of
trees far below them. In great circles they began to descend, and in a
few minutes alighted in the topmost branches of a tall tree.

Waupee then spoke: "We shall build our nest in this tree, and into it
we shall weave parts of our old lodge, where we lived so happily
together. Let us go now and gather these; then we shall begin our
nest."

KOTO AND THE BIRD

Once there was a little Cree boy named Koto. His father was a chief
and a great hunter, and Koto always longed for the time when he would
be able to hunt like his father and bring back large game to the
wigwam. One summer day the chief and all the hunters were away on a
hunting trip. There was no one left in the camp but a few of the women
and some children. Koto wandered around, not knowing what to do, when
suddenly he thought of a very daring thing. One pony had been left
because it had been lame, and now Koto made up his mind that he would
get on its back and gallop over the prairie. He knew that the pony's
foot was nearly better, and he thought that one gallop could not hurt
it.

So he jumped on the pony's back, waved his arms, and called out to it
to run, and away they went. Koto's long, dark hair and the pony's mane
blew in the wind, and they both were enjoying the gallop when something
terrible happened. The pony caught his foot in a badger hole and fell
heavily to the ground. Koto was tossed in the air, and then fell with
one foot pinned under him.

For a long time the two sufferers lay there in the hot sun on the
prairie. At length Koto's mother, who had missed him, found them. She
carried Koto back to the wigwam and laid him on his bed of skins. She
told him that his leg was broken and that the pony's leg was broken
also, and that the hunters would have to kill it when they returned.
Poor Koto wept bitterly. He did not mind his own broken leg, but to
think that he had really killed the little pony nearly broke his heart.
For many days he lay on his bed, and at last he was able to get up and
move around with the help of a little crutch, which his father had made
from the branch of a tree.

When winter came, the Indians moved their camp to the woods along the
bank of the Assiniboine River. Koto was not able to walk well, so
remained in his lodge until all the camp had been moved. Then his
father came to carry him to the camp that was protected from the cold
north wind.

"My son," he said, as he walked along with Koto in hi