r glossy breasts upon the gentle rippling wave.

"Here, children," boasted an old Drake, "is the very spot where your
father was charged upon last autumn by a cruel Falcon! I can tell you
that it took all my skill and quickness in dodging to save my life. Best
of all, our fierce enemy dropped to the ground with a broken wing!
Doubtless he is long since dead of starvation, or else a Fox or a Mink
has made a meal of the wicked creature!"

By these words the Falcon knew his old enemy, and his courage returned.

"Nevertheless, I am still here!" he exclaimed, and darted like a flash
upon the unsuspecting old Drake, who was resting and telling of his
exploit and narrow escape with the greatest pride and satisfaction.

"Honk! honk!" screamed all the Ducks, and they scattered and whirled
upward like the dead leaves in autumn; but the Falcon with sure aim
selected the old Drake and gave swift chase. Round and round in dizzy
spirals they swung together, till with a quick spurt the Falcon struck
the shining, outstretched neck of the other, and snapped it with one
powerful blow of his reunited wing.

_Do not exult too soon; nor is it wise to tell of your brave deeds
within the hearing of your enemy._

SIXTH EVENING

THE RACCOON AND THE BEE-TREE

SIXTH EVENING

"Ho, Chatanna," says the old story-teller, pleasantly, "I see that you
have brought Mato, the Bear, with you to-night! I hope he will be good
and not disturb the other scholars."

"Grandfather," says Chatanna, earnestly, "he will be good. He obeys me,
and is never troublesome like some pets. He will lie quietly here by me
and listen to the story!"

All the children range themselves around the brightly burning fire, the
little boys sitting cross-legged, and the girls sideways, like demure
little women.

Although they do not know it yet, there is a special treat in store for
them all this evening. The story is one in which feasting plays a part,
and whenever good things to eat come into a story, it is a pleasant
custom of the Sioux to offer some delicacy.

The good old wife of the teacher has prepared a kettle full of her
choicest wild rice, dark in color but of a flavor to be remembered, and
a generous dish of boiled rice sprinkled with maple-sugar is passed to
each child, (and doubtless shared with Mato by his loving friend,) at
the close of the story about

THE RACCOON AND THE BEE-TREE

The Raccoon had been asleep all day in the snug hollow