to his feet.

Though asleep, his ear was ever alert. Thus rushing out into the open,
he listened for strange sounds. With an eagle eye he scanned the camp
ground for some sign.

Returning he said: "My daughter, I hear nothing and see no sign of evil
nigh."

"Oh! the sound of many voices comes up from the earth about me!"
exclaimed the young mother.

Bending low over her babe she gave ear to the ground. Horrified was she
to find the mysterious sound came out of the open mouth of her sleeping
child!

"Why so unlike other babes!" she cried within her heart as she slipped
him gently from her lap to the ground. "Mother, listen and tell me if
this child is an evil spirit come to destroy our camp!" she whispered
loud.

Placing an ear close to the open baby mouth, the chieftain and his wife,
each in turn heard the voices of a great camp. The singing of men and
women, the beating of the drum, the rattling of deer-hoofs strung like
bells on a string, these were the sounds they heard.

"We must go away," said the chieftain, leading them into the night.
Out in the open he whispered to the frightened young woman: "Iya, the
camp-eater, has come in the guise of a babe. Had you gone to sleep, he
would have jumped out into his own shape and would have devoured our
camp. He is a giant with spindling legs. He cannot fight, for he cannot
run. He is powerful only in the night with his tricks. We are safe as
soon as day breaks." Then moving closer to the woman, he whispered: "If
he wakes now, he will swallow the whole tribe with one hideous gulp!
Come, we must flee with our people."

Thus creeping from teepee to teepee a secret alarm signal was given. At
midnight the teepees were gone and there was left no sign of the village
save heaps of dead ashes. So quietly had the people folded their wigwams
and bundled their tent poles that they slipped away unheard by the
sleeping Iya babe.

When the morning sun arose, the babe awoke. Seeing himself deserted, he
threw off his baby form in a hot rage.

Wearing his own ugly shape, his huge body toppled to and fro, from side
to side, on a pair of thin legs far too small for their burden. Though
with every move he came dangerously nigh to falling, he followed in the
trail of the fleeing people.

"I shall eat you in the sight of a noon-day sun!" cried Iya in his vain
rage, when he spied them encamped beyond a river.

By some unknown cunning he swam the river and sought his way toward the