rt felt fear for the first time; but
at last, after a long search, Mudjekeewis heard a sound like far-off
thunder, that rose and fell and rose again until the echoes all around
were rumbling, and he knew the sound to be the heavy breathing of the
giant bear, who slept. Softly Mudjekeewis stole upon him.

The great bear was sprawled upon the mountain, so huge that his
fore-quarters rose above the tallest boulders, and on his rough and
wrinkled hide the belt of wampum shone like a string of jewels. Still he
slept; and Mudjekeewis, almost frightened by the long red talons and the
mighty arms and fore-paws of the monster, drew the shining wampum softly
over the closed eyes and over the grim muzzle of the bear, whose heavy
breathing was hot upon his hands.

Then Mudjekeewis gripped his club and swung it high above his head,
shouting his war-cry in a terrible voice, and he struck the great bear
on the forehead a blow that would have split the rocks on which the
monster slept. The great bear rose and staggered forward, but his senses
reeled and his legs trembled beneath him. Stunned, he sat upon his
haunches, and from his mighty chest and throat came a little whimpering
cry like the crying of a woman. Mudjekeewis laughed at the great bear,
and raising his war-club once again, he broke the great bear's skull as
ice is broken in winter. He put on the belt of wampum and returned to
his own people, who were proud of him and cried out with one voice that
the West-wind should be given him to rule. Thenceforth he was known as
Kabeyun, father of the winds and ruler of the air.

Kabeyun had three sons, to whom he gave the three remaining winds of
heaven. To Wabun he gave the steady East-wind, fresh and damp with the
air of the ocean; to the lazy Shawondasee he gave the scented breezes
of the south, and to the cruel Kabibonokka he gave the icy gusts and
storm-blasts of the Northland.

Wabun, the young and beautiful, ruled the morning, and would fly from
hill to hill and plain to plain awakening the world. When he came with
the dew of early dawn upon his shoulders the wild fowl would splash amid
the marshes and the lakes and rivers wrinkle into life. The squirrels
would begin to chatter in the tree-tops, the moose would crash through
the thicket, and the smoke would rise from a thousand wigwams.

And yet, although the birds never sang so gayly as when Wabun was in the
air, and the flowers never smelled so sweet as when Wabun blew upo