hem, and left them in their crushed boats to drift southward, and
to taste salt water. They will never return to Bear's Island."

"So you have done mischief," said the mother of the Winds.

"I shall leave others to tell the good I have done," he replied.
"But here comes my brother from the West; I like him best of all,
for he has the smell of the sea about him, and brings in a cold, fresh
air as he enters."

"Is that the little Zephyr?" asked the prince.

"Yes, it is the little Zephyr," said the old woman; "but he is not
little now. In years gone by he was a beautiful boy; now that is all
past."

He came in, looking like a wild man, and he wore a slouched hat to
protect his head from injury. In his hand he carried a club, cut
from a mahogany tree in the American forests, not a trifle to carry.

"Whence do you come?" asked the mother.

"I come from the wilds of the forests, where the thorny brambles
form thick hedges between the trees; where the water-snake lies in the
wet grass, and mankind seem to be unknown."

"What were you doing there?"

"I looked into the deep river, and saw it rushing down from the
rocks. The water drops mounted to the clouds and glittered in the
rainbow. I saw the wild buffalo swimming in the river, but the
strong tide carried him away amidst a flock of wild ducks, which
flew into the air as the waters dashed onwards, leaving the buffalo to
be hurled over the waterfall. This pleased me; so I raised a storm,
which rooted up old trees, and sent them floating down the river."

"And what else have you done?" asked the old woman.

"I have rushed wildly across the savannahs; I have stroked the
wild horses, and shaken the cocoa-nuts from the trees. Yes, I have
many stories to relate; but I need not tell everything I know. You
know it all very well, don't you, old lady?" And he kissed his
mother so roughly, that she nearly fell backwards. Oh, he was, indeed,
a wild fellow.

Now in came the South Wind, with a turban and a flowing Bedouin
cloak.

"How cold it is here!" said he, throwing more wood on the fire.
"It is easy to feel that the North Wind has arrived here before me."

"Why it is hot enough here to roast a bear," said the North Wind.

"You are a bear yourself," said the other.

"Do you want to be put in the sack, both of you?" said the old
woman. "Sit down, now, on that stone, yonder, and tell me where you
have been."

"In Africa, mother. I went out with the Hottentots, who w