Sing to us,
Chibiabos, sing your love songs!" and Hiawatha and Nokomis said: "Yes,
sing, Chibiabos, that our guests may enjoy themselves all the more, and
our feast may pass more gayly!"

Chibiabos rose, and his wonderful voice swelled all the echoes of the
forest, until the streams paused in their courses, and the listening
beavers came to the surface of the water so that they might hear. He
sang so sweetly that his voice caused the pine-trees to quiver as if a
wind were passing through them, and strange sounds seemed to run along
the earth. All the Indians were spellbound by his singing, and sat as if
they had been turned to stone. Even the smoke ceased to rise from their
pipes while Chibiabos sang, but when he had ended they shouted with joy
and praised him in loud voices.

Iagoo, the mighty boaster, alone did not join in the roar of praise, for
he was jealous of Chibiabos, and longed to tell one of his great stories
to the Indians. When Iagoo heard of any adventure he always told of a
greater one that had happened to himself, and to listen to him, you
would think that nobody was such a mighty hunter and nobody was such a
valiant fighter as he. If you would only believe him, you would learn
nobody had ever shot an arrow half so far as he had, that nobody could
run so fast, or dive so deep, or leap so high, and that nobody in the
wide world had ever seen so many wonders as the brave, great, and
wonderful Iagoo.

This was the reason that his name had become a byword among the Indians;
and whenever a hunter spoke too highly of his own deeds, or a warrior
talked too much of what he had done in battle, his hearers shouted:
"See, Iagoo is among us!"

But it was Iagoo who had carved the cradle of Hiawatha long ago, and
who had taught him how to make his bow and arrows. And as he sat at the
feast, old and ugly but very eager to tell of his adventures, Nokomis
said to him: "Good Iagoo, tell us some wonderful story, so that our
feast may be more merry," and Iagoo answered like a flash: "You shall
hear the most wonderful story that has ever been heard since men have
lived upon the earth. You shall hear the strange and marvelous tale of
Osseo and his father, King of the Evening Star."

XII

THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR

"SEE the Star of Evening!" cried Iagoo; "see how it shines like a bead
of wampum on the robes of the Great Spirit! Gaze on it, and listen to
the story of Osseo!

"Long ago, in the days when the