An Indian was once wandering across the prairie. He was tired, and
hungry, and very lonely. He had traveled many miles.

At last he came to a brook, in a meadow at the foot of a hill.

"I will rest here until noon," thought the Indian. He sat down upon the
mossy bank beside the brook.

Presently he heard some one whisper, "Lift me up and carry me with you,
and I will be your friend."

The Indian looked carefully about him, to find who was speaking. He saw
a small, gray animal peeping from out of the moss.

"Ha, ha, Gray Mole!" laughed the Indian. "Why should I carry you?"

"I am far from my island home. If you will carry me to the cliff near
the Place of Breaking Light, I can then reach my burrow safely," replied
Gray Mole.

The Indian placed Gray Mole in his large wampum belt.

"Very well, little friend," he said. "You may travel with me, but I
shall rest here for a time before starting on the journey."

Then, covering himself with his deerskin robe, he lay down upon the
moss. He was soon fast asleep.

At about noon Sun passed overhead. Sun traveled so close to the earth