Land of Sunset was
before him; nor yet had found the object of his heart's desire. And why?
because he had gone the wrong course and the wrong speed to keep himself
in the right light for the long shadow. Suddenly, to his astonishment,
he found himself once more at the self-same spot whence, but the day
just gone, he had set out on his wilder than a wild goose chase; and
there was the Manitou waiting for him, who, with a twinkling smile,
said:

"'Boy, have you found your shadow?'

"The poor shadow-hunter pointed to the insignificant figure he still
made on the earth and remained silent.

"'Foolish youth!' exclaimed the Manitou, 'had you but been content to
remain where you were and abide your time, you would have found your
shadow, not only at sunset, but also at sunrise; and little enough worth
the seeking at that! Thus, have you cheated yourself of your happiness
twice from being unwilling to wait for it once!'"

No! Poor Sprigg never once thought of Little Winged Moccasin.

CHAPTER VII.

Met--and Only His Shadow to Be Seen.

Sprigg ran for more than a mile with all his might, and was astonished
to find he was not in the least degree weary or short of breath. Then he
thought it must be the moccasins making his feet so light, and little
dreamed he how swift; and he was all the more certain that they would
carry him straight to grandpap's house, as they, or the voice, or his
own heart--it were hard to say which--had promised. With this discovery,
he need have no fear of now being overtaken and carried back home before
he had made his way to the fort; and, once there, fairly nestled under
grandmam's wing. He well knew from pet-boy experience he could spin out
his visit until it should please him to remount Shank's mare and trot
back home of his own free will. His mind thus eased from the
apprehension of pursuit, there was nothing to hinder him now, even while
moving so swiftly along, from feasting his eyes on his beautiful
moccasins--so red, so light, so fleet--so brave with their glittering
beads.

The light-footed fawns were skipping, like lambs, in the sunlit glades
of the forest. The glad-voiced birdlings were singing, for joy of the
summer, in every tree. The bright-eyed flowerets were smiling in every
sunny spot by the wayside, and doing their utmost to make the wilderness
lovely. But the flowerets might smile, and the birdlings sing, and the
fawns, like lambkins, skip--they skipped and sang and