eard the
far-off, musical sound of girls' laughter from the depths of the forest.
He turned in the direction of the sound and soon came upon a broad
trail, which he followed until he was overtaken by nine young men, all
running eagerly along the same trail.

They at once made him join their company, saying that they had needed
just one more to complete their number. The ten hastened on, and
presently they overtook ten beautiful young damsels. Night fell, and
they all went into camp together on the shore of the great lake.

The girls were very friendly and chatted pleasantly with the young men
during the evening, until each party retired to sleep under a hurriedly
made arbor of green boughs.

Very early in the morning the youths awoke; but lo! their companions had
vanished, and they could see only the flash of a distant paddle where
lake met sky at the far-off horizon line.

[Illustration: SHE TOOK UP HANDSFUL OF ASHES TO THROW INTO THEIR FACES.

_Page 227_]

There was no boat, and they were about to go back in despair, when the
young man who had last joined the party spied a little mussel shell at
the edge of the water, and invited them to step in. At first they were
doubtful and hung back; but in the end one ventured and stepped into the
shell, which bore up his weight. Then another and another followed,
until the ten men stood upon the shell, which had become a fine large
canoe, and carried them all in safety to the opposite shore.

There they beheld the great white wigwam in which dwelt the ten virgins
with their grandmother, who was a wicked old witch.

As soon as she saw the young men she took up handfuls of ashes to throw
into their faces, and one after another fell senseless at her feet.

Last of all came the fortunate younger brother. He had borrowed the
weapons of the old man with whom he lived, and it chanced that this man
was a greater wonder-worker even than the witch. Therefore he had merely
turned toward her his magic shield to keep off the shower of ashes, when
the old woman lost all her power to hurt, and at once each lusty young
man sprang quickly up to claim his bride.

TWENTY-SIXTH EVENING

THE MAGIC ARROWS

TWENTY-SIXTH EVENING

The wise and old heads among the Indians love children's company, and
none is more sorry than Smoky Day when the village breaks up for the
spring hunt, and story-telling is over for the season.

"I hope," he says kindly, "that you have listened