of a fish, and in a few moments she was a complete
trout. Having accomplished this transformation the spirit gave her
to the chief of the trouts, and the pair glided off into the deep
and quiet waters. She did not, however, forget the land of her birth.
Every season, on the same night as that upon which her disappearance
from her tribe had been wrought, there were to be seen two trouts of
enormous size playing in the water off the shore. They continued
their visits till the palefaces came to the country, when, deeming
themselves to be in danger from a people who paid no reverence to the
spirits of the land, they bade it adieu forever.

* * * * *

THE STAR WIFE

In the days when the buffalo raced and thundered over the earth and
the stars danced and sang in the sky, a brave young hunter lived on
the bank of Battle River. He was fond of the red flowers and the blue
sky; and when the rest of the Indians went out to hunt in waistcloths
of skin he put on his fringed leggings all heavy with blue beads, and
painted red rings and stripes on his face, till he was as gay as the
earth and the sky himself. High-feather was his name, and he always
wore a red swan's feather on his head.

One day, when High-feather was out with his bow and arrows, he came on
a little beaten trail that he had never seen before, and he followed
it--but he found that it went round and round and brought him back to
where he had started. It came from nowhere, and it went to nowhere.

"What sort of animal has made this?" he said. And he lay down in the
middle of the ring to think, looking up into the blue sky.

While he lay thinking, he saw a little speck up above him in the sky,
and thought it was an eagle. But the speck grew bigger, and sank down
and down, till he saw it was a great basket coming down out of the
sky. He jumped up and ran back to a little hollow and lay down to hide
in a patch of tall red flowers. Then he peeped out and saw the basket
come down to the earth and rest on the grass in the middle of the
ring. Twelve beautiful maidens were leaning over the edge of the
basket. They were not Indian maidens, for their faces were pink and
white, and their long hair was bright red-brown like a fox's fur, and
their clothes were sky-blue and floating light as cobwebs.

The maidens jumped out of the basket and began to dance round and
round the ring-trail, one behind the other, drumming with their
fingers