forest dwellers, and sure enough, away off along the shore, I could
hear Little Pine singing to his sweetheart. It was charming.


THE LOVE DANCE

"My son," sighed Oo-koo-hoo, "it reminds me of the days when I, too,
was a boy and when Ojistoh was a girl, away back among the many springs
of long ago."

"Yes, Nar-pim," smiled Granny--for an Indian woman never calls her
husband by his name, but always addresses him as Nar-pim, which means
"my man."

"Yes, Nar-pim, don't you remember when I heard that drumming away off
among the trees, and when I, girl-like, pretended I did not know what
it meant, but you, saying never a word and taking me by the hand, led
me to the very spot where that handsome little lover was beating his
drum and making love to so many sweethearts?"

"Yes, I remember it well, when I took little Ojistoh, my sweetheart, by
the hand and we hurried to find the little drummer." Then, turning to
me, the hunter continued: "My son, one never forgets the days of his
youth, and well can I recall picking our way in and out among the trees
and undergrowth, tiptoeing here and there lest our moccasined feet
should break a fallen twig and alarm the drummer or the dancers. For
it was the love dance we were going to see. As the drumming sound
increased in volume, our caution increased, too. Soon we deemed it
prudent to go down upon our hands and knees and thus be more surely
screened by the underbrush as we stealthily approached. Creeping on