down close together and looked up at the stars.

"I love you, my brave Fir Tree," said Willow Wand.

Fir Tree put his arm about her. "And I love you, my little Willow Wand,"
he said. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world. I would not have
you like the rest. They are good; they grind the corn; they do the work,
but their faces are like stones. Yours is full of secrets and lovely
memories. What makes you so different, my love?"

"My secret, Fir Tree. My father says that a woman's secret is her
beauty."

"But a woman must tell her secret to her love," and Fir Tree looked off
into the distance.

"Willow Wand must not tell her secret even to her love," she said very,
very softly.

"You cannot trust me nor love me then, Willow Wand," said Fir Tree,
growing stiff and cold.

"I love you, Fir Tree. I will tell you my secret."

Fir Tree continued to look off in the darkness, but he bent his head a
little so that he might not miss anything she said.

"One night, long ago, I sat out in the evening like this with my father.
'Father, I want to shoot your bow, your smallest bow,' I said. 'You
haven't the strength to draw it, even my smallest bow, little Willow
Wand,' he said. 'Oh, but I have. I have tried it,' and I ran into the tent
and brought the little bow with the red bear painted on it. 'See, I shall
shoot that star, the red one there.' I pulled the string and the arrow
was off. We waited to hear it fall. 'It takes a long time to reach the
stars,' I said. Just then there was a splash in the jar by the tepee door.
'There it is,' said my father, 'your star has fallen into the rain jar.'

"I looked, and, sure enough, there was the little red star, lying on the
bottom of the crock, and shining so brightly that we could see it through
the water. 'My star!' I said. 'We shall always keep it here, my father. I
brought it down with my arrow.'

"The next day my father took me hunting, and he gave orders that that jar
was never to be moved from beside his door until I should leave him, and
then it was to go with me. And always he has kept fresh water from the
spring in the jar. See, he has brought it up here beside your tepee that
it would be waiting for me. Yes, my Fir Tree, see, here is my own star
still shining brightly--more brightly to-night because of my great
happiness with you."

"Dear little Willow Wand, what a beautiful child you are," said Fir Tree,
and he brushed back her black hair and looked into her ey