He gave his name as Spotted Seal. He said that he had\nbeen born far in the west, close to the shore of the Narrow Sea, and\nhad been a lonely warrior all his life. Run-all-day did not accept him\nat once, but allowed him to fish and hunt with the villagers, so that\nhe might prove himself a safe and worthy man. Spotted Seal soon won the\nrespect of the clansmen, in spite of his black, shifting eyes; for he\nwas a good worker and a strong man with all manner of weapons. He was a\ncunning and tireless hunter, and skilled in the management of canoes.\n\nSpotted Seal had not been an inmate of the village many days, when he\nheard some gossip of the red feathers, from old Green Bow. He showed\nno interest in the subject, indifferently mending a fishing-line while\nGreen Bow told of the wonderful power of the feathers; of how he had\nseen the chief slip them into his moccasins; of how it was rumoured\nthat Red Willow took care of them and kept them in a leathern bag,\nalong with other of her precious possessions. Spotted Seal looked\nindifferent, all the while the old man talked, but his heart was\nthumping madly. He had a slight knowledge of magic, and a great desire\nto enlarge that knowledge. He was ambitious of power; and this talk of\nthe magic feathers, which carried a man through the air like the wings\nof a hawk, filled him with a fever of covetousness. But he did not\nshow his emotions by so much as the flicker of an eyelash; and yet it\nwas for this very thing that he had come to the village. He had heard\nsomething of Run-all-day\u2019s power of flight, in a vague, roundabout way,\nand so had travelled many days to investigate the secret of the matter.\nHe had never heard of the chief of the distant village as a magician,\nand he could not believe that he was possessed of the famous moccasins\nof the wind. Now he was glad to hear that the wonder lay in two small\nfeathers and not in the chief\u2019s own person, for it would be an easier\nmatter to steal feathers from a man than wisdom out of his brain.\n\nSo Spotted Seal began to spy on the chief\u2019s lodge, creeping and\npeering about at all hours of the night. At last he was rewarded\nfor his exertions by seeing Red Willow take the feathers from the\nbag, smooth them tenderly between her fingers, and return them to\ntheir hiding-place. Then he saw her place the bag under the skins on\nRun-all-day\u2019s couch. His eager glance took note of the exact spot\nwhere she hid the bag. It was a small bag, of white leather, decorated\nwith designs worked in dyed porcupine quills. As the night was still\nyoung, he stole away and joined some other men at the fire, and calmly\nlistened to their stories and took part in their talk.\n\nIn that darkest hour before the first glimmer of dawn, Spotted Seal\ncrawled to the closed entrance of the chief\u2019s lodge, and lay, for\nnearly a minute, with his ear at the bottom of the great flap of hide.\nHe heard no sound from within, save the gentle and regular breathing of\nthe sleepers. He raised the flap a little, very cautiously, and thrust\nhis head under it. Inch by inch, and without the slightest sound, he\nwormed himself beneath the edge of the hide and into the lodge. Then\nagain he lay still for some time, listening, straining his eyes against\nthe blackness, and drawing his breath guardedly. Again he advanced,\ncrawling almost flat, with one hand held in front of him so lightly\nthat, should it touch a sleeper, it would give no shock of contact. At\nlast he felt that he was beside the couch on which lay the chief. He\ncould hear that warrior\u2019s breath, close in his ears, and he trembled.\nNow his hand touched the furs, and slipped beneath them and encountered\nthe precious bag that contained the red feathers. At that, his heart\nthumped so heavily that it deafened his ears against the sound of the\nchief\u2019s breathing. For what seemed a long time to him, he crouched,\nmotionless, beside the couch, with one hand on the bag of leather. But\nat last he gathered courage to draw it forth. He heard the chief stir\nuneasily; then lie quiet again. Some one, evidently a child, whimpered\nin its dreams. He turned and crawled back toward the entrance of the\nlodge, lifted the flap of hide again and wriggled under it and out to\nthe wider blackness of the open. After moving away from the lodge\nfor a short distance, he seated himself on a boulder, opened the bag\nand thrust his hand within. He soon discovered the red feathers among\nneedles of bone, trinkets of shell and jasper, and other such trifles.\nHe placed one in the sole of each of his moccasins, and tied them\nsecurely to his feet.\n\nSpotted Seal stood up and looked about him. The sky, the forests, and\nthe earth at his feet, were all massed in a vast blackness. A little\nstirring of wind, but newly arisen, moved around him. He shivered,\nthough the air was mild. Thought of the potent magic against the soles\nof his feet, and of the terrific flight which he had the power to take,\nup and across the blackness, shook his heart and unstrung his muscles.\nFor a moment he wished that he had not taken the feathers, and even\nthought of returning them to the chief\u2019s lodge. But no, he would not\nagain face the danger of entering that lodge and crawling about so near\nto that strong warrior. And the feathers were a great prize, surely one\nof the greatest possessions in the world. And now they were his.\n\n\u201cI am a coward,\u201d he whispered, huskily. \u201cI have run the risk of my life\nin stealing the feathers from the chief\u2019s couch, from under his body;\nand now I have not the courage to use them. It is so dark; but when\ndaylight comes I shall fly into the air like a bird.\u201d\n\nBut he knew that it would not be safe for him to wait, so near the\nvillage, for morning. The chief might awake at any moment and discover\nthe absence of the precious feathers; and if that should happen--well,\nSpotted Seal had been long enough in Run-all-day\u2019s village to learn to\nfear that big warrior\u2019s displeasure. So he turned his face from the\nquiet lodges and set out through the darkness. After having travelled\nfor more than a mile, he halted suddenly and uttered an exclamation of\ndisgust. He had come away from the village with no weapons except the\nshort flint knife in his belt. The great undertaking of stealing the\nbag from the chief\u2019s lodge had driven all thought of bow, spear, and\narrows from his mind. The day was breaking now, in a clear, colourless\nstreak along the east. Would he return to the village, and to his own\nlodge, and arm himself? The people would still be asleep, and the magic\nfeathers were on his feet. Yes, he would go back, for he had left many\ntrusty weapons in his lodge, and fish-hooks of bone, and some good\nfish-lines. Even if a man can fly like a bird, he reflected, still he\nmust hunt and fish, if he would live.\n\nSo Spotted Seal turned back toward the village, from which he had\nstolen so fearfully but a little while before. The light of day\nincreased swiftly, flooding the eastern sky with crimson and bright\ngold. Spotted Seal quickened his pace, afraid that the village might\nbe astir by the time he should reach it. Soon he was able to see\nthe lodges in front, between the ranks of the forests, the sunlight\ngleaming on their peaks. Now he advanced more cautiously, and was about\nto issue from the trees when a loud cry caused him to halt and crouch\nlike a startled animal.\n\nThe cry was from the lips of Run-all-day, who had discovered that the\nbag in which the magic feathers were kept was gone from beneath the\nskins on his couch. Next moment, he ran from his lodge, and shouted for\nthe men of the village, old and young, to gather in all haste. They\nwere before him within the minute, wondering but ready. He glanced over\nthem quickly.\n\n\u201cWhere is Spotted Seal?\u201d he asked. \u201cGo to his lodge and find him.\u201d\n\nThe warriors rushed to the lodge of the stranger, tore it open, and\nshouted that it was empty; and at the same moment Spotted Seal turned\nfrom his contemplation of the scene and started to run. But he had\nforgotten the feathers in his moccasins. The first stride lifted him\nfrom the ground and dashed him among the tree-tops. He uttered a\nloud scream of amazement and fear, which was answered angrily from\nthe village. The voices of the warriors, lifted in fierce and eager\nhunting-cries, steadied his wits. He sprang clear of the trees and\nsoared away to the southward. The people of Run-all-day\u2019s village\nbeheld him thus mount into their view and then fly swiftly beyond it;\nand they sent a howl of rage and a few harmless arrows after him.\n\nSpotted Seal felt like a man in the clutches of an awful dream, during\nthe first few minutes of his flight. The world--river, forest, and\nhill--sped backward beneath him with sickening velocity. The air\nsang in his ears, and his breath seemed beaten back against mouth\nand nostrils. The glory of the morning and the rushing air upon his\neyeballs, almost blinded him, and the fear of falling to earth was so\nstrong in him that he continued, for some time, to exert every muscle,\nlike a runner in a race.\n\nBut, in time, he slackened his pace, for very weariness, and then he\nfound that he could continue in the air with but little effort and no\ndiscomfort. He scarcely moved his feet, and yet sailed pleasantly and\nsafely above the forests. His eyes cleared and his breath came back to\nhim. He swooped gently toward the earth and swerved easily up again,\nfinding this manner of flight to be as pleasant as it was amazing. He\ncircled high; he flew this way and that; he ran across the tops of the\nforest trees, just touching them with his feet. But he continued to\nincrease the distance between himself and the village.\n\nIt was not until noon that Spotted Seal felt the gnawings of hunger,\nand realized that the knife in his belt was the only weapon in his\npossession. But now he felt no fear of starving, and cared no more for\nthe loss of his bow and arrow than if meat was to be picked from the\nground, like berries. He would hunt as hawks hunt, with the advantage\nthat no cover of brush or branches could cheat him of his quarry. So\nhe flew low, and kept a sharp watch. A covey of grouse flew up from a\nbarren and lit in a thicket of small spruces. He swooped down and beat\nthe tops of the trees with a short stick, hovering above them all the\nwhile. Out flew the grouse, in all directions; and in a moment one\nhad received a sharp blow from the stick and lay dead on the ground.\nAnother was soon killed by the same means. Then Spotted Seal chose a\nnook that suited him, lit a fire, and set to work to cook his belated\nbreakfast.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nA JOURNEY TO THE MAGIC FOREST\n\n\nRun-all-day was very much ashamed, and very angry, at the loss of the\nmagic feathers which the good Wise-as-a-she-wolf had trusted to his\ncare. So hot was his anger at first, that it clouded his wits, and he\nset out in pursuit of the thief and ran for fully six miles before he\nrealized that he might just as well chase a hawk as Spotted Seal. When\nthat thought came to him, he immediately leaned against a tree, to\nrecover his breath and plan some other means of regaining possession of\nthe red feathers. He had not filled his lungs more than a dozen times\nbefore Jumping Wolf, who had followed close on his heels, halted before\nhim. The chief eyed the youth mournfully.\n\n\u201cWe are mighty runners, lad,\u201d he said, \u201cbut only the moccasins of the\nwind can overtake the feet that are shod with the red feathers.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe flew southward,\u201d replied Jumping Wolf, \u201cand if I follow, day and\nnight, I may come upon him while he sleeps, or see him in the air and\nbring him down with an arrow. All I need is a wallet of pemmican and a\nquiver of arrows, and then I am ready for the journey. I have hit hawks\nand eagles while they flew above the tree-tops, so surely I can put an\narrow into Spotted Seal.\u201d\n\nThe chief shook his head dejectedly.\n\n\u201cLet us go home. I must ask Red Willow what is to be done,\u201d he said.\n\nSo the two swift runners returned to the village, meeting the other\nwarriors breathless and still staggering forward, scattered along the\nway. So they returned to the lodge, together, all depressed by the\nloss of the feathers and ill tempered from having run so far on empty\nstomachs.\n\nThe chief went straight to Red Willow, and confessed to her that he\ncould think of no way of recovering the precious feathers.\n\n\u201cWise-as-a-she-wolf must be told about it,\u201d said she, after a moment\u2019s\nreflection. \u201cHe will be able to get them back again; and I do not think\nhe will be angry with us when he knows how Spotted Seal crept into our\nlodge, in the night-time, and stole them.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut even if he is not angry, he will not trust me with the feathers\nagain,\u201d said the chief.\n\n\u201c\u2019Twill be better so, I believe,\u201d replied the woman, \u201cfor now that\npeople know about them, and of the great virtue they possess, they will\nbe a dangerous possession for any man save a magician.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how am I to tell him about it?\u201d asked Run-all-day. \u201c\u2019Tis a long\njourney to his lodge, and even when the journey is made a man cannot\nsee the lodge until the master charms his eyes. This is the truth, for\nhe told us so. And I cannot leave the village, for the warriors would\nsoon begin to argue about this and that, and all my good work would be\nblown away as the ashes of a dead fire are scattered by the wind.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd still must the good magician be told the whole story, or his\nenemies may use the feathers against him while he thinks them safe in\nyour keeping,\u201d said Red Willow.\n\nAt that moment Jumping Wolf looked in at the door of the lodge.\n\n\u201cHere is a messenger for you to send,\u201d said Red Willow. \u201cHe is swift\nand strong, and worthy of trust. Come in,\u201d she added, to the young\nman, \u201cand hear what the chief has to ask you.\u201d\n\nJumping Wolf entered immediately and looked at Run-all-day with eager\ninquiry in his glance.\n\n\u201cWill you go a long journey for me?\u201d asked the chief. \u201cI think it is\na three-days\u2019 journey, for one who walks, from here to the lodge of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me the road and I will go,\u201d replied the young man.\n\nSo the chief told him the way, as well as he could from the memory\nof what he had seen in his flights. He told him that the magician\u2019s\nlodge lay to the westward, beyond two large rivers and many streams, a\ngreat barren and many wooded hills. He told him of the pine wood and\nthe high mountains, and how he must search the pine wood for a little\npond and then shout that he had a message for Wise-as-a-she-wolf from\nRun-all-day.\n\n\u201cAnd the message?\u201d asked Jumping Wolf.\n\n\u201cTell him that the red feathers have been stolen from my lodge, and\ndescribe to him the face and figure of the thief,\u201d replied Run-all-day.\n\n\u201cAnd beg him to tell you of my baby. Even ask him to let you see him,\u201d\nsaid the woman.\n\nAfter supplying himself with a small bag of food, and arming himself\nwith a knife, a bow and a dozen of his best arrows, Jumping Wolf set\nout on his long journey. He was proud that he, a man from the south,\nhad been chosen, from all the warriors of the village, for the task of\nfinding the magic lodge and giving the chief\u2019s message. He had no fear\nof the hardships of the journey, for he loved adventure as duller men\nlove soft couches and the warmth of the cooking-fire. So swiftly did he\ntravel that he came to the shore of the first of the big rivers that\nlay in his path at just about the time of sunset. Heavy forests clothed\nboth banks of the stream, which was fully a mile in width. He could\nsee no smoke of fires, or any sign of human life, in any direction.\nAfter eating a little of the pemmican from his bag, he made a couch of\nspruce-branches and lay down to sleep, without building a fire.\n\nJumping Wolf slept soundly until midnight, when he was awakened by the\nnoise of something moving close beside him. He did not spring to his\nfeet, or even sit up; but he put his hand on his knife and waited, with\nevery sense on the alert. Again he heard the sounds that had awakened\nhim, and he knew that a bear was close by but moving slowly away. He\nstrained his eyes in the dim starlight, and managed, at last, to detect\nthe vague shape of the animal against the surrounding shadows. Well, a\nbear was nothing to be afraid of. Now it had ceased to move; but by the\nsounds it made it was evidently engaged in devouring something, with\nponderous relish.\n\n\u201cI wonder what the black glutton has found?\u201d muttered Jumping Wolf, at\nthe same time feeling about, with his right hand, in the moss beside\nhis couch. On finding a good-sized stone, he threw it at the disturber\nof his slumbers. It was well aimed; and the bear uttered a protesting\ngrunt and shambled into the woods. The young man listened to the sounds\nof the beast\u2019s retreat until they faded away in the distance; then he\nclosed his eyes and returned to his slumbers.\n\nWhen Jumping Wolf opened his eyes again, with the first flush of\nmorning light, he discovered that the bag of pemmican was gone from\nwhere he had placed it close beside his couch, the evening before.\nThen he remembered the visit of the bear, and sprang to his feet, and\nran to where he had seen the animal during the night. There lay the\nbag, ripped open and empty; but a few scraps of the pemmican remained,\nscattered about on the ground. At first the young man was angry and\nsomewhat dismayed. But presently he laughed aloud.\n\n\u201cIf I had known what you were eating, old glutton,\u201d he said, \u201cI would\nhave disturbed your meal with an arrow instead of with a harmless\nlittle stone. But I am glad to see that you were so polite as to leave\nme enough for my breakfast.\u201d\n\nAnd with that he stooped down, gathered the fragments of pemmican in\nhis hands, and ate them with relish; after which he slaked his thirst\nat a little spring which trickled from the mossy rocks close beside\nhim. Then he fastened his bow and quiver of arrows securely together,\ntied them high across his shoulders, and stepped down the shore and\ninto the river. The water felt chilly at first; but the sun was shining\nbrightly and the mists were quickly dispersing from the wide current.\nHe waded in, deeper and deeper at every stride, and when the water was\nhalf-way up his breast he leaned forward and struck out with hands\nand feet. The strokes of his swimming were long, slow, and powerful,\npropelling him easily and steadily across the current. Now his blood\nwas in a glow, for he was strong and young. The surface of the river\nwas bright as gold with the level rays of the sun, and the swimmer\nrejoiced in the freshness and glory of the morning. Sometimes he\nlowered his head so that the bright refreshing water might wash over it.\n\nWhen Jumping Wolf landed on the farther shore, he felt no fatigue from\nhis long swim, but began immediately to leap about, and swing his arms,\nso as to shake some of the weight of water from his leather clothing.\nHe unfastened his bow and arrows from his shoulders, returned the\nquiver to the left side of his girdle, and replaced the wet bow-string\nwith a dry one from a water-tight wallet which was attached to his\nbelt. The restringing of the bow was no more than completed when he\nheard the whistle of wings, and on looking up saw three ducks hurtling\ntoward him with outstretched necks. They saw him, and swerved to one\nside; but the bow-string twanged, an arrow swished in the air, and one\nof the ducks quacked loudly and fell into the shallow water at the edge\nof the river.\n\n\u201cHere is my dinner; and it is better than musty pemmican,\u201d said the\nyoung man, as he drew forth the arrow and fastened the dead bird to\nhis belt. Then, very well satisfied with himself, and the world in\ngeneral, he continued on the second stage of his westward journey.\n\nJumping Wolf travelled steadily until noon, then lit a fire by means of\nfriction--a laborious method of grinding one stick into another--and\nbroiled the fat duck. He was now at the edge of a great barren, a vast\nplain of rocky hummocks, mellow, berry-swarded levels and occasional\nclumps of stunted spruces.\n\nThe season of the wild harvest was over the land, the days of ripe\nberries and falling seeds, and the flocking birds. Snipe and plover\nfrom the farther north, and coveys of ptarmigan, and flocks of snow\nbirds, fed along the ground and started up on quick wings, on every\nside. The sun, wheeling high in the blue, touched that wide, treeless\nplace with a mellow enchantment that stole into the heart of Jumping\nWolf with pleasant languor--a suggestion of idleness and dreams.\nThe berry-starred moss on which he reclined was warm as a couch of\nfox-skins, and the soft bird-calls, sounding indolently from hummock\nand hollow, made music in his ears. A sweet, elusive fragrance, that\nwas the breath of the warmth and ripeness of the barren, stole into his\nbrain. Millions of red berries, millions of little, tinted leaves,\ninnumerable pockets of warm, brown loam, loosed that fragrance on\nthe air at the soft entreaty of the sun. And the warmth of the sun\npenetrated also to the very bones of the young hunter, until he lay at\nfull length on the moss and sighed with the comfort of it. His eyelids\nfluttered down. He had travelled far and swiftly, and crossed a river\nfull of chilly water; then why should he not lie here for a little\nwhile, basking in the sun, and dream a little of Singing Bird, the\ndaughter of the chief?\n\nThe temptation to rest and dream was strong; but not strong enough to\ndeaden for long Jumping Wolf\u2019s sense of duty. Had not his benefactor,\nRun-all-day, trusted him to carry an important message with all speed?\nThen how could he throw away good hours of daylight in idle dreaming?\nSo he forced himself to arise from the warm moss and harden his heart\nagainst the drowsiness of the noon.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cHE CLIMBED A HIGH TREE AT THE EDGE OF THE WOOD.\u201d]\n\nBy nightfall the youth had reached the western margin of the barren,\nand made his resting-place for the night beside a brook that ran\nthrough groves of pines and spruces. He had killed two grouse on the\nway, and had halted several times to refresh himself with handfuls\nof the tart, juicy partridge berries. Again he gathered little\nfragments of wood, dry as tinder, laboriously created the speck of red\nflame and enlarged it to a cooking-fire. He cooked both the birds, so\nthat he would not lose time in the morning in preparing his breakfast.\n\nJumping Wolf reached the great forest of pine, in which stood the\nlodge of Wise-as-a-she-wolf, early in the afternoon of the third day\nof his journey. He climbed a high tree at the edge of the wood, and\nfrom its top looked far and wide on all sides, studying the features\nof the landscape. After a short survey he felt satisfied that this was\nthe place which the chief had described to him; so, without further\nhesitation, he descended to the ground and struck into the wood in\nsearch of the pond of crystal water.\n\nThe sun had dipped below the tree-tops, and the western sky was red as\nfire, when Jumping Wolf issued from the ranks of straight pine boles\nand halted on the margin of the little lake. The oval surface of water\nwas red with the reflection of the sky, and lay there like a warrior\u2019s\nshield of painted hide. On every side towered the pines, ancient,\ngigantic, brooding above the secrets of their still hearts. They were\nrobed in dusk, and their wide branches were heavy with massed shadows;\nbut their tops were aflame with the light of the hidden sun. Jumping\nWolf breathed softly. He could hear nothing; there was no sound in all\nthat enchanted forest save the beating of his own heart. The red faded\nfrom the sky and slipped from the spires of the trees. The lake shone\nduskily, lost its glow, clouded and lay like dead ice.\n\nThen the spirit of Jumping Wolf shook itself from the spell that had\nstolen about it. He raised his head and shouted the name of the great\nmagician. The echoes rang quickly back to him, just beyond the narrow\nwater, in among the pines. The name he had cried clanged about him,\nclanged and leaped, shattering the brooding silence of the place with\na note of menace, then dropped to silence again. The young man\u2019s heart\nwas shaken. He glanced backward, over his shoulder, and his muscles\ngrew tense, as if for a great effort. But what had he to fear in the\nwood of the kind magician? His courage returned at that thought, and\nagain he lifted his voice.\n\n\u201cI am Jumping Wolf,\u201d he cried, \u201cand I bring word from Run-all-day.\u201d\n\nHis voice rang clear across the little water. But he drew back, as if\nthreatened by a blow, when the silence closed instantly over the words\nhe had shouted so bravely. There was no echo. The sound of his voice\nhad rung high, and fallen dead. And yet the place had clashed with\necho at his first cry. He trembled with a horror of something vague,\ngigantic, imminent. He would have turned and fled, dashed blindly away\nfrom this power that loosed and choked the echoes at its will, but he\nhad no strength to lift his feet from the ground.\n\nA voice spoke to him, by name, from the other side of the dark pond. It\nwas the voice of the good magician, calm and gentle, as he remembered\nhaving heard it in the village of Run-all-day.\n\n\u201cHave no fear, Jumping Wolf. My friends are safe in this forest. Bring\nme the message,\u201d said the voice.\n\nThe young man fought down the terror that still shook him, and with a\ngreat effort of will forced his craven feet to the master\u2019s bidding.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nTHE QUEST OF THE FEATHERS\n\n\nJumping Wolf stumbled around the margin of the lake, felt the touch of\na guiding hand on his arm, and saw, suddenly, the glowing windows of\nthe magic lodge. Next moment, as the thing would happen in a dream, he\nstood within the bright room, staring at the living pictures on the\nwalls and the lamps that burned so steadily and yet exhaled no smoke.\nHe uttered an exclamation of wonder, happiness. Surely he had entered\nthe lodge of the gods! Then he felt a light touch against his knee, and\nlooking down beheld Run-all-day\u2019s littlest baby smiling up at him.\n\n\u201cWhat is the message, friend, that you bring from the honest\nRun-all-day?\u201d inquired the magician, who stood close at his elbow.\n\n\u201cI had forgotten it,\u201d whispered the youth. \u201cIt seems a small matter,\na thing to snap one\u2019s fingers over, in this beautiful place,\u201d and\nstraightway his eyes began to wander along the walls again and up at\nthe starlit roof.\n\n\u201cYou have come a long journey,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf, gently.\n\nThe young man sighed and withdrew his gaze from the picture of a battle.\n\n\u201cThe red feathers are gone from the chief\u2019s lodge, O mighty one,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cThey were stolen in the night, from the robes of the chief\u2019s\ncouch, by a stranger named Spotted Seal. We gave chase to the thief,\nfor a matter of several miles, but he flew like a hawk. And Run-all-day\ncould not leave the village, so he trusted me to bring you the word,\nmighty chief.\u201d\n\nThe magician looked thoughtful, but not greatly disturbed. With Bright\nRobe reduced to harmlessness, he did not foresee any serious difficulty\nin recovering possession of the feathers.\n\n\u201cIn which direction did Spotted Seal fly?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cHe started southward, master,\u201d replied the youth.\n\n\u201cIt is well that you arrived to-night,\u201d said the magician, \u201cfor I\nintended to set out on a journey early in the morning.\u201d\n\nJumping Wolf thought of how nearly he had given himself to slumber one\nnoontime, and of how a few hours\u2019 rest then would have delayed him so\nthat he would not have reached the pine wood until after the magician\u2019s\ndeparture, and so would not have found the magic lodge at all. But he\nsaid nothing of this.\n\n\u201cYou go on a journey? Then what of the child?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cHe will be safe and happy,\u201d replied Wise-as-a-she-wolf. \u201cEverything\nthat he may require is at his hand, and he will not know that I am gone\nfrom him. But he will know well when I return, and will be glad of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can believe that readily, great chief, for I myself could spend\nan hundred years in the contemplation of these wonderful pictures,\u201d\nreplied the young man.\n\n\u201cAnd yet,\u201d said the other, thoughtfully, \u201cthis lodge was never so\nwonderful to me as it has become since I brought the baby to it. Now\nI find it hard to cross the threshold and go about my business in the\nworld.\u201d\n\nBut this was all lost upon Jumping Wolf, who was again intent on the\ncontemplation of the pictures of life. There was a girl that reminded\nhim of Singing Bird; and at last he caught sight of the newest picture,\nand beheld, with pride and wonder, himself on the sodden ice-cake, and\nthe big canoe paddled by Run-all-day, and Singing Bird in the bow,\nslim and glowing as in her living flesh. Before that picture he stood\nfascinated, forgetful of the magician and his surroundings.\n\n\u201cNowhere in the whole world is there such another as little Singing\nBird,\u201d he cried, very low, but with a quaver in his voice.\n\n\u201cAnd nowhere, north, east, south, or west, is there so great a magician\nas Youth,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf, smiling somewhat pathetically.\n\nThe other looked at him swiftly; and though he did not understand, he\nfelt a vague stirring of pity for the mighty one.\n\nEarly in the morning, the magician guided Jumping Wolf out of the\nforest of pines and faced him on his way. He gave him a store of food\nto last him three days.\n\n\u201cTell the mother that all is well with the littlest warrior,\u201d he said,\n\u201cand say to the chief that I do not hold the loss of the feathers\nagainst him; but that, with the knowledge of them abroad among the\npeople, I must keep them myself should I win them back, until such time\nas the child is ready to use them. Be guarded in your talk about this\nlodge of mine, and the way to it,\u201d he added.\n\n\u201cMay I not speak of its wonders to any one?\u201d asked the young man.\n\n\u201cYou need not sit with a silent tongue before the maid,\u201d replied\nWise-as-a-she-wolf. \u201cI have been young, also,\u201d he added, and turned\nupon the other a face as boyish as the warrior\u2019s own.\n\nThen they parted, one going southward and one eastward, and the silence\nof the wilderness fell again upon wood and barren. The magician walked\nlike any common traveller, for a mile or more, pondering deeply. His\nthoughts were not of the red feathers, but of the little child playing\nby itself in the magic house. \u201cWonderful! Wonderful!\u201d he murmured.\n\u201cHow he grows, day by day. And he loves me. My eyes require no magic\nkeenness to see that he loves me.\u201d He sat down on a mossy stone, and\nhis mind was not on his affairs as the guardian of a nation. He thought\nof the child whom he had taken into his care; and he thought how happy\na man might be, a chief of a little village, or even a fisher of cod,\nwith a woman and children in his lodge. \u201cI must not lead him too far in\nthe knowledge of hidden things,\u201d he reflected, \u201cor else, in his power,\nhe will miss the happiness that is his birthright.\u201d\n\nAt last he got to his feet. \u201cI must find those red feathers,\u201d he said.\n\u201cI must hasten in the search of Spotted Seal; and perhaps I can return\nto the littlest warrior before night.\u201d\n\nThen he hid himself in his magic and sprang into the air on the\nmoccasins of the wind.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf flew fast and far, scanning the woods and hills\nand open places beneath his feet. He flashed, invisible, southward,\neastward, and westward, and descended into many camps and villages, to\nlook closely at their unsuspecting inhabitants. But nowhere did he find\na man answering to Jumping Wolf\u2019s description of Spotted Seal. Just\nbefore the time of sunset, he turned his face toward home, and flew\nwith more eagerness than he had as yet exhibited during the day. He\nwould continue his search for Spotted Seal in the morning; but now it\nwas time for him to tell the story of one or other of the pictures to\nthe littlest warrior. He felt no great anxiety concerning the feathers.\nHe was sure to find them in a day or two, before the thief could\naccomplish much harm with them, even if he were so minded.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf spent the next day in a fruitless search for the red\nfeathers. He sought far and wide, and made inquiries for Spotted Seal\nat several widely separated villages; but all this without any success.\nIt was not until the fifth day of his search that an old fisherman, who\nlived on the coast of the Narrow Sea, told of how days before, he had\nbeen amazed to see a man running in the air, high above the salt water,\nrunning westward toward the hazy line of that distant shore.\n\nThe magician crossed the water without delay, flying unseen from under\nthe very eyes of the astonished fisherman. He descended to the ground\nand took on his visible form, near the camp of a party of Mountain\nPeople. He walked into the camp, a modest, undersized youth, and in\na second a dozen great wolf-dogs had sprung toward him, followed by\nseveral warriors. The dogs were huge beasts, more savage and fearless\nthan their brothers, the timber wolves, and as strong of jaw and limb.\nBut under the mild regard of the stranger\u2019s clear eyes, they halted\nin their rush, turned and slunk away. The warriors were also savage\nin appearance, and long of limb and hair. They were dark of skin, and\nblack of eye, like Spotted Seal. The truth is, Spotted Seal had the\nblood of these Mountain People strong in his veins; but how this thing\nhad come about is apart from our story. The warriors, more courageous\nthan the dogs, continued their advance upon the helpless-looking\nstranger.\n\n\u201cI would speak with Black Eagle,\u201d said the magician, for these people\nwere well known to him. At that they halted, eyeing him distrustfully.\n\n\u201cBlack Eagle is our chief,\u201d said one, an angular fellow, with sinister\neyes, a scar on his chin, and a spear in his hand. He seemed to be\nwatching, hungrily, for something to serve as an excuse for an attack\non the visitor.\n\n\u201cYes, he is your chief. I want to speak with him,\u201d said the stranger,\nquietly.\n\n\u201cHe is a mighty chief,\u201d said the fellow with the scar on his chin. \u201cHe\ndoes not come to every one\u2019s bidding. I will call an old woman to take\nyour message.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell him that Wise-as-a-she-wolf is waiting to talk to him,\u201d said the\nmagician.\n\nAt that name the warriors were visibly disturbed, and several of them\nslunk away in much the same manner as the dogs had done a few minutes\nbefore.\n\nBut he of the scarred chin was of tougher courage. \u201cIt is not a\ndifficult thing to mention a great name,\u201d he said, sneering and alert.\n\n\u201cI must teach you caution,\u201d said the magician, who, despite the\ngoodness of his heart, could not bring himself to love these dark and\nbloodthirsty people. So, in a flash, he vanished from their sight. They\nuttered a shout of consternation, and the warrior with the sinister\neyes and disfigured chin hurled his spear at the place where the\nstranger had stood. In the same instant of time he received a buffet on\nthe head that laid him flat on the moss.\n\nBlack Eagle was soon brought to the magician, who now stood quietly, in\nhis mild and visible form, calm as if nothing unusual had taken place.\nThe chief greeted his visitor respectfully, for he knew him of old.\n\n\u201cHave you seen a man running on the air, as if he had the moccasins of\nthe wind on his feet?\u201d asked Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\n\u201cI saw such an one but two days ago. He was flying northward and\nwestward, toward the Land of Giants,\u201d replied the chief of the\nmountaineers.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf continued his journey immediately, and soon came to\nthe borders of that desolate region known as the Land of Giants. Its\ninhabitants were people of tremendous stature and physical strength.\nThey were stupidly savage, and so dull of wit that no argument,\nsave that of heavier clubs than their own, could move them. And as\nthey had never met with heavier clubs than their own, no man could\nremember that their darkened opinions had ever been changed by outside\ninfluence. The biggest and strongest man was always their chief; and he\nremained their chief for just so long as he continued to be bigger and\nstronger than any of his people. When illness or old age weakened him\nthen his chieftainship ended, and perhaps his life, into the bargain.\nWise-as-a-she-wolf knew these people well, though not favourably; so he\npaused in his flight and descended to the ground at some distance from\nthe first of the great lodges. Still invisible, he advanced cautiously\non foot toward the untidy and tremendous structure of tree-trunks in\nwhich dwelt the giant who had been chief of the people at the time of\nhis last visit to the country. He had not gone more than a dozen paces\nbefore he was halted by the sight of a human body, a lifeless body,\nlying face-downward on the moss and stones. At first he thought it was\nthe body of one of the Mountain People; but, upon drawing nearer, he\nsaw that the garments of dressed leather, blood-stained and wrinkled\non that stiffened form, were of the pattern common among the warriors\nof his own country beyond the Narrow Sea. The feet were bare, but one\nof the moccasins lay close by. Very gently he turned the body over; and\nthe face of the dead man was that of Spotted Seal, as Jumping Wolf had\ndescribed it to him.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf turned away from the pitiful thing and went on in\nthe direction of the great lodge, the shapeless roof of which loomed\nabove a grove of spruces on the summit of a hill. At last he issued\nfrom the grove and stood in front of, and at a safe distance away from,\nthe entrance to the giant\u2019s abode. This entrance was nearly half the\nheight of the structure and wide in proportion. It looked more like the\nmouth of a den than the doorway of a human retreat. Bones of caribou\nand moose lay white on the trampled ground; but there was no sign of a\ncooking-fire to be seen. The giants ate their meat raw, and were never\nknown to use fire even in winter, for the sake of its warmth. In the\ndusky interior, Wise-as-a-she-wolf detected the outline of a bulky\nfigure.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nWISE-AS-A-SHE-WOLF AND CRACK BONE THE GIANT\n\n\n\u201cAwake, chief, and come out from your den. Wise-as-a-she-wolf is here\nto talk to you,\u201d cried the magician, in a formidable voice.\n\nThe head and shoulders of the giant immediately appeared, and from\nunder a fringe of tangled hair a pair of alert eyes, gray as ice,\nglared about on every side and up in the air. The giant\u2019s face was\ncovered with untidy, yellow whiskers. His forehead sloped back sharply\nfrom his eyebrows, and his nose was flat. He crouched on all-fours, and\nin one massive hand, which rested on the ground, he grasped the smaller\nend of a trimmed pine-tree. The magician thought of the littlest\nwarrior, far away and alone in the magic lodge, and decided to act with\ndiscretion.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cTHE HEAD AND SHOULDERS OF THE GIANT IMMEDIATELY\nAPPEARED, AND FROM UNDER A FRINGE OF TANGLED HAIR A PAIR OF ALERT EYES,\nGRAY AS ICE, GLARED ABOUT.\u201d]\n\n\u201cIs it you, little great-man?\u201d said the giant, in a voice that was not\nunlike the growling of a beast. \u201cI don\u2019t see you,\u201d he continued. \u201cShow\nyourself and come nearer. Old Crack Bone is ready to talk to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can talk to you very well from where I am,\u201d replied\nWise-as-a-she-wolf. \u201cAll I want to know is, have you seen anything of\ntwo little red feathers?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was afraid you had come to slay us all, mighty powerful one,\u201d said\nthe giant, with a thunderous chuckle. \u201cWe might wade across to that\nlittle island of yours some day, and eat all your caribou and kill all\nyour people,\u201d he added.\n\n\u201cAnd that will be time enough for me to slay you. Now I want you to\ngive me the two red feathers which you took from the feet of the dead\nman,\u201d replied the magician.\n\n\u201cWas he one of your warriors?\u201d asked the giant. \u201cWhen I saw him flying\nalong, like a bird, I thought it was the great Wise-as-a-she-wolf\nhimself. So I just threw a little bone into the air, to attract his\nattention, and down he came, so hard that his life was knocked right\nout of him.\u201d Then he shook with horrible laughter at the remembrance.\n\n\u201cWise-as-a-she-wolf would never fly near you, without first making\nhimself invisible. He knows you too well to trust you,\u201d replied the\nmagician, sternly.\n\n\u201cThe poor fellow whom you killed was not one of my people,\u201d he\ncontinued, \u201cbut the feathers are mine, for all that, and I must ask you\nto give them to me immediately.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can I give them to you, when I can\u2019t see you?\u201d inquired the giant,\nwith a grin.\n\n\u201cIf you will kindly lay them on the top of your lodge,\u201d replied the\nother.\n\n\u201cLittle great-one,\u201d said Crack Bone, \u201cI am not afraid of you, or any\nmagician, or anything alive under the sun. You can hide from my eye;\nbut that does me no harm. As for the feathers, my brave warrior, why,\nI intend to keep them for my own use. They are of such virtue that,\nwhen I put them in my moccasins I can jump twice as high as my head.\nWith a little more practice, I shall be able to fly as well as that\nunfortunate young man was flying before I tossed the shank-bone of a\nmoose at him.\u201d\n\nThe magician was very angry at that, and felt a strong desire to\nincrease his size and close in deadly combat with the giant. But he\nremembered the battle with Bright Robe, and the injuries then received,\nand thought of what might happen to the baby in the distant lodge if\nhe should be disabled by the giant. So he changed his position, took a\nsmall stone from the ground, breathed upon it, and threw it into the\nroof of the giant\u2019s lodge. Next moment the whole structure was a mass\nof flames, and the giant, with a howl of rage, had scrambled from the\ndangerous place and hurled his club at where he thought the magician\nwas standing. The huge weapon struck a clump of young spruce trees and\nbroke them as if they were twigs; but the magician stood safe.\n\n\u201cWill you play any more of your magic on Crack Bone?\u201d roared the giant,\nas he jumped again and again upon the fallen timber and threshed about\nwith his club. Wise-as-a-she-wolf made no sound. Before Crack Bone had\ndesisted from his violent dance, half a dozen of his people arrived on\nthe scene, shouting questions and staring with amazement at the great\npile of blazing timber that had so lately been the chief\u2019s lodge. At\nlast Crack Bone leaned on his club, and, between gasps for breath (for\nthe smoke from his burning den blew about him), answered some of their\nquestions.\n\n\u201cIt was that little magician, Wise-as-a-she-wolf, from across the salt\nwater,\u201d he said. \u201cHe came for the red feathers. He told me to give him\nback those fine red feathers. But he won\u2019t need them now.\u201d\n\nCrack Bone laughed victoriously, and drew the tiny feathers from some\nsafe hiding-place about his person. He held them up, between his great\nfingers, so that all might see. Then, bending down, he slipped one into\neach of his moccasins. The magician sprang high into the air, at sign\nof these preparations, and hung at a safe distance above the savage\ngroup, watchful but invisible.\n\n\u201cStand aside, friends,\u201d roared Crack Bone. \u201cNow I have the magic\nfeathers under my feet and I intend to jump about, so don\u2019t stand too\nclose.\u201d\n\nThe other giants fell back the distance of a few of their own great\nstrides. Then Crack Bone gathered himself together and leaped upward\nwith all the strength of his massive legs. Up he shot, high above the\nsurrounding tree-tops, struggled in the air for a few seconds and sank\nback to earth. The magic of the feathers was not strong enough to keep\nhis mountain-like body afloat. His friends were greatly impressed by\nthis display of agility, and shouted until the earth rang. But the\nmagician, high and unseen, only smiled.\n\n\u201cI fear nothing,\u201d cried the giant, to his people. \u201cWise-as-a-she-wolf\nangered me, and now where is he? He set the red fire to eat my house\nto dust, but he was not strong enough to save his own life. Oh, I am\nstrong and mighty, and have flying magic under my feet.\u201d At that he\nbegan to jump here and there, so recklessly that the other giants moved\nsullenly away.\n\n\u201cI think the feathers are safe in his keeping,\u201d said the magician. \u201cHe\ncannot harm my people with them, for they cannot lift so great a weight\nacross the Narrow Sea. Some other time, when the littlest warrior is\nolder and stronger, I shall return and win the feathers back. I shall\nalways know where to find them.\u201d\n\nWith that, he set his face again in the direction of his own country\nand his own lodge, and flashed through the air with all the speed of\nthe moccasins of the wind; and far behind and below, Crack Bone, the\nchief of the giants, continued to caper and shout before his blazing\nhouse.\n\nWithin a hundred yards of the giant, in the top of a fir-tree, perched\na little brown owl. He sat very still; but his yellow eyes were full\nof light and eagerness and cunning. He watched the stupid giant\nleaping and skipping on the magic feathers, and was glad that he had\nvisited this desolate country.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nHOW CRACK BONE WAS DOUBLY OUTWITTED\n\n\nThis little brown owl that had been a spectator of the whole of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s interview with Crack Bone, and that now sat and\nwatched the giant prancing victoriously, was none other than Bright\nRobe. He, too, believed that his enemy had been disabled by the giant\u2019s\nclub and trodden to helplessness by the giant\u2019s feet. Otherwise, the\nmagician would surely have replied to the giant\u2019s attack. One who could\nthrow magic fire onto the roof of a lodge could as easily throw it\nagainst a man\u2019s body. But he knew that his enemy was not dead, however\nhis body might be crushed and broken. He was aware that no mortal hand,\neither of giant or magician, could kill Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\nThe owl had crossed the Narrow Sea some time before Crack Bone\u2019s\ncapture of the red feathers. He had visited the camps of the\nmountaineers, and the lodges of several magicians, and the caves of\na fierce people still farther to the westward, and the lodges of the\nfat, blubber-eating people far to the northward; but, remembering his\nexperiences in his own country, he had not made himself known to any\none. He had practised the same discretion with the giants.\n\nAfter the house was burned to the ground, Crack Bone strode up the\nhill and took possession of a lodge belonging to one of his people.\nThe rightful owner was very angry, but he made no objections. He knew\nthat he was no match for the chief, especially now that the chief was\nso light on his feet. The little owl followed Crack Bone, at a safe\ndistance, watched him remove the feathers from his moccasins and tuck\nthem under his belt, and then flew away to where some of the giants had\nthrown a number of fresh bones that were not entirely devoid of flesh.\nHe ate his fill, keeping a sharp look-out all the while for foxes, and\nthen returned to spy on the giant and the magic feathers.\n\n * * * * *\n\nDay after day the little brown owl kept watch over the actions of\nthe chief of the giants. He followed the great savage on his hunting\nexpeditions, watching him strike down moose and caribou and bear. In\nthat desolate country summer was already past, and the owl was cold,\nfor he had not yet made himself a winter retreat. The rivers and ponds\nfroze and snow fell thick out of the gray skies; and still the owl\nfollowed Crack Bone or perched near his lodge, cold but determined. At\nlast his alertness and watchfulness were rewarded. Crack Bone had been\nhunting and had used the red feathers, and the bird had followed him\nclose, drifting from tree to tree. On reaching his lodge, Crack Bone\nimmediately drew his moccasins from his feet and removed the feathers\nfrom them. It was now evening, and falling snow added to the gloom.\nThe giant had killed three caribou; and just when in the act of hiding\nthe feathers under his belt, he heard a sound of furtive movements\nnear the spot where he had thrown the dead animals. He listened for\na moment, then placed the feathers on a stone in the doorway of his\nlodge and sprang in the direction of the sound that had disturbed him.\nThe owl fluttered to the ground, picked up the feathers in his beak,\nand flew away. He flew at his best speed, straight ahead through the\ngloom and the whirling snow. At last he alit in a great pine-tree and\nhid the feathers in a crevice in the bark. They would be safe there\nuntil morning. Then he snapped his beak and fluttered his wings. The\nred feathers were his, all ready to be placed in his moccasins when the\nenchantment was removed from him.\n\n\u201cI have done what Wise-as-a-she-wolf failed to do,\u201d he chuckled.\n\nCrack Bone did not reach the place where he had left the carcasses of\nthe caribou a moment too soon. Stone Hand, the giant whose house he had\nso unceremoniously taken, was turning away with all three of the bodies\nin his arms. Crack Bone struck at him with his fist; but Stone Hand\navoided the blow by leaping to one side; and letting two of the frozen\ncarcasses fall to the ground, he swung the other by the hind legs and\nsmote the chief across the head with it. The blow staggered Crack Bone\nfor a moment; but only for a moment. His skull was far too thick to be\ninjured by any weapon so light and yielding as the body of a stag. He\nreeled a little, bellowed with anger, and clutched at Stone Hand. But\nhe missed his mark in the swirling gloom, and the thief dashed away.\nCrack Bone stooped, lifted a great stone from the ground, and hurled\nit blindly after the mutinous one. Then, yanking a small tree from\nthe frozen ground, to serve him as a club, he dashed into the storm\nand darkness in mad pursuit. Stone Hand turned sharply, and headed for\nthe unpeopled wilds; but Crack Bone ran straight on, until he stumbled\namong the lodges of his people. They were upon him in a moment,\nstriking blindly with all manner of weapons. Logs flew from the tops of\nthe houses, and everybody hit at whatever was within reach. Crack Bone\nreceived some painful blows while he scrambled on all-fours. He got\nto his feet, and swung his improvised club recklessly but with great\nexecution. Lodges and giants were overturned, in a horrible uproar that\nfrightened the wild animals for miles around. Everyone fought; but none\nknew what the fight was about or whom he fought with. All were fighting\nmad.\n\nStone Hand sat down and listened to the roars of combat from afar.\n\u201cSince that old Crack Bone killed the magician and got hold of the\njumping feathers,\u201d he said, \u201che thinks he is the master of the world.\nHe took my fine, warm house away from me; and now I believe he has\nattacked the whole tribe.\u201d\n\nHe grunted and fell to devouring the one caribou that remained in his\npossession. He was hungry, for most of the game had moved southward\nsince the coming of winter; and of late only Crack Bone, with the red\nfeathers on his feet, had been able to overtake the herds. After eating\nthe last bit of raw meat, Stone Hand lay down between two small hills\nand fell asleep. The snow span about him, and covered him from head to\nfoot, as if he were a mountain. But he was full of food--that is, he\nhad just enjoyed a moderate meal--so he slumbered soundly. For a long\ntime the tumult of the distant battle continued to sift vaguely into\nhis dreams.\n\nThe sun was above the horizon when Stone Hand opened his eyes. For\na little while he wondered why he was not under cover, and stared\nstupidly at the hills on either side. He felt stiff and cold; but\nsoon got to his feet and shook the snow from his limbs and body, and\nbrushed it from his hair and face with his hands. Now he remembered\nhow he had stolen the three caribou from the chief. He chuckled at the\nrecollections of his escape and of the sounds of furious combat behind\nhim. Now all was quiet, as if there had never been a shout, or the\nthump of a descending club, since the beginning of the world. He armed\nhimself with a great piece of green timber and set out cautiously for\nthe village, crawling on hands and knees. Now, in broad daylight, the\nfamiliar fear of the chief had returned to him. So he advanced slowly,\nand kept as close to the ground as he could. At last, peering over\nthe top of a wooded hill, he obtained a clear view of the place which\nhe had left so hurriedly the previous night. He gazed at the scene in\namazement, for scarcely one of the lodges stood entire. Many were flat\non the ground and the massive timbers and rocks of which they had been\nconstructed lay scattered on all sides. Many others were unroofed. The\nsurrounding trees were uprooted and broken, and the snow was trampled\nand stained with blood for hundreds of yards in every direction. And as\nfor the inhabitants of this demolished village,--why, they seemed to be\neven in a worse way than their lodges. Some lay motionless on the snow,\nand others sat or reclined about their fallen homes, awkwardly dressing\ntheir wounds and groaning with pain. Not a giant of all that terrible\ncompany was able to stand on his feet.\n\nAs soon as an understanding of the true state of affairs got into Stone\nHand\u2019s thick head, he stood upright and advanced fearlessly. He walked\namong his fallen tribesmen and grinned at them heartlessly. His glances\nrested on old Crack Bone, who sat with his head in his hands, and he\nlooked both savage and jovial.\n\n\u201cI am your chief now,\u201d he said. \u201cDoes any one dispute my right?\u201d\n\nGroans were his only answer. Crack Bone did not so much as remove his\nhands from his head, which, I believe, he was doing his best to hold\ntogether.\n\n\u201cI am your chief,\u201d continued Stone Hand, \u201cso I will go and hunt. If I\nkill more than I can eat myself I will give you some. But I must have\nthe magic feathers on my feet, for the herds are far to the southward.\nWhere are the feathers?\u201d he asked, turning to Crack Bone.\n\nThe ex-chief groaned, and mumbled something to the effect that he\nneither knew nor cared.\n\n\u201cGive them to me,\u201d roared Stone Hand, angrily. \u201cI am the chief now.\u201d\n\nThen Crack Bone tried to explain, with many grunts and moans, that the\nfeathers were not to be found; that he had laid them down on a stone in\nfront of his lodge and that some one had stolen them during the fight.\nBut, of course, the new and self-elected chief did not believe a word\nof it.\n\n\u201cGive them to me,\u201d he bellowed, swinging his club around the other\u2019s\nhead. But Crack Bone sullenly persisted in his story of the loss of\nthe magic feathers. So Stone Hand searched him, despite his cries and\nbellowings at the pain of it; and he did not find them.\n\nThe little owl, in the meantime, had discovered a deep hole, high up\nin a great birch tree. It was the deserted nest of a woodpecker. He\ndropped the feathers into the hole; and down they fell, quite out of\nhis reach.\n\n\u201cThey will be safe there,\u201d he said. \u201cWhen I am ready to use them I will\nbreak the tree to splinters and take them out.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nTHE MAGICIANS AWAKE\n\n\nThe seasons passed, with melting snow, waning summers and scattering\nseeds. Many moons were born, each to grow and dwindle, and leave behind\nit in the blackness the germ of another moon. The herds of caribou\nmoved southward and northward again, hunted by men and wolves, yet ever\nmultiplying. The tribes grew; warriors did deeds of valour; death and\npride and love moved among the lodges. Children were born; old people\nand strong hunters and little children set their feet on the Longest\nTrail. The north loosed its fields of ice in spring-time, freighted\nwith cold and fogs and millions of seals; and so it had been since the\nbeginning of things.\n\nRun-all-day\u2019s village grew like the herds, and like the forests in the\nsheltered valleys, until it became a great clan. Run-all-day had lost\nnothing of his authority with the loss of the magic feathers, for his\npeople loved him. He was the head-chief of the clan, and under him\nwere four lesser chiefs, among whom was Jumping Wolf, the young warrior\nfrom the south. And Jumping Wolf had a lodge of his own, and Singing\nBird was his wife.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf kept close to his magic house, for it seemed that\nhis whole heart was with the littlest warrior. He named the child\nFeatherfoot, for the magic feathers were to be his, and his alone, as\nsoon as they were won back from Crack Bone, the giant. But the magician\nseemed to be in no haste to make that long journey again. There would\nbe plenty of time for it later; and now he had so many things to teach\nthe child. Little Featherfoot learned readily, for he grew, both in\nbrain and body, at twice the rate of an ordinary child. And so, when he\nwas in his sixth summer, he was as large as a boy of twelve summers,\nand knew magic that was beyond the understanding of any save the great\nmagicians. He could make fire in a moment, even as Wise-as-a-she-wolf\nhad done to burn the lodge of Crack Bone. His bow would send an arrow\nthe distance of six flights of an ordinary arrow, and no weapon,\nunless it were tipped with magic, could break or pierce his shield of\nthin leather. He could take upon himself the semblance of a wolf, a\ncaribou, or a bear, and at such times his speed was as the speed of\nthe former animals and his strength as that of the latter. Also, he\ncould make light objects heavy, and heavy objects as light as birch\nbark.\n\nWhile Bright Robe hid in desolate places, harmless but expectant, and\nthe good magician sat in his lodge, and Run-all-day\u2019s people prospered\nand grew, men were blowing on red coals in almost every camp and\nvillage in the island. And the coals they blew upon were the memories\nof old battles, and they were red with the fires of old hatreds. The\nfires leaped up and touched their flames to the hearts of the warriors.\nThe tribes had been too long at peace with one another. In the south,\nand the east, and the west, they made their war-arrows; and the lonely\nhunters and fishers of the north heard of it and returned to their\nvillages, with the lust of fighting in their hearts. And Run-all-day\nfelt the stirring of the trouble in the air, and armed his men, and\nsent swift and cunning messengers to spy upon the other clans.\n\n\u201cI was once a peaceful hunter and fisher,\u201d said he, to Red Willow, \u201cbut\nnow I am the chief of a people. If the men of other villages come\nagainst me, then must I do battle with them, to the best of my ability.\nIt is stupid to fight without cause; but it is better to fight, and\ngive back blows for every one received, than to crouch in one\u2019s lodge\nand die like a frightened hare.\u201d\n\nBeing but a man, after all, he prayed in his heart that his master,\nthe good magician, would not pacify the tribes until he had proved his\nlittle army. There was fighting blood in him; and a flame of that red\ncoal that had lain ash-hidden for so long a time, had got into his\nhonest heart.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf told Featherfoot the story of the red feathers; and\nabout two months before the time that Bright Robe would return to his\nold form and power, he set out for the land of the giants, armed with\nmagic weapons, to bring Crack Bone to terms. But Crack Bone was dead\nand Stone Hand ruled in his place. When the magician asked word of the\nfeathers, the true story of the fight and of their sudden disappearance\nwas told to him, first by Stone Hand and afterward by several others of\nthe giants. Wise-as-a-she-wolf was disturbed at the news, and blamed\nhimself for not having taken the feathers from Crack Bone long ago.\nAlso, he knew nothing of the whereabouts of Bright Robe, and this,\ntoo, disturbed the peace of his mind. He set to work immediately to\nfind the red feathers. He hunted far and wide, questioning the people\nof many tribes. He went north, to the farthest village, and southward\nto the great wooded countries, where are thousands of red-skinned\npeople, and fields of corn, and trees bearing fruits. But nowhere did\nhe hear any word of the red feathers. For the space of two moons he\nsought the lost treasures; but at last he turned homeward, and ran\nupon the air, with all the speed of the moccasins of the wind, for a\nday and a night and a day. When he came to the western coast of his\nown country, he saw below him, lying black and lifeless, the ruins of\na village. Then he knew that the tribes were at war again; and again\nhe blamed himself for having neglected his duties toward his people.\nHe descended to the ground and saw the bodies of men, with wounds upon\nthem, and broken weapons.\n\nBright Robe, in the meantime, was tasting the joy of his old ways\nagain. The moment he had returned to his old shape, he had increased\nhis man-strength an hundred times and splintered the pine-tree. Then\nhe had placed the feathers in his moccasins and crossed the Narrow\nSea. Again he was the master of his magic; and though he had lost the\nsilver robe that had turned him invisible at will, the newly acquired\nfeathers more than made up for the loss. But he had learned discretion\nduring his five summers spent in the shape of an owl, and so was\ncontent to go quietly among the islanders for a little while, making no\ndemonstrations of his power. He even concealed his identity and avoided\nthe lodges of people who knew him. He made himself agreeable by many\nfires, talked modestly, and listened attentively to the words of old\nmen and warriors. And so he learned that his enemy, Wise-as-a-she-wolf,\nhad been very quiet of late, and that all the clans were uneasy with\nwar-lust. He knew that the power of Wise-as-a-she-wolf would suffer\nif the people fought, for those who suffered would feel that he had\nwithdrawn his protection from them, and those who conquered would\nknow that they had done so without any help from him. Therefore he\nwas anxious to see the islanders battling among themselves, and after\nconsidering the matter, and investigating the relative strengths of the\nlarger clans and their leaders, he disclosed himself to the chief of\nthe people of a great district in the south. This chief was a veritable\nking, with four villages and hundreds of miles of hunting country\nunder his rule. His name was Cold Wind, and his heart was harder than\nthe ice-fields of the north. So to him Bright Robe made himself known,\nand offered to give him assistance in the battle and at the council\nfire.\n\nCold Wind dared not refuse Bright Robe\u2019s offer; but he was not pleased\nat having a greater person than himself on the scene. The warriors were\ncalled together, armed for battle, and the campaign was begun with the\ndestruction of that village in which lived the old woman called Hot\nTongue, and those great warriors, Yellow Fox, Seven Knives, Strong\nHunter, and Mighty Hand. Bright Robe had no pleasant memories of that\nvillage; so the people were slain, and the lodges robbed of their\ntreasures of fur and food and then burned to the ground. The victorious\nfighting-parties travelled westward then and destroyed many little\nvillages. But the clans rose on every side to stem the course of Cold\nWind\u2019s people; so Bright Robe retired from the scene of action, knowing\nthat the mischief was well begun.\n\nBright Robe did not want to attract Wise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s attention\nagain, for he knew that he was neither strong nor cunning enough to\nwithstand that great magician. So he left Cold Wind and the warriors,\nand crossed the island, to continue quietly in his evil ways. And at\nevery village and every camp he questioned the people concerning his\nenemy\u2019s whereabouts and affairs. The people had heard nothing of the\ngreat magician for several seasons, so Bright Robe learned nothing by\nhis questionings. He began to believe and hope that Wise-as-a-she-wolf\nhad left the country.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf returned to his lodge and told Featherfoot of his\njourney, and of its fruitlessness. Of this matter, and of the signs of\nwarfare which he had beheld in the west, he spoke at length. The child\nwas eager to go in search of the feathers, but of that the magician\nwould not hear.\n\n\u201cMay I help my people in the fighting?\u201d he asked. \u201cWith my magic, I am\nalready stronger than any warrior, and with my shield I can turn aside\nthe heaviest and swiftest arrow. I have no fear, master, and yet I know\nthe value of caution. With the knowledge that you have taught me, even\nnow I would be a help to my people.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay,\u201d cried the good magician, sorely troubled. \u201cNay, you are still\nbut a child at heart, for all your size and strength. Your hand would\nstay in the stroke, for very pity, even when your life was at risk.\nKeep the protection of this lodge, and I am your friend. Your people\nshall be under my special protection until such time as I can show the\nclans the foolishness of this strife among themselves.\u201d\n\nIt was for love of this child that Wise-as-a-she-wolf had postponed the\ncontest with the giant, and by that had lost the magic feathers; and\nnow, for the father-love in his heart, he wanted to keep the child in\nthe safety of the lodge, where the very powers that he had given him\nwere of no use to mankind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nTHE UNFINISHED BATTLE\n\n\nRun-all-day\u2019s fighting force consisted of about one hundred and\nforty warriors, well armed and trained. Every man of them could\nshoot straight and strong with the bow, and throw his club and\nspear with accuracy and force. All had strong shields with which to\nguard their bodies, and blades of flint in their belts for use in\nhand-to-hand grapplings. There were scouts lurking afar, to the south\nand west,--swift runners to bring word to the village of the trend\nand progress of the different battles and war-parties. The village\nwas enclosed in a breast-high fence of brush and tree-trunks, and the\nwarriors kept within easy reach of the lodges, ready to answer a call\nto arms at any time of the day or night.\n\nIt was early of a June morning when two runners entered the village\ngasping for breath, and told the chief that they had seen several\nwar-parties at a distance of about four hours\u2019 journey to the\nsouthward. They had found them at night, asleep around small fires, and\nwere not certain of their numbers. They were lying on the ground close\nas the stones in the bed of a river, each rolled in his sleeping-robe\nand looking very long and broad in the uncertain light. Run-all-day\ncalled the lesser chiefs and most experienced warriors into his lodge,\nand a council of war was held without delay. Jumping Wolf volunteered\nto set out immediately, with a small party of the swiftest among the\nyoung men, to spy upon the approaching enemy and return with word of\ntheir strength.\n\n\u201cIt is a good plan,\u201d said Run-all-day; and the others nodded their\nheads. So Jumping Wolf selected six youths to accompany him, and left\nthe village. They carried no arms save the knives in their belts; but\ntheir shields, spears, and clubs were to be held in readiness against\ntheir return.\n\nWhen Jumping Wolf had been gone an hour, the council\u2019s plans were\nsettled. A chief named Tall Pine advanced into the hilly, wooded\ncountry to the southward, close along the eastern shore of the stream,\nwith thirty men. His orders were to halt and take cover a mile from the\nvillage, throwing his men in a thin line across the probable course of\nthe enemy. This line was to let the leading body of the enemy pass\nthrough it, and then close in, on the flanks of the invaders, with fire\nof arrows and spears. Another force of thirty warriors, with a chief\nnamed Red Sky in command, took position a few hundred yards in rear of\nthe other, where the river begins to widen into the bay, and spread\nfrom the rocks of the coast across the front of the village. This party\nwas to strike the enemy in front, at the first sounds of conflict. Both\nthese parties were to fall back upon the main body, after loosing a\nfew volleys and striking a few swift blows. The main body, consisting\nof over seventy men, and led by Run-all-day and several other chiefs,\nlay in close ranks in front of the village, well hidden among rocks and\nbrush.\n\nIt was about three hours before noon when Jumping Wolf\u2019s party returned\nfrom the scouting and joined the advance line, where their arms and\nshields were awaiting them. They had run far and fast, had seen the\nenemy advancing in three lines, and had returned at top speed. Jumping\nWolf reported the number of the enemy as close upon three hundred.\nA fresh runner was sent back with the information, and the scouts\nremained with Tall Pine.\n\nAn hour passed--two hours passed--and still the wilderness lay quiet\nunder the warm and high-wheeling sun. Jumping Wolf crawled away from\nthe line of impatient warriors and slipped into the rugged places. He\nwas soon back again, and crouched beside Tall Pine.\n\n\u201cThey are within bow-shot\u2019s distance,\u201d he whispered. \u201cThe leading party\nwill touch that open hillside,\u201d and he pointed with his finger.\n\nThe word went along the line, and every concealed warrior fixed his\ngaze on the rocky slope indicated, and set the notches of arrows to\nthe taut strings. The figure of a man appeared suddenly from the\nscrubby growth above the clearing. He stood upright and gazed ahead,\nand on every side, under a shading hand. At last, evidently satisfied\nwith the result of his survey, he waved his arm and advanced further\ninto the open. He stooped, and took advantage of every bit of cover,\nmoving swiftly forward all the while. They came after him quickly and\nnoiselessly, every man following the tactics of the leader in crossing\nthe open space. The party numbered more than seventy warriors. Upon\nreaching the foot of the slope, where the ground was rough and lightly\nwooded, they closed in an irregular formation and increased their\nspeed. They seemed to be in a great hurry to add one more smoking\nvillage to the list of their military achievements. They hastened\nalong, four and five abreast, close-ranked, lulled to carelessness by\nthe ease of former victories.\n\nThe twanging of bow-strings opened the battle-music, and the arrows\nswished and struck. The invaders scattered, and sprang to right and\nleft in search of Tall Pine\u2019s hidden warriors; and from either side the\narrows continued to leap from rock and bush and tree. The long shafts\nrattled across the shields and stood deep in flesh and muscle; and even\nwhile the invaders dashed here and there, Red Sky appeared in front\nof them, with his thirty men, and advanced swiftly behind a shower of\narrows. The leader of the enemy rallied his scattered fighters and led\nthem against the new arrivals; but only forty of his seventy were able\nto join the charge. Red Sky met them with a flight of spears; and at\nthe same moment the bow-men under Tall Pine and Jumping Wolf sprang\ninto sight and closed upon their rear.\n\nSoon the victors were busy collecting arrows, drawing them from dead\nbodies and gathering them up from the ground. A few had wounds to\nbind, but only a few. It had been a swift and easy victory for the\nskirmishers of Run-all-day\u2019s army, and not more than a dozen of the\ninvaders had escaped death by flight.\n\nSuddenly more of the enemy issued from the woods above the open\nhillside, and rushed down the slope, score after score. It was the main\nbody, numbering more than two hundred fighting-men. They came at their\nbest pace, wondering, no doubt, why the sounds of combat had ceased;\nperhaps believing that Run-all-day was already overthrown, and in haste\nto join in the looting of the village. By the time the scene of the\nfight was reached, only the dead awaited them.\n\nThe sixty victors fell noiselessly back and joined the double line of\ndefenders in front of the village. Word of the brief fight and of the\napproach of the main body of the enemy passed from mouth to mouth.\nThen all lay still, close to the ground, and breathlessly awaited the\narrival of the invaders. They had a fairly clear view of the land for\nseveral hundred yards in front of their coverts. At last the vanguard\nof the enemy appeared among the little hummocks and clumps of trees,\nand a great shout went up from them at the sight of what appeared to\nthem an unprotected village. Of what account is a barrier of brush if\nthere are no warriors to strengthen it?\n\nThen, standing upright between the hidden defenders and the invaders\nswiftly forming line for attack, appeared the figure of a young man in\ngarments of dressed leather, richly decorated. The advance was halted,\nand the warriors of Run-all-day held their arrows.\n\n\u201cGo back to your villages,\u201d cried the young man to the southerners.\n\u201cYou have shed too much blood of your own countrymen. Turn on your\ntrail of blood and ashes, and go back to your deserted lodges.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the good magician. It is Wise-as-a-she-wolf,\u201d whispered\nRun-all-day\u2019s warriors.\n\n\u201cWho speaks so mightily?\u201d cried a young chief from the ranks in front.\n\u201cAre we to be turned back by a voice, who have scattered the people of\nten encampments?\u201d and he bent his bow.\n\n\u201cYes! Though the voice has been silent over-long,\u201d replied the\nmagician. \u201cUnstring your bows, and return to your own lands, and mourn\nthe ruin you have done.\u201d\n\nAt that the young chief raised his bow.\n\n\u201cLoose the arrow, fool,\u201d cried the other; and the arrow flew. And he\nextended his hand and plucked it from the air and dropped it, harmless,\nto the ground.\n\n\u201cI am Wise-as-a-she-wolf, whom men once called Highest Star,\u201d said the\nmagician. \u201cIs this your gratitude for a hundred seasons of protection?\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us at them, master,\u201d cried Run-all-day, springing to his feet.\n\nThe magician halted and silenced the great chief with a gesture of his\nhand. Then he advanced upon the wavering southerners who lusted for\nblood and the treasures of the village in spite of the fear in their\nhearts.\n\n\u201cAll the people of this island are my people, else would I strike you\nfor your sins of greed and blood-thirstiness,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf,\nwalking steadily forward.\n\n\u201cThe master is angry. I hear it in his voice. He will strike them in\nhis wrath,\u201d whispered Run-all-day to a man beside him.\n\nTrue, the magician was angry, for all the gentleness of him; and the\nanger shone in his eyes, and scattered the men of the south before him.\nThey ran to right and left, but they did not turn back toward their own\nvillages. And the young chief who had loosed the arrow, called the\nmore daring of his followers to stand firm. So wicked was his heart,\nand so full was it of vanity, that he knew nothing of discretion. He\nhurled two spears, in quick succession, at the good magician.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf snatched the spears from the air, stood for a second\nwith one in either hand, and then vanished from the sight of friend\nand foe. Next moment the arrogant young chief lay dead on the ground,\nstruck down by an invisible weapon. At that, the invaders turned and\nran southward, frantic with terror, each warrior expecting immediate\ndeath from the unseen hand. Wise-as-a-she-wolf knew that their hearts\nwere hard, and that their lesson was not yet learned, so he ordered\nRun-all-day and his warriors to follow the fugitives and deliver six\nflights of arrows.\n\nNot more than half of the three hundred southern warriors got safely\nback to their own country; and they were spent and sore, and full\nof regret for their misdeeds. Also, they were none the richer for\ntheir great campaign, for they had retreated so whole-heartedly from\nRun-all-day\u2019s village, that they had thrown away their spoils of former\nvictories to lighten their flight. The women and children and old men\njeered the survivors and mourned the dead with a great and depressing\nnoise. All the villages of that region suffered hunger, for the fishing\nand hunting had been long neglected.\n\nScarcely had they settled in their lodges again, humbled and sad,\nbefore Wise-as-a-she-wolf appeared among them, and unseated the\nremaining chiefs and set others in authority. After which, seeing that\ntheir vanity was broken, he drove a herd of caribou close to their\nvillage, that they might have food with which to support their lives\nwhile they mended their ways. He made medicines for the sick among the\nwomen and children and old men, and gave healing salves to some of the\nwounded warriors. Then he left them, and flew upon his magic moccasins\nto quell other clans and still the fighting in every quarter of the\nisland. In some cases he punished and in others he showed mercy, always\nreading the hearts of the people. So, in a few days, he had brought the\nisland to peace again and struck all the evil counsellors, save Bright\nRobe, with his wrath.\n\nBut Bright Robe he could not find, though he heard from many that\nhe had been in the country, urging the clans to warfare and flying\nthrough the air like a bird.\n\nSo he knew that the red feathers were in the possession of his rival\nagain, and vowed to his heart that he would seek him over the length\nand breadth of the world.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI\n\nBRIGHT ROBE\u2019S DISCRETION\n\n\nWhile Bright Robe was yet a little brown owl, watching the pine-tree in\nwhich he had hidden the red feathers, far away in the Land of Giants,\nold Whispering Grass had gathered her herbs and roots together, and\ngone down into a valley where some families of her own kin had built\nthemselves a village. Little Heron, the chief of this village, was\nher grandson. He was a quiet man, of a good heart and contented mind,\nand he received the old medicine-woman with warmth and respect, and\ngave her a fine lodge in which to brew her doses and dream her ancient\ndreams.\n\n\u201cI am an old woman now,\u201d Whispering Grass had told him, on the day of\nher arrival, \u201cand my blood has so little of glow in it that the winds\non the mountain shake me with the fear of death. Also, it is hard for\nme to travel in the forests and gather the leaves and roots, and the\nvery cooking of food has become a weariness. So I have crawled from my\nlonely house, with much labour and pain, to this warm valley, that I\nmay teach my knowledge of curing human ills to some one who will live\nmany years. And I want to die warm, with women of my own clan beside\nme, and a bright fire before the doorway of the lodge.\u201d\n\nLittle Heron and his people treated the old woman with kindness and\nrespect. Her lodge was warm with the pelts of animals, and all her\nfood was cooked for her by the wife of the chief. Little children came\nabout her, to hear the wonderful stories that were half of memory and\nhalf of invention. And to several of the young women of the village she\ntaught all that she knew of the science of medicine. One day she told\nLittle Heron the story of the battle between Wise-as-a-she-wolf and\nBright Robe, and of how Bright Robe had been stripped of his powers for\nfive seasons, and turned into the shape of a little owl, by the good\nmagician. She told of Bright Robe\u2019s hate of her, and of her fear that\nhe should seek her and kill her when his evil power was returned to him.\n\nFor a winter and a summer she lived in peace and comfort with her\nkinsfolk; and before she died she warned Little Heron once more\nagainst Bright Robe, and gave to Star Flower, the chief\u2019s little\ndaughter, a whistle made of willow, small and wrinkled; and with her\nlast breath she told the child the virtue of the whistle.\n\nWhen the clans were rising on every side, the strong to raid, and the\nweaker to defend their homes, Little Heron remained quietly in his\nvalley and told his people that warfare was more dangerous than any\nform of labour and utterly without profit to the greatest warriors. His\npeople listened and nodded their heads, for they believed Little Heron\nto be one of the wisest men in the world. Later, when a fugitive from\nsome distant battle staggered into their valley and told them of the\nbloodshed and ruin, and of the evil advice of Bright Robe, they were\ndoubly convinced of their chief\u2019s wisdom. And the women who had learned\nthe science of medicine from Whispering Grass, cured the stranger of\nhis hurts; and he, poor warrior, was so charmed with the treatment and\nthe quiet, that he married one of his doctors and became a member of\nLittle Heron\u2019s village. That was wise of him, for even while he lay\nsick of his wounds the lodges of his own people were blazing like a\nhundred torches.\n\nThough the horrors of war passed by the village in the secluded\nvalley, Bright Robe found his way to it. And this was the manner of\nhis coming and his going. As soon as the fighting was well commenced\nand every man slaying or being slain, robbing or being robbed, in a\nsatisfactory manner, the evil magician retired to secluded places, and\ndesisted from flying above the tree-tops, except at night, for fear\nof Wise-as-a-she-wolf, of whose whereabouts he knew nothing. While he\nskulked about, trying to decide upon some plan of action, he remembered\nhis old grudge against Whispering Grass. So he made his way straight to\nthe little clearing on the mountain, the scene of his ignoble defeat\nfive seasons before. But he found nothing but an empty lodge with\ntattered sides and rotted poles. Moss was creeping over the floor of\nbeaten earth, and the thousand little fires at which the old woman had\nbrewed her medicines were covered with forest growth.\n\n\u201cDeath has cheated me of my revenge,\u201d reflected Bright Robe.\n\nWandering aimlessly about, he happened upon the valley in which dwelt\nthe peace-loving Little Heron and his contented people. Here, perhaps,\nhe could rest for awhile in safety and make trouble before stealing\naway. It looked, to his wicked eye, like a place sadly in need of\ntrouble. He descended into the valley and the cluster of lodges, and\nwas met by the chief.\n\n\u201cI am a poor hunter, who lived alone beside the River of the Beavers,\u201d\nhe said. \u201cSix nights ago I was attacked by a party of fighting-men, and\nfled for my life. Ever since then I have wandered, homeless. My lodge\nis flat on the ground and my stores and furs are stolen.\u201d\n\nLittle Heron gazed at the evil black eyes of the stranger, and,\nremembering Whispering Grass\u2019s descriptions of Bright Robe, knew him\nfor the evil magician. He showed nothing of this in face or manner, but\ninvited the stranger into his lodge and called for food of the best to\nbe brought, and a little of the liquor of crushed berries. Bright Robe\nate and drank with zest, and in his heart chuckled at the simplicity\nof Little Heron. He glanced about him with his keen eyes, noting every\nsign of peace and prosperity with delight.\n\n\u201cWhat a change shall be here, in the space of a few days,\u201d he thought,\nand forcing a smile, congratulated the chief on his good food and\ncomfortable condition.\n\n\u201cThe war has not touched you,\u201d he said. \u201cYou are fortunate, chief; for\nhere am I, a lover of peace and honesty, ruined and a fugitive. The\ngods are blind when the strong clans go forth with their war-shields.\nIf one does not kill, then must he be killed, or else run away.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak truth,\u201d replied Little Heron, as he removed a broiled snipe\nfrom the fire and placed it before his guest. \u201cWhen the clans go to\nwar, urged on by the lust in their blood and the evil tongues of wicked\nmagicians, then \u2019tis a sad time for the peaceful and honest. But this\nis a small village, well hidden, and far from the great chief\u2019s, and my\npeople are a quiet, home-staying folk. And having escaped for so long,\nI have nothing to fear, for Wise-as-a-she-wolf, the good magician, who\nvisited me seven nights ago, and promised to come again in eight days\u2019\ntime, which will be to-morrow, will soon quiet the fighting. He is also\nin quest of a magician called Bright Robe.\u201d\n\nThe stranger glanced furtively at his imaginative host; but in the\nface of Little Heron there was nothing to be read but simplicity and\ncontentment.\n\n\u201cI have heard of that great magician, Wise-as-a-she-wolf, and shall\nremain with you, if you will keep me, to enjoy the honour of seeing\nhim,\u201d replied Bright Robe. But his appetite was gone, and he ate\nvery little of the snipe. In spite of his power of dissembling, he\nshowed considerable uneasiness during the afternoon; and Little Heron\nwas quick to note it. When the men gathered together, in the evening,\nto tell stories of past adventures, Bright Robe had little to say.\nPleading weariness, he retired early to a lodge courteously placed at\nhis disposal by the chief. In the morning, much to the wonder of the\nvillagers, the lodge was empty. But when they ran to Little Heron with\nthe news, that great chief smiled knowingly.\n\n\u201cThe stranger was Bright Robe, the evil magician,\u201d he said, calmly. \u201cI\nknew him; so I had to warn him to pass on.\u201d\n\nBright Robe flew from the village in the secluded valley as soon as\nevery one had retired and the lodges were quiet, and raced westward\nat his best speed. The island of his birth was no place for him while\nWise-as-a-she-wolf was stirring about. He knew that another meeting\nwith his powerful rival could mean nothing but five seasons more of\nundignified retirement for him, to say nothing of the painful wounds\nwhich he would be sure to receive before he was reduced to submission.\nWithout his silver robe, he knew that he could not hide for long from\nthe keen-eyed, invisible Wise-as-a-she-wolf. So he flew westward across\nthe darkness, determined to remain in the far places of the earth until\nhe had acquired sufficient strength to return and overthrow his rival.\nHe crossed the Narrow Sea, and before dawn was at the edge of a village\nof the mountaineers.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII\n\nTHE DIPLOMACY OF BRIGHT ROBE\n\n\nBright Robe was well aware that, until his power should be as great\nas his rival\u2019s, or the quest of the red feathers should be forgotten,\nhe must practise every precaution to avoid attracting that magician\u2019s\nattention afresh, must move artfully, and play a part in life for\nwhich, by nature, he was but ill-suited. His old, arrogant tactics\nmust be forsworn, or at least amended, for with Wise-as-a-she-wolf on\nhis trail he must needs have a following of loyal men who would give\nno information concerning him. He knew that his enemy would seek him\neverywhere; so he sat down in the woods, at the edge of the village of\nmountaineers, and devoted several hours to thought. He decided that\nthe mountaineers, a strong, clannish nation, should be honoured by his\npatronage and used like tools, to his purpose. He had never had much\nto do with these people, and if they knew anything of his true nature,\nit was only by hearsay. He would use all his magic to the advancement\nof their prosperity, even as his enemy did for the islanders. And\nhe dreamed that the time was not far off (as time is calculated by\nmagicians) when he should use these mountaineers as a weapon against\nhis enemy.\n\nHe did not appear immediately to the people whom he had chosen to\nshape to the fulfilment of his plans, but waited until nightfall, and\nthen flew northward, hundreds of miles beyond the knowledge of the\nmountaineers, and descended upon a village of the fat folk who eat raw\nflesh. He increased his stature to seven times that of the human body,\nand thus struck terror into the hearts of the blubber-eaters. They\noffered him their wealth of ivory and furs if he would but leave them\nin peace.\n\n\u201cMy name is Bright Robe,\u201d said he, in reply to their abject cries. \u201cI\ndo not want your ivory or walrus tusks, nor yet all your furs. But\nbring me your best robes, for I am going to my great lodge of ice,\nseven suns\u2019 journey to the northward, where the cold is so sharp that\nno animal can live save the great white wolves.\u201d\n\nFrom their stores he selected a score of robes of the finest black\nfox-skins, and a few great pelts of musk-ox, and white bear. Then,\nhaving the furs which he had chosen placed in a heap, he reduced\nthem to within a portable compass with his magic, lifted them to the\nhollow of his arm, and sprang into the air. He flew due north; and\nthe blubber-eaters stared after him, in silence and sorrow, until he\nvanished from their sight.\n\nBeyond the range of vision of the blubber-eaters, Bright Robe altered\nhis course. This talk of his lodge of ice, and this northward flight,\nwere but moves in his new game. By sunrise of the next morning he was\nin the largest village of the mountaineers, standing before the tent\nof the head-chief. This chief was no other than Black Eagle, from whom\nWise-as-a-she-wolf had once asked for information concerning the flight\nof Spotted Seal, the warrior who had stolen the red feathers from the\nlodge of Run-all-day. The dogs advanced upon Bright Robe even as they\nhad upon his rival, on a former occasion; but they soon fell back, and\nslunk away, before the glance of his eyes. He threw the little bundle,\nwhich he had brought from the north, to the ground in front of Black\nEagle\u2019s lodge. He passed his hand above it, and muttered a few swift\nwords, and there lay the twenty robes of fox skin and the other pelts.\nThen he called upon the chief, by name.\n\nBlack Eagle looked cautiously from his lodge, and stared in wonder at\nthe stranger and the great pile of furs.\n\n\u201cI am Bright Robe,\u201d said the magician, \u201cand behold I have brought you a\ngift of great price, to show my friendship for you and your people.\u201d\n\nAt that, Black Eagle eyed him suspiciously.\n\n\u201cWhy do you make me such a gift?\u201d he asked. \u201cI have done you no\nservice. What is it you want of me? For I know that it is not for\nnothing that you lay all these skins of the black fox in front of my\ndoor.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall be honest with you, chief,\u201d replied Bright Robe. \u201cI could not\ndeceive so shrewd a man as you, even if it were in my heart to do so. I\nbring you this gift of furs, all stitched into broad robes, and shall\nmake you other gifts, hoping that you will do me a favour. Let me enter\nyour lodge and talk with you, and you will be glad of my coming.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat may be as it proves,\u201d replied Black Eagle, drily. \u201cThe proof of\nthe good hunt is in the cooking-pot. The best magician who honoured me\nwith a visit, nearly broke the head of one of my strongest warriors.\nAnd he--he was known, far and wide, as a gentle magician.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what was his name?\u201d inquired Bright Robe.\n\n\u201cWise-as-a-she-wolf,\u201d replied the chief. He noted the look of surprise\non the other\u2019s face, and added the information that the warrior had\nangered the magician by hurling a spear at him. But by then Bright Robe\nwas shaking his head mournfully.\n\n\u201cHe is bloodthirsty at heart,\u201d he said. \u201cI have known it for a long\ntime. But let me into your lodge, chief, for I have a long story to\ntell you.\u201d\n\nBlack Eagle hesitated, and eyed his visitor uneasily, for he did not\nrelish the thought of a private interview with him.\n\n\u201cMy chiefs will be offended if they are not called to hear your talk.\nThey are like children, in such matters,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cYou do not trust me,\u201d said Bright Robe, sadly. \u201cBut I trust you,\u201d he\nadded, \u201cso you may call your leading warriors to hear what I have to\nsay.\u201d\n\nBlack Eagle lost no time in summoning the more important men of the\nvillage to his lodge. They gathered swiftly, armed with spears and\nclubs and looking even more savage than their dogs.\n\nBright Robe, pretending to be quite unnerved by the sight of their\nweapons, pointed to the heap of furs, and then, very modestly, told\nthe story of his fear of Wise-as-a-she-wolf, and of his wish to take\nshelter with the strong warriors of the mountains. He explained\nthat he did not ask them to defend him with their weapons, or run\nany risk on his behalf, but only to hide all knowledge of him from\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, or any stranger; and in return for this service\nhe promised to supply their chief village with all the food and fur\nrequired by its people.\n\nThe mountaineers considered the matter with wise and lengthy\ndeliberation. They examined the furs which lay before the lodge, and\nquestioned the magician as to where he had obtained them. He told them\nhow he had robbed the blubber-eaters, miles and miles to the northward,\nonly a few hours before.\n\n\u201cI tell you the truth because I trust you, because you are my friends,\u201d\nhe said. \u201cBut the day will surely come, and perhaps it will be very\nsoon, when Wise-as-a-she-wolf will see these skins and ask you the\nsame question which you have asked me. Then you must say that they are\nof your own killing.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he would not believe us,\u201d said Black Eagle, \u201cfor the great white\nbear and the musk-ox are not of this country. In the old days we\nsometimes obtained such skins, in small numbers, from the fat people.\nBut now we have no dealings with them. And Wise-as-a-she-wolf knows all\nthese things as I know the taste of deer-meat.\u201d\n\n\u201cSay you so,\u201d cried Bright Robe. \u201cThen behold, they are all the skins\nof little foxes.\u201d And so they were, in the flash of an eye.\n\n\u201cWe hear you, and we see,\u201d said an old warrior. \u201cThe ears of\nquestioners shall be filled with lies, according to your wish. But why\ndo you fear this other magician, you who are such a great magic-maker,\nand can travel so fast and so far? Could you not change him into a fox\nskin, as you have just done to these pelts of bear and musk-ox?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is stronger than I, and his speed is even greater than mine. Also,\nhe can make himself invisible as the wind,\u201d replied Bright Robe,\ntruthfully.\n\n\u201cWe know that. He did it before our eyes,\u201d said Black Eagle. And all\nthe others nodded their heads in agreement. At last it was decided\nthat Bright Robe should be given a home in the tribe, and such\nprotection as lies and pretended ignorance could furnish, in return for\na generous supply of food and furs. They led him up the mountain-side,\nand showed him a cave, the mouth of which was hidden by climbing\nbushes. The magician examined it, and thankfully accepted it as his\nhome, until such time as he should be in a position to choose a better.\nThe chief was about to order a man to bring robes and food to the cave,\nbut the magician laughed and shook his head.\n\n\u201cI mean to fly abroad to-night, to gather six days\u2019 food for the\nvillage, so I shall furnish this place at the same time,\u201d he explained.\n\u201cNow I must rest,\u201d he added, anxious to get the warriors away from the\nmouth of the cave; for a chilling fear that his great enemy might be\nsomewhere near, alert to note anything unusual, was on his heart. So\nBlack Eagle returned to the village with his followers, and Bright Robe\ncrawled deep into his cave and began a minute examination of it. He was\nnot entirely satisfied with the result of the investigation, for the\ncave was nothing but a tunnel, nowhere of more than half the height\nof a man, and of a width scarcely more generous. It sloped gently\ndownward, and ended in a natural wall of the mountain\u2019s rib.\n\n\u201cA very fine trap,\u201d remarked the magician, \u201cand I am playing\ntoo unproved a part to risk living in a trap. There might be\ndisagreements,\u201d he continued. \u201cThen a good fire at the mouth of the\ncave would make it very uncomfortable, even for me--if I happened to be\nat home.\u201d\n\nHe found bones scattered about, and decided that many wolves had denned\nthere in the past. He lay down on his back, placed his feet against\nthe end of the tunnel, and anchored himself to the rocky sides, by\nthe grip of his hands. Then, with a word, his strength was increased\ntwenty-fold, though his stature remained normal. He thrust tentatively\nwith his feet. He pushed harder; and harder yet; and at the third\neffort he felt the rock shift a little. At that, he rested from his\nwork long enough to test the roof and walls, to make sure that they,\nalso, were not giving way. Lying flat again, he applied his feet to\nwhat he now knew to be an unattached mass of rock, and pushed slowly\nbut steadily, and a shower of earth and small stones rattled down upon\nhis feet and legs. He drew himself forward, took a fresh grip with\nhis hands on the sides of the tunnel, and unbent all his strength in\na last, sudden thrust. Outward flew the mass of earth-bound rock,\nbigger than the lodge of Black Eagle, and rolled downward for a short\ndistance, leaving behind it a jagged hole through which entered a glow\nof shaded daylight.\n\nBright Robe cleared the earth from his person and looked cautiously\nout from the hole which he had just kicked in the mountain. Already\nhis magic strength had faded out of his muscles and bones, for he had\nnot the power to command it for long at a time. He saw before him a\ndeep, narrow valley of the mountains, and steep, wooded slopes rising\non all sides. A few yards below him lay the great mass of rock which he\nhad dislodged from its resting-place of centuries. No living thing was\nin sight, except a hawk perched in a tree-top half-way up the western\nslope of the valley. Black Eagle\u2019s village lay to the eastward, on the\nother side of the ridge through which Bright Robe had crawled, by way\nof the cave. The magician viewed the result of his labour with grim\nsatisfaction.\n\n\u201cI like a lodge with two doorways,\u201d he said. \u201cBut it is as well that\nmy friends should have a knowledge of one only.\u201d\n\nHe saw that the rock which he had rolled into the valley might attract\nattention of any chance wanderer on the mountain sides, or, worse\nstill, of any one flying in the air. Fresh earth still clung to it,\nin patches, and it had cut a deep gash in the moss and soil of the\nvalley. It was altogether too evident for his liking. So he crawled\nfrom the back-door of the cave, worked such magic on the great boulder\nas to reduce it to the dimensions of a pebble, and hurled it over the\nwestern wall. Then he repaired the damages suffered by the moss and\nyoung trees, bent a few spruces from their places so that they hid the\nunnatural hole in the mountain, and retired.\n\nBright Robe spent the early part of the night in spying upon his\nallies. He lay hidden in a clump of bushes close to their evening fire,\nand listened to their talk; but, though he heard many things that\nmade his ears tingle, they were planning no treachery against him.\nAt last he crawled away, and flew westward and northward, beyond the\ngiant\u2019s country, and robbed a camp of fishermen of all the fruits of\ntheir toil. He found some pemmican and a few furs, which he kept for\nhimself. When the mountaineers awoke next morning and discovered the\ngreat store of fish, they were well pleased with the bargain they had\nmade.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII\n\nTHE QUEST\n\n\nHaving restored peace to his beloved islanders, Wise-as-a-she-wolf\nallowed Featherfoot to return to his father, and devoted himself to the\nsearch for the red feathers. He questioned every inhabitant of every\nvillage in the island, and beat every grove for his cunning enemy. He\ninvestigated the mountains and the rocky coasts, and scanned every\nfoot of the barrens; but not a sign of Bright Robe rewarded him. But\nfrom Little Heron, he learned of the fugitive\u2019s visit to the secluded\nvalley, and of his furtive departure in the night. Assured that he\nwas no longer in the island, he crossed the Narrow Sea, and repeated\nthe question which he had put to Black Eagle once before, when on the\ntrail of Spotted Seal. And Black Eagle made the same answer. \u201cI saw a\nman flying over the mountains, ten days ago, toward the land of the\ngiants,\u201d he said. \u201cHave you not yet caught the warrior who stole the\nmagic feathers?\u201d he asked.\n\nBut the good magician had no time to spend in replying to foolish and\nimpertinent questions. In a second he was high above the village again,\nspeeding toward the black places where the giants lived their sullen\nand stupid lives. He found Stone Hand squatting before the entrance\nof his mound-like lodge, and questioned him from a distance. But it\nhappened that the chief of the giants was in even a worse temper than\nusual, for he had but just eaten too largely of bear meat that was not\nvery fresh.\n\n\u201cWho asks me questions,\u201d he cried, \u201cdisturbing me when I am in pain?\nShow yourself, whoever you are.\u201d\n\nThe good magician showed himself at a safe distance from the\ndisgruntled giant. \u201cI am Wise-as-a-she-wolf,\u201d he said, and again asked\nif anything had been seen of Bright Robe, or of a man flying in the air.\n\n\u201cI know nothing of such things, save that Crack Bone once thought he\ncould fly like a little bird,\u201d growled the giant. \u201cAnd it did him no\ngood,\u201d he added, with a grunt of laughter.\n\nThe magician could read nothing in that hairy, dirty, lowering face.\nThe skull was too thick to allow the workings of the little brain to\naffect the glassy eyes. But his suspicions were aroused. \u201cYou are\nencased in stupidity like a seal in blubber,\u201d said he, and vanished\nfrom the giant\u2019s indifferent sight. But he did not go away. For three\ndays he continued in the vicinity of the giants\u2019 village, listened\nto their infrequent talk without learning anything, and examined\nat one time or another, the interior of every lodge. This led to\nnothing, however, and he was forced to confess to himself that he had\nmistaken the giant\u2019s stupidity and ill-temper for an intelligent and\npreconceived attempt to evade his questions.\n\nSo he left the giants and travelled northward. In the Land of Little\nSticks he searched the camps of lonely hunters, but found no trace of\nBright Robe. Passing on, he reached the land of the blubber-eaters,\nwhere the streams and lakes were already frozen. At last he happened\nupon the village which his enemy had so recently visited, and from\nwhich he had taken the furs. On learning what these people had to tell\nhim, he set out for the land of eternal winter, and for Bright Robe\u2019s\nlodge of ice.\n\nFor the time of two days and nights (though the sky changed not)\nWise-as-a-she-wolf ran straight on the frozen air, between the white\nfields and the ruddy north-lights. He was clothed in many garments of\nfur, for well did he know the cold of those regions, where only the\ngreat white wolves, that are the care of the northern gods, can live.\nHe had brought food, and he ate as he ran. The north-lights shook and\nclashed before him and above him, blew like flame to right and left\nand came crackling back again. He heard the hunting-cries of the white\nwolves, as they ran on a mad, age-old trail, the scent of which was\nnowhere but in their own blind souls. And when they passed beneath him,\nwhite as frost and death, he sprang upward between the curtains of the\nnorth-lights.\n\n[Illustration: \u201cTHEY PASSED BENEATH HIM, WHITE AS FROST AND DEATH.\u201d]\n\nHe came to the wall of ice, beyond which live the four gods of the\nnorth; and yet he had seen nothing of Bright Robe or his lodge. He did\nnot cross the wall, for he felt that his enemy was in no position to\ncourt the attention of the gods; and the cold gnawed him, and was like\nthe hand of death against his heart, so he turned and sped southward.\nAgain he hunted through the lands of the little fat men with smoky\nfaces, and among the lonely hunters, and westward even to the tribes\nwho wear crests of feathers that hang down their backs as far as\ntheir belts, and whose numbers are as a thousand times the numbers of\nthe islanders. Then his suspicions of the giants awoke again, and he\nreturned to their country and watched them narrowly. For three days he\nstudied them, and though he learned much of their savage natures and\nhuge appetites, he saw no signs of Bright Robe and nothing to indicate\nthat they knew anything of that vanished magician.\n\nAgain Wise-as-a-she-wolf visited Black Eagle; and now he sat in the\nbig lodge, and had the warriors brought together, to hear his talk.\nAnd while he sat among the great men of the tribe, a lad stole up to\nthe cave and warned Bright Robe that his enemy was in the village. So\nBright Robe, from well within the cave, lightened a great rock that\nlay without with his magic, and then told the lad to place it in the\nentrance, so that the cave would be hidden. The boy did as he was\ntold, and lifted the great stone into the mouth of the cave, much to\nhis own amazement. Then he went back to the village, thinking himself\na great magician. From within, Bright Robe returned its weight to the\nstone, and it filled the mouth of the cave as if it were a part of the\neverlasting foundation of the mountain. Then he retired by the back\nway, flew over the western cliff, and hid himself among tumbled granite\nboulders and clumps of spruce-tuck.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, seated at his ease in the chief\u2019s lodge, with the\nsavage warriors around him, took note of many things.\n\n\u201cThose are fine robes of fox-skins,\u201d said he, with his glance on one of\nthe articles of the fugitive magician\u2019s gift.\n\n\u201cMy people are great hunters,\u201d replied Black Eagle, calmly.\n\n\u201cAnd how is it that you are not hunting to-day?\u201d he asked, having seen\nall the warriors lolling about the village.\n\n\u201cThe mighty Wise One is interested in his humble servants,\u201d remarked\nBlack Eagle, staring haughtily at his unwelcome visitor.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf nodded, and met the other\u2019s gaze with severe eyes.\n\n\u201cThen it will grieve the Wise One to hear that our storehouses are well\nsupplied with food of other people\u2019s killing and curing,\u201d said the\nchief. \u201cThe good magician is a lover of peace; but we are fighting-men.\nAnd we make war when we please, and when the hunting is poor we take\nwhat we want from lesser tribes.\u201d\n\nHe spoke threateningly, and all his warriors glared at the quiet\nyouth in their midst, and laid their hands on their weapons. But\nWise-as-a-she-wolf lost nothing of his habitual composure.\n\n\u201cAs you are not of my people,\u201d he said, \u201cit is no affair of mine how\nyou fight, or how you fill your storehouses, so long as you do not slay\nor rob the clans of the island. In this matter of answering harmless\nquestions, however, I must beg you to assume a gentler manner. Though I\nam a hater of bloodshed and quick to forgive injury, yet I am sometimes\nmoved to sudden wrath.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy manners were never of the best, great chief,\u201d replied Black Eagle,\ncowed by the other\u2019s hinted threat. \u201cI am sorry that you are displeased\nwith me and my people, for I am ignorant of neither your power nor\nvirtue.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak fairly,\u201d replied the good magician; \u201cand I ask no more of\nthe chief of a savage and deceitful race. I have given my life\u2019s work\nto my own people, and still the blood-thirst and greed are strong\nin many of their hearts. I could do nothing inside the space of an\nhundred seasons to mend your ways save by slaying you, and I am not a\ngod, to judge if you are worthy to live or not.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak rashly, even for a mighty magician,\u201d said one of the\nwarriors. \u201cHere we sit around you, with our hands on our weapons, and\nyet you insult us at your pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear your weapons no more than twigs in the hands of children,\u201d\nreplied Wise-as-a-she-wolf, calmly. \u201cBut throw a club, or draw a knife,\nand your doom is upon you.\u201d\n\nThe warriors glanced at one another, impressed by their visitor\u2019s\nmanner and voice, and yet doubtful of the truth of his words. Magic was\na great thing, but muscles and clubs and weight of numbers were also\ngreat things. Black Eagle looked at them, and shook his head.\n\n\u201cHe speaks the truth,\u201d he murmured. Then, turning to the magician,\n\u201cWhat do you want of us, great chief?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI want you to tell me if you have seen anything of Bright Robe, who\nruns upon the air,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\n\u201cWe saw the figure of a warrior flying northward, many days ago, as I\ntold you before,\u201d replied the chief. \u201cDid you hear nothing of him,\namong the blubber-eaters?\u201d\n\n\u201cI heard of him from a village which he robbed,\u201d answered the magician.\n\nThen he arose, passed out of the lodge, and vanished in the sunlight.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX\n\nPEACE\n\n\nThe brief but sanguinary uprising of the clans was followed by nine\nyears of peace. Featherfoot spent a great deal of his time with his\nown people, and the rest of it in Wise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s service. He\ntravelled about the island, visiting the camps and villages, watchful\nfor any signs of uneasiness among the people. He continued to grow,\nboth mentally and physically, as he had begun in the magic lodge; and\nthough he was still without the red feathers, he had the silver robe\nwhich had once belonged to the evil magician, which his master had\ngiven him. He was of a kind and merry disposition, and wonderfully\nmodest for one so young and yet so powerful. The good magician had\npurged him of the selfish vanity of youth, without despoiling him of\nanything of the glory, romance, and faith of that brave season. So\nhis wisdom sat easily upon him, and he made friends at every fire.\nHe perfected himself in wood-craft and all manly sports, entering\nin friendly contest in the same, with the young men, on an equal\nfooting with them; for he considered his magic a thing to use only on\nneedful occasions, and not to display boastfully in the eyes of his\nfriends. His natural strength, and size of limb and bone, were already\nequal to those of a hardened and well-grown youth of sixteen years.\nHe was a great story-teller, a weaver of narratives that held his\nlisteners entranced; and he had learned a great deal of the master\u2019s\nskill in painting, and could mix pigments as bright as sunshine. With\nthese pigments he drew the portraits of his friends, and pictures of\ntheir deeds in the chase, on the dressed skins of caribou and seal.\nHis pleasant fame grew throughout the island until it came near to\nrivalling that of the good magician, Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\n\nDuring the nine years that followed the fighting among the clans,\nRun-all-day grew steadily in power, thanks to his honesty and\nenergy, his wife\u2019s sane counsel, and the especial friendship of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf. People gathered to him from the smaller villages,\nand strong chiefs and warriors took service with him, until his clan\nwas the largest and strongest in the island. His people were soon so\nnumerous that he had to establish a dozen villages, scattered over\na great region; and these villages were strongly situated, and each\ncommanded by a chief whom he trusted. He made laws, by which thieves\nand murderers were to be dealt with, and these were proclaimed in every\nvillage of his clan, after they had received the sanction of the good\nmagician. The chief of each village was judge of petty offences among\nhis own people; and if one man stole from another, the chief saw that\nhe either made good the amount of the theft by double its value, either\nin skins, provisions, or service, or left the village in disgrace. In\ncases of murder, Run-all-day delivered judgment, after hearing what the\nprisoner, and every one else concerned, had to say. There had been laws\nbefore, in the history of the island; but never before the same laws in\nforce over so large a territory, nor half the conscientiousness shown\nin their observance.\n\nThere were many who objected to this new order of things, maintaining\nthat every warrior had a right to settle his private affairs (even if\nthey included the braining of a fellow-villager or the stealing of\na few robes) without the interference of the chiefs. It was for the\ninjured parties themselves to retaliate, in the second case, and for\ntheir relatives, in the first, they said. What business the village\nchiefs, and Run-all-day, had to thrust their hands in such small\nmatters they could not see, at least for some time. But after a few of\nthese exponents of the Rights of Man had suffered death for slaying\npeople against whom they nursed private grudges, the complaints ceased,\nand the laws were respected.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf during this time was much abroad, searching the far\nplaces of the earth for his old enemy. Sometimes he felt that he was\nclose upon the flying heels of his quarry; for Bright Robe had made a\nlong journey southward, travelling always under cover of darkness, and\nhad proclaimed himself among many foreign people. Then he had returned\nto his friends the mountaineers, and continued quietly about his\naffairs.\n\nThe very nearness of Black Eagle\u2019s village to Wise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s\nown country was in its favour as a hiding-place. And now he did less\nplundering than of old, in spite of the complaints of the mountaineers,\nfor he wanted the tales of his depredations to fade from men\u2019s talk.\nWhen he did hunt, it was always far a-field, distant many nights\u2019\nflight from Black Eagle\u2019s village. And thus, by taking toll of the\ndistant tribes, flashing his name here and there in far countries, and\nletting the nearer people rest in peace and security, he set false\ntrails for his enemy to follow. His longest journey had extended even\nto the sea islands where it is always summer, and where tribes of\nstrange little people, with long tails and furred bodies, and the faces\nof old men, chatter in the tree-tops. There, also, are men of duskier\ncomplexions than the blubber-eaters, and hair as straight and black as\nthe mountaineers, who shape canoes out of great tree-trunks and make\nvoyages of several days\u2019 duration between island and island. To these\npeople he showed his magic, and told his name and a fine tale of how he\nintended to build a great lodge in some southern forest; and then he\nreturned, under cover of night, to his cave above Black Eagle\u2019s village.\n\nWhile the silent struggle of cunning went on between the two magicians,\nwith the whole world for their battleground, and in the ninth summer\nof peace among the islanders, young Featherfoot came to the village\nof Little Heron, in the secluded valley. When he told his name, he\nwas welcomed as a great chief, for his fame had travelled before him.\nLittle Heron led him to his own lodge, set the best of food before\nhim, and afterward begged him to tell one of his delightful stories. So\nthe youth told the story of the Crimson Wigwam, as he had heard it in\nhis own heart, and it sang with the adventures and happy emotions of\na young warrior and a maiden. As he talked, he felt the grave, bright\neyes of Star Flower, the chief\u2019s daughter, upon him, and his glance met\nhers, and lo, they both looked downward and the trend of Featherfoot\u2019s\nnarrative wavered for the space of a heart-beat.\n\nThe tale was well received by the chief and his wife and his old\nmother. Star Flower alone of the company did not lift her voice in\npraise; but her eyes again met those of the young chief, and were\nhidden again as swiftly by the dark lashes. After the evening meal, the\nentire village gathered about a great fire, and Featherfoot told the\nstories of the Wallet of Plenty, and the Magic of the Red Arrow; and\nthough he was but vaguely conscious of the acclamations of the hunters,\nhis eyes glanced frequently, yet furtively, toward Star Flower, reading\nthe shy signs of her approval with inward delight.\n\nFeatherfoot spent ten days in the village of Little Heron, and told\nstories, and painted wonderful pictures, and dreamed a glorious dream\nin his heart. Star Flower told him the magic of the whistle that had\nbeen given her by old Whispering Grass; how Wise-as-a-she-wolf had\ngiven it to the medicine-maker, and how its possessor, if in peril, had\nbut to sound a note on it and the good magician would hear, though he\nwere at the world\u2019s end, and would hasten to the rescue.\n\n\u201cI, too, would hear the sound, if you were in danger,\u201d replied the\nyouth.\n\nHe knew this was so, for his heart said it and his heart was never\nmistaken; but he believed that it was so because of his love for the\ngirl, and that it had nothing to do with the magic he had been taught\nby Wise-as-a-she-wolf. He told her how old Whispering Grass had saved\nhis life with her medicines, when he was a very little baby; and how\nhis father, Run-all-day, had made the journey to the old woman\u2019s lodge\nand home again on the red feathers,--all of which he had heard from his\nmother. In return, she told him of her childhood; and the old people\nwere quick to remark all this whispering, and meeting and beaming of\neyes, and nodded their heads wisely at one another. On the tenth day\nafter his arrival, Featherfoot left the village, to continue the work\nthat the master had given him to do.\n\n\u201cI shall return, when I have proved myself a strong warrior,\u201d he said\nto Little Heron.\n\nBut to Star Flower he whispered that he would return before the coming\nof another summer, whether men called him a strong warrior or no.\nAnd she blushed, and replied that indeed it would matter little what\nmen said of him who was already the greatest chief, and warrior, and\nmagician in the world.\n\nThe summer waned, and again the berries ripened on the barrens, the\nbirds took wing and the caribou moved to sheltered pastures; and\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, in whose heart a restless aching for new sights\nand adventures was ever present, left the island again and flew on the\nlong trails of the plover and snipe and honking geese. He had no fear\nfor Featherfoot\u2019s safety or for the welfare of the people in general,\nfor he knew that Run-all-day\u2019s clans would maintain order while he was\naway, and he did not think that Bright Robe was within thousands of\nmiles of his native place. In truth, he was beginning to hope that his\nenemy had either given up all thought of revenge, or suffered some new\nreverse of fortune. And yet, if such were the case, what had become\nof the red feathers? Perhaps he had met and been vanquished by some\nforeign magician. If so, the feathers should be easily found, for\nthe new owner would make use of them openly; and if he were not too\nstrong--but the good magician would follow the vague suppositions no\nfurther. The world held what he desired to know, and he was keen to\nread; and when the secret was disclosed would be the time to act.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf visited the islands of the southern seas, where\nfrosts and seasons of unfruitlessness are unknown, and there, for\nthe second time, found the false trail of Bright Robe. He journeyed\nwestward and southward, into a land of vast and tangled forests. In\nthose dark and stagnant places, lit only by the blooms of poisoned\nvines, and inscrutable as the heart of a god, a fugitive might well\nfind a secret dwelling. So thought the good magician; and after a day\u2019s\nflight above those millions and millions of crowded tree-tops, he felt\nthat here, if anywhere, was his enemy hidden. He descended through the\nroof of vivid, tangled green, and looked about him, somewhat daunted at\nthe gloom, the netted vegetation on all sides, and the strange noises\noverhead. \u201cA thousand thieves might hide securely for a thousand years\nin this jungle,\u201d he exclaimed, and felt a pang of hopelessness. He\nstood motionless for a little while, staring about him. Then, drawing\nhis axe of magic workmanship, he began to cut his way through the vines\nand creepers and smaller growth that surrounded him. Intent on his\nlabour, he relaxed that effort of will by which he made and maintained\nhis invisibility. He struck lustily, to right and left, advancing\nsteadily after every stroke. Already he felt in better spirits,\nreflecting that here would be found some great, new things to learn and\nunfamiliar aspects of truth, even if Bright Robe should continue to\nslip through his fingers. The fire of the explorer burned within him.\n\nFor never before, in all his wanderings, had he descended into these\nforests. He would pierce to the heart of this vivid, inscrutable\ncountry, and lay bare all its secrets.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX\n\nTHE POISONED DART\n\n\n\u201cHe felt a sudden pang, as of the touch of flame, in his arm. He reeled\nbackward, and at a glance discovered a tiny arrow of strange form,\nand no longer than a man\u2019s finger, embedded in the muscles below his\nshoulder. He plucked it out; and in the same instant of time made\nhimself invisible. Already a horrible madness was upon him, tearing at\nlimbs, and brain, and heart. The walls of living green billowed and\nspan around him.\n\n\u201cI am struck by magic,\u201d he cried; \u201cbut I, too, am a magician.\u201d\n\nHis voice sounded like the voice of a stranger. He saw grinning faces\non every side--green, grinning masks that mouthed and vanished and\nreturned. He sprang at them, striking with his magic axe, wrenching\nthem apart with hands that contained the strength of giants and the\nmadness of the poison in his blood. Something strangely familiar\ngot within his reach, something human of body, and armed with a long\nstick, and he snatched it, and broke it, and hurled it away among the\nreeling masks of green. Here was another. And here they ran like ants\nin a forest of moss, darting this way and that. He leaped upon them in\nhis madness, and crushed them. Again the faces swayed in upon him, and\nhe tore at them with all the strength of his magic and the blindness\nof his agony. He beat them back. He tore them, and struck them down.\nThen he turned and ran through a tide of leaping, bubbling green that\nwashed about him, and over him, with a pleasant music of waves. And so\nhe drowned, and yet resolved to fight on. And he looked up through the\nfathoms of green tide and had not the strength, nor the thought, to\nclose his eyelids. But his brave spirit, armed with all the magic he\nhad ever known, fought on, unbidden, to save the quiet body against the\npoison of the dart.\n\nOf a sudden, after what may have been an age of death or only a night\nof sleep, he sobbed his lungs full of air again like one who wins to\nthe surface of the water after a long dive. The blackness that had\nweighed upon him rolled away; and behold, the green tide was gone, and\nhe saw the open sky and felt a ruffling of wind on his face. \u201cI have\ntasted death,\u201d he murmured, \u201cand found it bitter in my soul, for all my\npower of magic.\u201d\n\nHe moved a little, turning on his left side, and his body was full of\ndarting pain. The dew of sweat broke out on him, streaming on brow and\nlimbs and breast. He saw that he had struggled from the jungle and now\nlay on a grassy hummock; but on all sides stood the hideous, green\nforest, as if waiting to engulf him again. He glanced at his right\narm, and saw a tiny ring of purple, hot and puckered, on the sunburned\nskin. Then he knew that it was poison, and not magic, that had leaped\nupon him, and filled him with madness and the pangs of death. Yet is\nnot poison a kind of magic, after all, compounded by the gods of hate,\nin the beginning of the world, such hidden death as Bright Robe would\nmake, if he were wise enough?\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf touched the grass near him in a dozen places, with\nhis left hand, starting a dozen little fires that weaved a tent of\nsmoke for protection from the sun. He took a leather bottle from his\nbelt and drank his fill of cool water; and no sooner had he withdrawn\nthe vessel from his lips than it was full again. But as he did not\npossess the Wallet of Plenty, he drew his magic hunger-belt tight.\nSo he lay until night, with the little fires burning around him, yet\nconsuming nothing, and the smoke of them shutting him in as with walls\nand roof. Strange and terrible sounds rang from the forest, but he gave\nsmall heed to them, knowing that neither weapon nor living body could\npass the thin boundaries of his circle of fires. His body ached and his\nbrain felt like a withered leaf in his skull. At last he sank into a\ntroubled sleep. Again the green faces mouthed at him; and he struggled\nwith sleep--or was it death?--and threw the monster off. After that he\nlay awake until sunrise, drinking frequently of the cool water.\n\nWhen the sun came up, throwing level shafts of gold across the walls of\nthe forest, a cool wind arose with it, bending the frailer tree-tops\nand washing the stagnant night from where he lay. There was a tang of\nsalt in the wind, and the good magician breathed it with thankfulness.\n\u201cI must get down to the sea,\u201d he murmured, \u201cand wash in the strong,\nsalt waters, and forget these tides of poisoned leaves.\u201d But when he\ntried to raise himself on his elbow, the pain of every bone and muscle\nwas so keen that he had to sink flat again. All that day, and for\ntwo days afterward, he fasted. But he drank the water from the magic\nbottle, without denying his thirst, and felt the poison weakening. On\nthe fourth morning he stood upright and sniffed the wind that swooped\nand baffled over the eastern wall of the forest. Though his head span\ndizzily, and horrible pains gripped him, he fastened the magic bottle\nto his belt, took up his weapons, and jumped feebly into the air. He\narose like a wounded bird, struggled crookedly and at last topped the\nbarrier of living, threatening green. In front, beyond miles of jungle,\nhe saw a thin line of crested, wind-bent palms, and further out, the\nhaze and glint of the sea. The clean, salt wind blew against him, and\nhe set his feet upon it and staggered forward. Sometimes he dropped so\nlow that his moccasins touched the massed foliage of the forest, that\nseemed to look upward, with smeared, uncertain faces, waiting for him;\nbut he arose again and again, with desperate efforts, and held on his\ncourse. At last he won to the fringe of palms, and fell to the white\nsand beside the crystal lip of the tide.\n\nThe good magician dwelt in the shade of the wind-bent palms for many\ndays, at first lying inactive, but soon going down to the water each\nmorning and evening to bathe. It was not a great while before he was\nstrong enough to kill a few of the fish that swam in those clear\nwaters, using one of his magic arrows for a spear. Between the beach\nof white sand and the outer sea-ways, lay a still lagoon, fenced by a\nreef that stood gleaming in the sun at the time of low water, and broke\nwhite and green with surf when the tide was high. In this sheltered\nwater Wise-as-a-she-wolf bathed without fear of treacherous currents\nand prowling monsters of the deep. Day by day the poison left him, the\npains became milder and less frequent in their attacks, and muscle and\nflesh regained a little of their old strength.\n\n\u201cIt is midwinter in my island now, and Featherfoot is telling stories\nat his father\u2019s fire, and my lodge is empty,\u201d said the good magician,\none morning. His heart was sore with homesickness; and his eyes were\nweary of the everlasting sunshine, the white surf and the green water;\nhis ears were tired of the continual rattling of the wind in the harsh\nleaves of the palms and his body was tired of its feebleness. Far to\nseaward, like a shadow of cloud on the horizon, lay an island, and\nhe resolved to fly to it, as soon as the heat of the day was spent,\nthereby to test his strength. By this time his head was steady, and he\ncould use all the joints of his body without more pain than a man would\nwince at. Also, he could walk quite briskly, for a short distance,\nwithout the aid of the magic moccasins.\n\nWhen the sun was touching the westward forests, Wise-as-a-she-wolf\ntightened the thongs of the moccasins of the wind, ran forward for a\nfew steps and sprang into the air. He crossed the lagoon, and the naked\nreef where the crabs scuttled heavily in the red light, and rose a\nlittle when he saw the outer waters heaving beneath him.\n\n\u201cIt is a long flight,\u201d he said. \u201cI must save my strength.\u201d And so he\nran cautiously, measuring every well-considered stride. Sometimes he\ntouched the smooth back of a billow, and not until then would he put\nforth fresh effort and rise a few yards in the air. He flew visibly, so\nas to have all his mind and energy in the flight. The island grew on\nthe darkling sea-rim. He glanced backward and saw the long coast of the\nmainland flat under the red sky. Beneath him swam a great shark, like\na shadow in the deep. He looked down on the dim shape of the fish, and\nknew why it cruised there, patient yet expectant.\n\n\u201cIt is but a short flight after all,\u201d he said, and laughed a little\nto feel so much of the old strength in his heart and legs. So he ran\nfaster, and saw that the wavering shape below also gathered speed. \u201cWe\nare all hunters or hunted,\u201d he mused. \u201cThe shark follows me, because\nof the poor flesh on my bones; and I follow Bright Robe because of the\nred feathers on his feet. Yes, and because he has injured my people\nand struck at my power. But if it were not for the feathers, I think I\nshould forsake this dreary quest.\u201d\n\nHe reached the island safely, just at the fall of the sudden night.\nHere, too, he found a white beach, the sand of which was still\npleasantly warm from the day-long heat of the sun. He was tired, so lit\nhis circle of magic fires immediately, and lay down. For three nights\nhe dreamed that his people needed him. \u201cIt is foolishness,\u201d he assured\nhimself. \u201cWhat can they want of me, now that they are at peace with\neach other, and ruled by wise heads and strong hands? The poison is\nfilling my brain with ugly dreams, in its last efforts to injure me.\u201d\nAnd on the second morning he told himself the same thing; but on the\nthird, his argument rang falsely to his heart. He went down to the\nsea, just at the rising of the sun, and splashed about in the crystal\nwater; but he could not clear his mind of his dream. He fished, cooked,\nand ate his breakfast, and retired into his tent of smoke; but still\nthe dream whispered within him. When the heat of the day was spent, he\nstarted northward, over the rocking sea.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s homeward journey proved to be both slow and\npainful. He was forced to rest many times, in many strange lands.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI\n\nTHE FREEZING OF THE NARROW SEA\n\n\nEvents had moved swiftly in the great northern island during\nWise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s absence.\n\nAs autumn stole over the forests and barrens, ripening, searing, and\nslaying, old men predicted a winter of more than usual severity. They\nread the signs in the moss, in the flight of certain fowl, in the fur\nand intestines of animals. Then came the frost, and gripped the island\nin an aching, relentless vise for ten days before the sky thickened to\nsnow. The snow fell steadily, for two days and two nights; and with\nthe passing of the frozen clouds came pitiless winds from the north,\nsweeping between the blue and the white. The snow, dry as dust, was\nblown into long ridges, and beaten to the firmness of packed sand, and\nbanked high against the lodges of men and the lairs of beasts.\n\nBeyond the Narrow Sea the mountaineers were called together, from their\nseveral villages, by Black Eagle. Bright Robe was summoned from his\nhiding-place, and took his seat on the chief\u2019s right hand.\n\n\u201cThis will be a hungry winter,\u201d said the chief. \u201cHunting will be\ndifficult, for the caribou have travelled far. Bright Robe will not be\nable to feed us all, for his heart has so softened of late, that he\nwill rob no village unless it be distant a three-days\u2019 journey.\u201d\n\nThe warriors grunted agreement to the chief\u2019s words, but the magician\nheld his peace and wondered what was in the other\u2019s mind.\n\n\u201cThe Narrow Sea is frozen,\u201d continued Black Eagle. \u201cA safe way leads\nto the island, where the warriors are feeble as old women and the\nstorehouses are full. We shall march across the frozen water and take\nthe richness of that old island.\u201d\n\nThe warriors shouted approval, for they loved easy fighting and full\nmeals.\n\n\u201cI do not advise it,\u201d said Bright Robe. \u201cWise-as-a-she-wolf would\nscatter and slay you with his magic.\u201d\n\nBlack Eagle looked at him with an evil smile.\n\n\u201cWith you on our side, why need we fear the magic of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf?\u201d he said. \u201cYou are the greatest magician in the\nworld. You are too modest, my friend, and have hidden so long in the\nmountains that you have forgotten your strength.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not fight the men of the great island,\u201d said Bright Robe.\n\n\u201cYou have the heart of a mouse,\u201d returned Black Eagle, with a smile\non his lips, but a gleam of rage in his eyes. \u201cIf you do not help us\nagainst the people of the island, then shall we sit peacefully here,\nwhile our swiftest runner carries word of you to Wise-as-a-she-wolf.\u201d\n\n\u201cUnless he is fleeter than the red feathers, he will not run very far,\u201d\nsaid Bright Robe, dangerously calm.\n\nThe chief glanced at him again. \u201cSo you have a little courage, after\nall,\u201d he cried, in feigned amazement. \u201cNo messenger will be sent,\u201d he\nadded, \u201cbut when next Wise-as-a-she-wolf comes to the village, he will\nbe told of how you have made such a fool of him.\u201d\n\nBright Robe moved uneasily, and his sinister eyes flashed over the\ncompany of squatting warriors. They were all armed with bows, clubs,\nand spears; but he knew that, by the help of his magic, he could\nscatter and slay them at but small risk to himself. What would the\nrouting of these people avail him, however? Word of the fight would\ntravel swiftly to the ears of his powerful enemy; and who would then\nhide him from that awful meeting with lies and cunning? He realized\nthat the time was not yet ripe for him to disagree too violently with\nBlack Eagle and his people.\n\n\u201cLet us not talk any longer like enemies and fools,\u201d he said. \u201cIt would\nbe useless for me to deny my fear of Wise-as-a-she-wolf, for you know\nwhat is in my heart concerning that bloodthirsty magician. But I will\nfirst cross to the island, to spy upon my enemy. It may be that he is\nfar away, hunting for me at the other end of the earth.\u201d\n\nBlack Eagle did not answer for a long time. At last he said, \u201cA swift\nrunner can go, and inquire of the villages on the coast as to the\nwhereabouts of the one you fear. Each way is but a half-day\u2019s journey\nfor a seasoned runner.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think, chief, that the villagers are more likely to kill your\nmessenger than to answer his questions,\u201d replied Bright Robe,\nsneeringly.\n\nBlack Eagle realized that it was now his turn to practise diplomacy. He\nknew that his only hold on the other was that evil magician\u2019s fear of\nWise-as-a-she-wolf. He did not think that Bright Robe would desert him,\nand all claim on future services, except in an extreme case; and he was\nsure that he would not try to make peace with his enemy by carrying\nword to him of the intended invasion, for Wise-as-a-she-wolf would not\nforget past injuries for so small a favour.\n\n\u201cGo, then,\u201d said the chief. \u201cWe will await your return.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be dark in a few hours, and then I will go,\u201d replied Bright\nRobe, with dignity.\n\nWhen he set out, through the starlight, for the land of his enemy,\nhis heart was torn with uncertainty as to how he should act in this\nunforeseen dilemma which the freezing of the Narrow Sea had forced upon\nhim. To openly assist the mountaineers against Wise-as-a-she-wolf\u2019s own\npeople, would be madness; to desert the men who had helped him deceive\nhis enemy for the past nine years would be as fatal in the end. His\nonly hope lay in the chance that the good magician might be far from\nhome, in which case he would help the mountaineers, unobtrusively,\nuntil they had fully committed themselves, and then flee under cover of\nnight. He reflected that, while Wise-as-a-she-wolf was busily engaged\nin punishing the men from beyond the Narrow Sea, he would have ample\ntime to find a new hiding-place, far, far away from the scenes of his\nfailures. Then he would get rid of the feathers in some way, and live\nquietly, relinquishing all hope of future greatness.\n\nWhen Bright Robe reached the coast of the island, he was still\nstruggling with the problem. The temptation to turn southward\nand continue his flight was almost too strong to resist; but the\nthought of how the mountaineers would explain to his enemy all his\nnine-year scheme of evasion, making similar practices useless in the\nfuture, daunted him afresh. For a moment his brain turned, in brief\nconsideration, on surrender. He would seek the just and angry magician\n(whose people he had so often despoiled and slain) and give him the\nfeathers, and confess his sins, and--and? Neither brain nor heart had\ncourage to answer the unasked question. His enemy was just--and what\nwas he to gain by surrendering himself to justice?\n\nBright Robe went dully about his work. He discovered a cluster of\nlodges, drifted deep in snow. He approached them, and raised a feeble\nvoice. \u201cI am cold, I am hungry,\u201d he cried. \u201cI have been lost in a\nstorm.\u201d\n\nA figure crawled from the nearest lodge. Bright Robe staggered forward\nand fell. Strong arms lifted him and carried him to warmth and shelter.\nHe was fed, and soft furs were laid over him, and all the while he\nplayed the part of one brought close to death by cold and exhaustion.\nHe spent several hours in the lodge, and learned from the honest fellow\nwhom he questioned that Wise-as-a-she-wolf had not been seen in the\nwestern villages since autumn. After learning this, he pretended to\nsleep; but he soon crawled from the lodge, leaving the hospitable,\nunsuspecting hunter snoring peacefully. He flew eastward and inland,\nnow with some assurance of spirit. The night had clouded, though it was\nstill bitterly cold. He found several villages in the darkness and, by\nusing the same tactics as before, learned again that the good magician\nhad not been seen for two moons. Then he faced westward again and ran\nat his best speed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nTHE INVASION OF THE ISLAND\n\n\nThe westward villages made but slight resistance to the mountaineers.\nThey were taken unawares, scattered blindly and many were slain. Some\nof the fugitives hid, and others ran to warn the nearer settlements.\nThe invaders travelled slowly, in spite of Bright Robe\u2019s efforts to\nhurry them, stopping to rest and feast in every village and encumbering\nthemselves with booty and prisoners. Their only prisoners were women.\nBright Robe did his share of the fighting, but was careful to make it\nno more than a man\u2019s share. He fought on the ground, like his fellows,\nand though he served as guide to the hidden encampments, he played an\ninconspicuous part. And so they raided, fought and feasted for three\ndays, hearing nothing in all that time of Wise-as-a-she-wolf. The main\nbody held straight to the eastward, and small companies branched off to\nthe north and south.\n\nOn the fourth day of the invasion the mountaineers reached a large\nvillage of deserted lodges. Even the storehouses were empty. The\ndisappointment angered them, and they pushed forward with more haste.\nFor three days they travelled, without finding anything of the\nislanders except tracks of their snow-shoes and their empty lodges. By\nthis time, Bright Robe had decided that he had mixed as deeply in the\ninvasion as was wise, and that nightfall should be the signal for his\nsouthward flight; for his old enemy, wherever he was wandering, would\nsurely take a hand in the game before long. But he said no word of this\nto Black Eagle.\n\n\u201cLet the fool suffer for his foolishness,\u201d he muttered.\n\nThe mountaineers were careless soldiers, and sent no scouts ahead of\ntheir army. \u201cWhat have we to fear from these men with the hearts of\nmice and the muscles of women?\u201d sneered Black Eagle. \u201cThey run before\nus, even before they see our spears. In a few days we will drive them\ninto the great salt water in the east.\u201d\n\nShortly after noon they reached another empty village. They rushed\ninto the lodges, shouted angrily, and fought among themselves for\nwhat little the departed inhabitants had left behind. The five hundred\nwarriors crowded into the open space, overturning the lodges, and\nreviling the islanders. Arrows leaped from the woods on every side. Two\nflights sprang forth and tasted blood before the mountaineers realized\nwhat had happened. Then they rallied and dashed for the hidden enemy.\nBlack Eagle turned furiously upon Bright Robe.\n\n\u201cYou have brought us to this trap,\u201d he cried, and struck at him with\nhis club. The blow fell harmlessly on the magician\u2019s shield; and in a\nsecond in the crush and tumult of the battle they were separated.\n\nMany of the mountaineers who advanced into the woods, to close with\nthe surrounding enemy, were swiftly forced back to the clearing. Blood\nmelted the snow, and contending warriors, with their racquets slipped\nor broken from their feet, struggled deep in the drifts, stabbing\nblindly. Shouts and cries of dismay rang up to the frozen sky. Men\nfought hand to hand, even breast to breast,--yes, and tooth to flesh.\nThe lodges were torn and overturned, and as more men continued to pour\ninto the clearing the snow was trampled hard as earth and crusted with\nfrozen blood.\n\nBright Robe dared not fly openly from the scene and yet he was eager\nto get away, fearing always the arrival of Wise-as-a-she-wolf. At last\nhe broke from the thick of the fight, hurling friend and foe alike\nfrom his path by means of his magic strength. Many sturdy strokes were\naimed at him, but his magic turned them all aside, and he won to the\nshelter of the forest without hurt. It was his intention to run to a\nsafe distance from the battle, hide until dark, and then take flight.\nHe ran straight through the woods, beating down the occasional warriors\nwho tried to bar his way. He had travelled nearly a mile, and was clear\nof the outskirts of the battle, when, in pausing for breath, he heard\nthe springing of parted branches close behind him. He turned with ready\nclub, but saw nothing.\n\n * * * * *\n\nI must turn back a little, and look at the fight from the islanders\u2019\nside of it.\n\nFrom the fugitives from the western villages word of the invasion\ntravelled quickly to the ears of Run-all-day. Swift runners were\nsent in every direction, to warn the clans of the danger and bid\nthem prepare to fight. The people of the villages which lay in Black\nEagle\u2019s course were told to fall back, with all their possessions,\nupon Run-all-day\u2019s country. Then Run-all-day divided his own warriors\nand the men who joined him from the other clans, into three bodies of\nabout four hundred men each. One of these armies, under Jumping Wolf,\nwas sent forward immediately to encounter the mountaineers on their\nprobable course. Another was hurried forward in the same direction, but\nseveral miles to the southward. The third was held in readiness near\nthe villages where the women and children and stores of the fugitives\nwere sheltered.\n\nJumping Wolf sent scouts in advance of the little army, to scour the\ncountry for miles. These scouts were not long in finding the invaders,\nand for a whole day before the attack the commander was constantly in\nreceipt of information concerning the approach of the enemy. He did not\nrush his men, but advanced at an easy pace, ever on the look-out for a\nsuitable position in which to stand and strike. When night fell, his\nmen ate the cooked food that they had brought, dug great trenches in\nthe snow, and slept without fires. Shortly before noon he arrived at a\nlarge, deserted village, and halted his men. A scout came running to\nhim.\n\n\u201cThey are close at hand,\u201d he said, \u201cand one who guides them is pointing\nthe way to this village.\u201d\n\nSo Jumping Wolf placed his eager warriors in the edge of the woods that\nsurrounded the clearing in which stood the empty lodges.\n\n\u201cNow is the time for you to put your magic to good use,\u201d he said, to\nFeatherfoot.\n\nBut the youth shook his head. \u201cUnless they have a magician among them,\nI shall not use my magic,\u201d he replied, placing a common arrow on the\nstring of his bow.\n\nThe islanders waited patiently, crouching on their thong-woven\nracquets, peering eagerly into the clearing. Their bows were strung and\nthe arrows were loose in their belts, and their hearts were hot for\nthe battle. At last the invaders appeared, dashing into the clearing\nand among the lodges in noisy disorder; and at the sight a thrill of\njoy and rage ran through the waiting islanders. The notches of arrows\nmet the taut strings; and still the chiefs crouched motionless, giving\nno sign. The place fairly squirmed with the shouting, dark-skinned\nmountaineers. Jumping Wolf raised his hand above his head; up went the\nhands of the other chiefs; out leaped the arrows upon the crowding,\nstruggling invaders. Again the bows were bent and released; and then\nthe islanders sprang to meet the rallying mountaineers, and struck with\nclubs and spears.\n\nIt was soon quite evident to Featherfoot that the Beothics had the\nupper hand in the engagement, though the invaders were the more\nnumerous. So he fell back from the struggle for a moment\u2019s rest.\nIn surveying the struggle from a vantage point at the edge of the\nclearing, his attention was attracted by a big stranger who fought\nfor the mountaineers and yet was lighter of skin. He saw this warrior\nsuddenly make his way out of the thick of the fight, dashing friend and\nfoe from his way with a strength that was more than human. He saw him\nwin, unhurt, to the edge of the clearing, and dart from sight among the\ntrees. \u201cHe fights with strong magic, and shields himself with magic,\u201d\nsaid Featherfoot, and immediately gave chase. As he ran among the\nsnatching, buffeting branches, he drew his most powerful arrow from his\nbelt, and pulled the silver robe above his head.\n\nFeatherfoot soon came in sight of the stranger. At the sound of\nhis approach the other turned; but the youth, knowing himself to be\ninvisible by virtue of the silver robe, halted and unhurriedly set the\nmagic arrow to the string of the magic bow. So great was the magic of\nthat arrow, that its weight became as the weight of a small mountain\nthe moment it hit its mark. There was no pity in Featherfoot\u2019s heart,\nfor he had seen the strange magician slay both friend and foe, with\nweapons from which they had no chance of escape; so he drew the bow\ncalmly and loosed the shaft. The stranger fell, staggered to his feet,\nstruck the arrow from his breast and leaped high above the tree-tops.\nThere he hung for a little, struggling desperately; but when another\narrow found him he dropped back to earth, turning over and over in\nhis fall. Featherfoot was upon him as soon as he touched the snow.\nKnowing now that the stranger was Bright Robe, he bound the nerveless\nlimbs with magic thongs that no giant could break. Then, undoing the\nmoccasins from the unresisting feet, he found the red feathers. Quick\nas thinking, they were transferred to his own moccasins, and his\nsnow-shoes were cast aside.\n\nNo sooner were the magic feathers in place against the soles of his\nfeet, than the shrill note of the whistle which old Whispering\nGrass had given to Star Flower sounded faintly but terrifically in\nFeatherfoot\u2019s ears. He sprang into the air and ran swiftly in the\ndirection of Little Heron\u2019s village, leaving the evil magician bound\nand unconscious on the snow.\n\nHe caught a blurred glimpse of the battle below, now scattered\nand abating in fury, but so dazed and breathless was he with the\nfrightful speed at which he rushed through the air, his eyes could not\ndistinguish friend from foe. But whatever the outcome of the battle, he\nhad heard the whistle and must answer the call. So he ran on, though\nhis brain reeled, and his eyes ached, and his breath was like ice and\nsmoke in his throat. Presently, as he became accustomed to the new\nmanner and rate of travelling, the sensations grew less painful. Soon\nhe was able to see clearly, and run steadily, and draw his breath with\ncomparative ease.\n\nSuddenly, as he raced along between the fading sky and the dimming\nwastes of the earth, he heard the whispering of flight beside him.\nThen he found that the silver robe had slipped from his head, and he\nsnatched at it with his left hand, to draw it into place.\n\n\u201cHold,\u201d cried the voice of Wise-as-a-she-wolf, close at his elbow.\n\n\u201cIt is I, Featherfoot,\u201d cried the youth in answer, desisting from his\nefforts to hide himself beneath the robe and at the same time returning\nhis club to his belt. At that, the good magician appeared close beside,\nand threw his arm about his neck.\n\n\u201cI had my axe raised to strike you, lad,\u201d he whispered. \u201cI thought my\nold enemy was in my power at last.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have wounded him and bound him, master,\u201d replied Featherfoot,\nbreathlessly. \u201cHe lies near Diving Beaver\u2019s village, where the warriors\nare still fighting. But I have heard the call of the whistle, master,\nand must hasten to answer it. Star Flower is in need of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo, my son. I, too, have heard the whistle. But now I will hasten\nto my warriors,\u201d said the good magician. And so they parted, between\nthe shadowy wilderness and the darkling sky, with no questions of the\nmonths of separation. Wise-as-a-she-wolf turned in the direction of\nDiving Beaver\u2019s encampment, and ran slowly on the icy currents of the\nwind. He was still weak with the poison of the little arrow, and felt\nthe weariness of the long flight which he had just made. He wondered\nto feel so little elation of spirit at the knowledge of Bright Robe\u2019s\ncapture. His thoughts were all of Featherfoot, who was as dear as a son\nto him. \u201cStar Flower, Star Flower,\u201d he repeated, and smiled pensively.\n\u201cWhoever this Star Flower is, and however she came to possess the\nwhistle, I think she will teach the lad a magic of which I have no\nmastery,\u201d he reflected. \u201cHe will build a lodge of bark and skins, and\nit will be more beautiful to his eyes than my great house in the pine\nwood, with its smokeless lamps and magic walls. He is young, and Youth\nis the greatest magician. He loves a woman, and that is the strongest\nmagic.\u201d Thus, with mingled tenderness and distress, he considered the\ncase of Featherfoot as he flew to the succour of his warriors.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII\n\nTHE RESCUE OF STAR FLOWER\n\n\nThe note of the whistle was not repeated; but Featherfoot ran straight\ntoward the village of Little Heron. The last red light of the short\nwinter day was fading below the west, when he reached the valley that\nhe knew and loved so well. He descended among the lodges. All was\nquiet. There was no light of cooking-fires, or sound of contented\nvoices. He glanced at the trampled snow under his feet, and beheld\na war-club with a splintered haft. And there, a step beyond, lay an\narrow, and there a dark stain melted into the snow. With a low cry of\nconsternation, he ran to the chief\u2019s lodge and peered within. It was\nempty, and even the furs were gone from the couches. He started to\nrun to the next lodge, but the dusk of night was deepening, and his\nfoot tripped in something and he fell heavily. He recovered himself\nquickly, and found that the thing over which he had stumbled was the\nlifeless body of Little Heron. Then he knew that it would be useless\nto look in the other lodges. He arose on the magic feathers and circled\nclose about the village. He found the corpses of warriors and old\nmen and boys, and even of old women. He flew in a wider circle, and\nyet a wider, swooping low to every open glade. Here and there lay\nthe cold bodies, now of a mountaineer, now of a villager whom he had\nknown, showing how in the unequal struggle they had scattered and how\nthe fugitives had been overtaken. Still he widened the circle of his\nflight. At last, away to the westward, he caught the glint of fire at\nthe base of a dark hill, and even as he swerved in his course, the\nlittle fire spark leaped to the flame of a comfortable fire. He swooped\nnearer, and peered out upon the scene from the cover of the tree-tops.\nThere were more than a dozen mountaineers, a few busy preparing food at\nthe newly kindled fire, the others lolling nearby on out-spread furs.\nIn the background a group of women were huddled, and their half-stifled\nsobbing came piteously to his ears. Featherfoot drew his club from his\nbelt, pulled the hood of the silver robe over his head, and soared\nnoiselessly from the tree-tops.\n\n\u201cHave no fear, Star Flower,\u201d he cried, and descended, like a hawk upon\nits prey. The first mountaineer to receive a blow of the club fell\nacross the fire, and lay there. Two more went down, with broken skulls,\nbefore any of them realized the danger. Ten of them reached the cover\nof the woods, which proved no protection at all. Six gained a distance\nof several hundred yards from the fire, before the invisible death\novertook them. Three won half-way up the hill, but none reached the\ntop. Then Featherfoot returned to the camping-place, plucked the body\nfrom the fire and threw it into the bushes, loosed the thongs that\nbound the women and clasped Star Flower in his arms. She made frantic\nefforts to free herself from his embrace, and the other women and girls\nscreamed and gazed wildly around.\n\n\u201cIt is I, Featherfoot,\u201d whispered the bewildered youth, still holding\nher firmly.\n\n\u201cI cannot see you,\u201d she cried. \u201cIt is the voice of Featherfoot, but--\u201d\n\nThe youth dropped his arms from her slender body, tore the silver robe\nfrom his head and shoulders and tossed it on the snow. Then he turned\nback to Star Flower, smiling. The other women drew nearer, and ceased\ntheir screaming.\n\n\u201cYes, it is the young chief who drew the beautiful pictures,\u201d said one.\n\u201cIt is the great story-teller,\u201d said another.\n\nStar Flower stepped close to him, clasped her little hands behind his\nneck and hid her face in the furs on his breast.\n\n\u201cOh, I was not sure,\u201d she whispered. \u201cIt was your voice; but I heard\nthe rushing of winged feet, and saw the savage warriors run and fall\nbefore no visible danger. I thought the good magician had answered the\ncall of the whistle.\u201d\n\nThen Featherfoot laughed softly, and held her close, and in his heart\nhe pitied his friend and master, the greatest magician in the world.\nAnd as for the good red feathers, he forgot all about them.\n\n\u201cFear nothing,\u201d he said, tenderly and joyfully. \u201cYour lover answered\nthe call, and love winged his feet.\u201d\n\nHail, Youth, speaking such truth through very inexactness and the\nvagueness of dreams. Hail, Love, who sees so far and so clearly through\nglory-blinded eyes.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIV\n\nREST\n\n\nThe good magician found his old enemy bleeding in the snow, and bound\nby thongs magic-strengthened, which he was powerless to break in\nhis weakened condition. Having seen that the enemy was broken and\nscattered, and that every mountaineer ran, inspired by no purpose\nexcept the saving of his own life, he lifted Bright Robe in his arms\nand carried him into one of the few lodges that remained standing. He\nloosened the thongs and poured water between the swollen lips.\n\n\u201cWhat now?\u201d asked Bright Robe, with the courage of despair.\n\nFor a little while the good magician sat silent, in the darkness, as if\nhe had not heard.\n\n\u201cThough I defeated you before, and loosed you in the wilderness in the\nshape of a little owl,\u201d he said, at last, \u201cyet you outwitted me at the\nend of the five years. And though your magic possessed but half its\nformer strength when you regained your old shape, yet you managed to\nhide from me for nine years and have led invaders into my country. Now,\neven were I to let you go away without punishment, your strength would\nbe no more than that of the least of the magicians, for magic is a\nthing that weakens under defeat. It is a vanity, failing in adversity,\nbut growing ever stronger and more vain with success. By it, one may\nwin fear, and if he uses it for the protection of his people, it brings\nhim respect and friendship; but the greatest magician cannot win love\nby his magic.\u201d\n\nBright Robe lay very still, listening and wondering. \u201cI have no fear of\nyou,\u201d continued Wise-as-a-she-wolf, \u201cand, seeing you bleeding there,\noverthrown in your evil doing by a lad whom I love, I find but little\nhate of you in my heart. You must live for ever, in weakness or in\nstrength, in wickedness or in virtue, even as I, and that is punishment\nbeyond any man\u2019s deserving.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, chief. If the water of everlasting life were held to my lips\nagain, how gladly would I spill it on the ground,\u201d said Bright Robe.\n\n\u201cAnd yet we fought and bled, suffered weariness and cold and\nloneliness, to win that drink,\u201d replied the good magician.\n\n\u201cI left a woman and child--a child of my blood--to starve in an empty\nlodge, that I might drink of that accursed water,\u201d whispered Bright\nRobe. \u201cStrike me, old enemy,\u201d he cried. \u201cBeat me to nothingness. I\nwould go, even now, and make my peace with those two.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour spirit would still be bound to this old earth,\u201d replied\nWise-as-a-she-wolf, \u201cthough I should strike with all my magic and\nscatter your body to the winds.\u201d\n\nFor a long time they sat silent in the darkness of the lodges. It was\nBright Robe who spoke first.\n\n\u201cI, too, have lost fear,\u201d he said, \u201cthough I have been a coward at\nheart since my mother bore me. For nine years I have been no better\nthan a slave of Black Eagle\u2019s, because of fear. Fear of you, and fear\nof the shadow in my heart, have driven me so hard that even the thirst\nfor blood is dead in me and I have no more desire for evil power. I\ncare not what you do with me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen you recover from your wounds,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf, \u201cI fear\nyou will thirst again for power and blood and mischief. But I pity you,\nBright Robe, for the age of sleeping and waking and remembrance that\nare before you. So I will deal with you as mercifully as I may.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no more lust of life in me. You cannot give me death. Then\nwhat do I care how you deal with me?\u201d said Bright Robe.\n\nFor two days the hunting and slaying of the mountaineers by the\nislanders continued, and not one of those savage invaders returned to\nhis own country. But as the cold continued as intense as ever, and it\nwas thought that the ice would remain in the Narrow Sea until spring,\nJumping Wolf marched his men westward and encamped them on the coast.\nWise-as-a-she-wolf took word of the victory to Run-all-day, and was so\ncordially received by that honest chief and his family that his heart\nlightened. He had brought the wounded Bright Robe with him, and he told\nRun-all-day of Featherfoot\u2019s encounter with, and overthrow of, that\nmagician. Also, he narrated his own adventures in the south; and the\nchief growled with rage when he heard of the little arrow tipped with\npoison.\n\n\u201cNow you may rest, master, since your enemy is delivered into your\nhands,\u201d said Run-all-day. \u201cOur people are strong now, and live under\nthe laws, and even the southward clans are at peace with their\nneighbours. So surely the time has come for you to rest, master.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have one more journey to make,\u201d replied the good magician. \u201cOne more\nlong journey to the southward, and then I will lay aside the moccasins\nof the wind, and sit at home and help you in your wise government of\nthe people.\u201d\n\nThe chief looked at him in wonder.\n\n\u201cHelp me!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cWhy, master, I am your servant, though the\nstrongest chief in the island. Whatever I have done for the good of\nthe people has been through your friendship and guidance. Yes, and in\nlittle matters, Red Willow has given good counsel.\u201d\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf looked at the woman, who sat nearby, with downcast\neyes.\n\n\u201cYour magic is greater than mine,\u201d he said.\n\nShe raised her eyes and looked at him--at the strongest of magicians,\nwith something of motherly tenderness.\n\n\u201cTo fill a heart, even one heart, with love and trust, is a greater\nmatter than flying through the air,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cYou are loved. You are called the good magician,\u201d replied Red Willow.\n\n\u201cAnd I am feared,\u201d said Wise-as-a-she-wolf. \u201cYes, I am feared, even by\nthose who think of me most kindly. But the time was when--\u201d\n\nThey waited, gazing upon their guest.\n\n\u201cWe are listening, master,\u201d said the chief.\n\n\u201cI have forgotten it,\u201d answered the other. \u201cIt was nothing. But I, too,\nwas once young and the chief of a village.\u201d\n\nWhen Bright Robe had nearly recovered from his wounds,\nWise-as-a-she-wolf bound him with thongs, lifted him in his arms, and\nflew southward. Night and day, the good magician ran above the sea,\nand many lands glimmered into his vision and faded again. At last he\ndescended to the beach of an island, where mountains towered high,\nrobed in green to their summits. Between the white beaches and the\nclimbing slopes stood hundreds of cocoanut trees, their long stems\nbent and their crests for ever shaken by the wind. The music of the\nsurf drummed around the island, day and night, night and day. Birds of\nbright plumage and harsh voices flew above the hillside forests. No\nother land was to be seen from any point of this island, but everywhere\nthe uneasy ocean and the straight horizon.\n\nWise-as-a-she-wolf broke the thongs from Bright Robe\u2019s limbs. \u201cHere you\nwill find food and drink and shelter,\u201d he said, \u201cand somewhere on the\nmountain is a small stream that flows with the water of forgetfulness.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you drunk of that stream?\u201d asked Bright Robe.\n\n\u201cNo. There are things that I do not wish to forget,\u201d replied the other.\n\nBright Robe looked at the sea, and the windy palms, and the towering\nmountains. A shadow stole across his keen eyes.\n\n\u201cAnd this--for ever,\u201d he whispered.\n\n\u201cIf you drink often enough of the water of forgetfulness,\u201d said the\ngood magician, \u201cthen life will stretch no farther than from day to day.\u201d\n\nHe turned, hesitated, then faced the motionless Bright Robe again.\n\n\u201cThere is a village beyond the mountain. Be wise, for I do not forget.\u201d\n\nThen he sprang high into the blustering wind.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\n Selections from\n The Page Company\u2019s\n Books for Young People\n\n\nTHE BLUE BONNET SERIES\n\n _Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50\n\n\nA TEXAS BLUE BONNET\n By CAROLINE E. JACOBS.\n\n\u201cThe book\u2019s heroine, Blue Bonnet, has the very finest kind of\nwholesome, honest, lively girlishness.\u201d--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._\n\n\nBLUE BONNET\u2019S RANCH PARTY\n By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND EDYTH ELLERBECK READ.\n\n\u201cA healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every chapter.\u201d--_Boston\nTranscript._\n\n\nBLUE BONNET IN BOSTON; OR, BOARDING-SCHOOL DAYS AT MISS NORTH\u2019S.\n By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND LELA HORN RICHARDS.\n\n\u201cIt is bound to become popular because of its wholesomeness and its\nmany human touches.\u201d--_Boston Globe._\n\n\nBLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE; OR, THE NEW HOME IN THE EAST.\n By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND LELA HORN RICHARDS.\n\n\u201cIt cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their teens.\u201d--_New\nYork Sun._\n\n\nBLUE BONNET--D\u00c9BUTANTE\n By LELA HORN RICHARDS.\n\nAn interesting picture of the unfolding of life for Blue Bonnet.\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES\n\nBy HARRISON ADAMS\n\n _Each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.25\n\n\nTHE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; OR, CLEARING THE WILDERNESS.\n\n\u201cSuch books as this are an admirable means of stimulating among the\nyoung Americans of to-day interest in the story of their pioneer\nancestors and the early days of the Republic.\u201d--_Boston Globe._\n\n\nTHE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES; OR, ON THE TRAIL OF THE IROQUOIS.\n\n\u201cThe recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not only\ninteresting but instructive as well and shows the sterling\ntype of character which these days of self-reliance and trial\nproduced.\u201d--_American Tourist, Chicago._\n\n\nTHE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI; OR, THE HOMESTEAD IN THE WILDERNESS.\n\n\u201cThe story is told with spirit, and is full of adventure.\u201d--_New York\nSun._\n\n\nTHE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI; OR, IN THE COUNTRY OF THE SIOUX.\n\n\u201cVivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic situations,\ntrue to historic perspective, this story is a capital one for\nboys.\u201d--_Watchman Examiner, New York City._\n\n\nTHE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOWSTONE; OR, LOST IN THE LAND OF WONDERS.\n\n\u201cThere is plenty of lively adventure and action and the story is well\ntold.\u201d--_Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn._\n\n\nTHE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA; OR, IN THE WILDERNESS OF THE GREAT\n NORTHWEST.\n\n\u201cThe story is full of spirited action and contains much valuable\nhistorical information.\u201d--_Boston Herald._\n\n\n\n\nTHE HADLEY HALL SERIES\n\nBy LOUISE M. BREITENBACH\n\n _Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50\n\n\nALMA AT HADLEY HALL\n\n\u201cThe author is to be congratulated on having written such an appealing\nbook for girls.\u201d--_Detroit Free Press._\n\n\nALMA\u2019S SOPHOMORE YEAR\n\n\u201cIt cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good things in girls\u2019\nbooks.\u201d--_Boston Herald._\n\n\nALMA\u2019S JUNIOR YEAR\n\n\u201cThe diverse characters in the boarding-school are strongly drawn,\nthe incidents are well developed and the action is never dull.\u201d--_The\nBoston Herald._\n\n\nALMA\u2019S SENIOR YEAR\n\n\u201cIncident abounds in all of Miss Breitenbach\u2019s stories and a healthy,\nnatural atmosphere breathes from every chapter.\u201d--_Boston Transcript._\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES\n\nBy HARRIET LUMMIS SMITH\n\n _Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50\n\n\nTHE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE\n\n\u201cA book sure to please girl readers, for the author seems to understand\nperfectly the girl character.\u201d--_Boston Globe._\n\n\nPEGGY RAYMOND\u2019S VACATION\n\n\u201cIt is a wholesome, hearty story.\u201d--_Utica Observer._\n\n\nPEGGY RAYMOND\u2019S SCHOOL DAYS\n\nThe book is delightfully written, and contains lots of exciting\nincidents.\n\n\n\n\nFAMOUS LEADERS SERIES\n\nBy CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON\n\n _Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50\n\n\nFAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS\n\n\u201cMore of such books should be written, books that acquaint young\nreaders with historical personages in a pleasant, informal way.\u201d--_New\nYork Sun._\n\n\u201cIt is a book that will stir the heart of every boy and will prove\ninteresting as well to the adults.\u201d--_Lawrence Daily World._\n\n\nFAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS\n\n\u201cMr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, and his relation\nof battles, sieges and struggles of these famous Indians with the\nwhites for the possession of America is a worthy addition to United\nStates History.\u201d--_New York Marine Journal._\n\n\nFAMOUS SCOUTS\n\n\u201cIt is the kind of a book that will have a great fascination for boys\nand young men, and while it entertains them it will also present\nvaluable information in regard to those who have left their impress\nupon the history of the country.\u201d--_The New London Day._\n\n\nFAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA\n\n\u201cThe tales are more than merely interesting; they are entrancing,\nstirring the blood with thrilling force and bringing new zest to the\nnever-ending interest in the dramas of the sea.\u201d--_The Pittsburgh Post._\n\n\nFAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES OF THE BORDER\n\n\u201cThe accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly readable,\nmaking a book of wide appeal to all who love the history of actual\nadventure.\u201d--_Cleveland Leader._\n\n\nFAMOUS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS OF AMERICA\n\n\u201cThe book is an epitome of some of the wildest and bravest adventures\nof which the world has known and of discoveries which have changed the\nface of the old world as well as of the new.\u201d--_Brooklyn Daily Eagle._\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES:\n\n\n Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.\n\n Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.\n\n Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.\n\n Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.\n\n New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the\n public domain.","title":"The red feathers : $b A story of remarkable adventures when the world was young","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":65787}