my feet, and his head
was of the size of the head of a small dog, and similarly shaped. His
eyes were red as the leaf of the maple in autumn; his skin was green
as the bosom of the meadow in spring; yellow hair, as coarse as
rock-moss, fell over his shoulders; and his nose was turned up till it
reached his forehead; his ears were scarce larger than a man's
thumb-nail, and his mouth than the blade of a pipe. It would have been
a matter of wonder with the Nanticoke, how he could get the victuals
into such a little mouth, if he had not been employed in noting the
odd actions of the strange creature, and in listening to the tones of
his voice, which resembled those of a cat when you tread upon its
tail.

"Who are you!" asked the strange creature, and then gave a jump,
turning himself head over heels, and stood upon his feet as before.

"I am a Nanticoke--one of the six who found themselves, in the morning
of a clear day, in the Frog-Moon, standing upon the shores of the
Great Lake, in the country where we have built cabins, and planted
corn and tobacco. We know not how we were carried thither. We were,
when we first knew we were--that is all we know. And who are you?"

"And that is as much as anybody knows," squeaked, or rather snarled,
the strange creature, and again he took his tumble. "Wherever you came
from, you seem a fine fellow, and I don't doubt wish for a wife. Come,
go home with me. I live in a cave, in the hill close by, and will give
you some fine fat toads, stewed with greens, for supper--or, if you
like better, you shall have a roasted rabbit. As to who I am, I don't
know myself. I only know that I am an odd sort of a fish."

The Nanticoke, who had not tasted food for many days, liked the offer
of the rabbit very well, though he felt no relish for the stewed
toads. So he went home with the strange creature to his dwelling in
the hill. When they came to the the door of the cabin, the creature
gave a knock with his foot, when the door was opened by a creature,
stranger, if possible, than that which had conducted him to the cave.
Upon entering, he beheld, scattered about the floor, a great many
little children, quite as ugly and misshapen as the parents. Here lay
one with a large leg and a little one, a full arm and a shrunken one,
one-handed, or one-footed, or one-eyed. One had no hair: one was
completely enveloped in it--in truth, the shapes were most various and
singular. But all were not thus. Upon a benc