to the maiden, and getting into the
canoe, he was carried across the lake. In a few minutes, he was at the
lodge of the old man. The Indian smiled when he saw him.

"Enter, my grandson," he said, "and you will find your body within."

The young man obeyed, and when he came forth he felt as when he had
first arrived. But his heart was brave now. The Indian smiled again
at him.

"I see how brave and strong you are," he said, "and my message to you
is: always remain cheerful and brighten every sad life that you see."

The young man promised to obey the message, and, with one long look at
the Land of Souls, he turned and began his journey towards his home.

THE WHITE FEATHER

An old man and his grandson once lived together on an island. The
little boy had no father, nor mother, nor brothers, nor sisters. They
had all been killed by six giants, who lived many miles away. The
little boy had never seen any person but his grandfather. They lived
very happily together. The old man loved the boy and was kind to him.
As the little fellow grew tall and strong, the old man taught him how
to hunt, so that by the time he was a young man he was a good hunter.

One day when he was walking in the woods, he heard a voice calling to
him. He turned in surprise, for he had never heard any one but his
grandfather speak. He could see no one, but again he heard the voice.
It was saying, "You will some day be the wearer of the White Feather."

He looked all around him, and then noticed something that he had taken
for a withered tree. It was a man who was made of wood from his breast
down to his feet. He seemed to be very old, and was fastened to the
ground. When he saw the young man was looking at him, he said, "Come
here, I wish to tell you something. There was an old belief in your
tribe that some day a boy would grow up to be a very great warrior. He
was to wear a white feather as a sign of his bravery and great skill.
You are that boy. When you go home, you will find there a white
feather, a pipe, and a tobacco-pouch. Put the white feather in your
hair. Then smoke the pipe, and you will find that the smoke will turn
into pigeons. This is another sign that you will be wise and good."

The old man ceased speaking, and the young grandson returned home to
his lodge. He found the feather and the pipe both lying there. He did
as the old man told him, and when he smoked, blue and white pigeons
flew away from his