seemed to speak, and she heard from within a voice,
saying, "Make haste and release me from this nasty place."

It was her brother's voice, which she was accustomed to obey; and she
made haste with her knife to open a door in the side of the fish, from
which the boy-man presently leaped forth. He lost no time in ordering
her to cut it up and dry it; telling her that their spring supply of
meat was now provided.

The sister now began to believe that her brother was an extraordinary
boy; yet she was not altogether satisfied in her mind that he was
greater than the rest of the world.

They sat, one evening, in the lodge, musing with each other in the dark,
by the light of each other's eyes--for they had no other of any
kind--when the sister said, "My brother, it is strange that you, who can
do so much, are no wiser than the Ko-ko, who gets all his light from the
moon; which shines or not, as it pleases."

"And is not that light enough?" asked the little spirit.

"Quite enough," the sister replied. "If it would but come within the
lodge and not sojourn out in the tree-tops and among the clouds."

"We will have a light of our own, sister," said the boy-man; and,
casting himself upon a mat by the door, he commenced singing:

Fire-fly, fire-fly, bright little thing,
Light me to bed and my song I will sing;
Give me your light, as you fly o'er my head,
That I may merrily go to my bed.

Give me your light o'er the grass as you creep,
That I may joyfully go to my sleep;
Come, little fire-fly, come little beast,
Come! and I'll make you to-morrow a feast.

Come, little candle, that flies as I sing,
Bright little fairy-bug, night's little king;
Come and I'll dream as you guide me along;
Come and I'll pay you, my bug, with a song.

As the boy-man chanted this call, they came in at first one by one, then
in couples, till at last, swarming in little armies, the fire-flies lit
up the little lodge with a thousand sparkling lamps, just as the stars
were lighting the mighty hollow of the sky without.

The faces of the sister and brother shone upon each other, from their
opposite sides of the lodge, with a kindly gleam of mutual trustfulness;
and never more from that hour did a doubt of each other darken their
little household.

XVI.

THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS.

A long, long time ago, a little boy was living with his sister entirely
alone in an uninhabited country, fa