ne Shape. And as his feathers were blackened, so,
thereafter, was his heart darkened with eternal selfishness."

I was silent. My pipe had gone out, and Zachook was bent low over
the dying fire. I was thinking of another story of a Child who had
given Light to the World, and suffered for the bringing.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

_The Water Carrier_

"When You Give a Potlach, Forget Not He Who Carries the Water."

"Thank Yaeethl for that," said Zachook as I rose with dripping
beard from the stream where I had drunk deep, with many sighs of
satisfaction and relief. "His pack is not heavy with thanks of men
these days."

"Thank the Raven? For what?"

"The starving man asks not the name of the owner of the cache, but
his heart is filled with gratitude."

"That may be, but no cache of Yaeethl's is in this stream."

"The ignorant deny all they cannot see."

"Wise sayings feed neither fire nor belly," I retorted, provoked by
the criticism of my companion, thinly veiled behind his customary
proverbs, and attempting to pay him in his own coin from my slender
store of Klingat adages. "'Only a beggar gives thanks.' Is it not
your teaching that he who gives in this world receives the benefit,
since in Tskekowani[1] his possessions shall be as his gifts here?
If Yaeethl wants my thanks, if they are the due of the Raven, he
has them, but why or for what I know not. Your words are like the
ice of a windy day, rough and cloudy."

[1] _The next world._

"You are right, Cousin. I forget at times that you are only a white
man. Let me touch thy ear with my tongue."

"Cha-auk.[2] In the Time before Time, there was no water upon the
earth or in the bowl of the sea, and Shanagoose the Sky gave
neither rain nor snow.

[2] _Ages ago._

"In one place only was Heen, the water. In a deep well it was, the
father of wells, hidden among the mountains that lie between here
and Tskekowani.

"To Heenhadowa, the Thirst Spirit, belonged the well, by Heenhadowa
was it guarded. By the door of the well-house sat he by day, in
front of the well-house door was his bed by night. And none might
enter.

"Never did he leave the well, morning, noon or night. From the
water he took life, to the water he gave life. To no man, woman, or
child, to neither animal nor bird, to nothing that walks, creeps,
or flies would Heenhadowa give of the precious water. Not so much
as would moisten the tongue of Ta-ka the Mosquito would