nedowa; "if he invites me to the race-ground, I will
not be backward. What follows, may teach him, my mother, to show pity on
the vanquished, and not to trample on the widow and those who are
without fathers."

When the day of the visit of the manito arrived, Monedowa told his wife
to prepare certain pieces of meat, which he pointed out to her, together
with two or three buds of the birch-tree, which he requested her to put
in the pot. He directed also that the manito should be hospitably
received, as if he had been just the kind-hearted old Indian he
professed to be. Monedowa then dressed himself as a warrior,
embellishing his visage with tints of red, to show that he was prepared
for either war or peace.

As soon as the mudjee monedo arrived, he eyed this strange warrior whom
he had never seen before; but he dissembled, as usual, and, with a
gentle laugh, said to the widow, "Did I not tell you that some one was
staying with you, for I knew your son was too young to hunt."

The widow excused herself by saying that she did not think it necessary
to tell him, inasmuch as he was a manito, and must have known before he
asked.

The manito was very pleasant with Monedowa, and after much other
discourse, in a gentle-spoken voice, he invited him to the
racing-ground, saying it was a manly amusement, that he would have an
excellent chance to meet there with other warriors, and that he should
himself be pleased to run with him.

Monedowa would have excused himself, saying that he knew nothing of
running.

"Why," replied the mudjee monedo, trembling in every limb as he spoke,
"don't you see how old I look, while you are young and full of life. We
must at least run a little to amuse others."

"Be it so, then," replied Monedowa. "I will oblige you. I will go in the
morning."

Pleased with his crafty success, the manito would have now taken his
leave, but he was pressed to remain and partake of their hospitality.
The meal was immediately prepared. But one dish was used.

Monedowa partook of it first, to show his guest that he need not fear,
saying at the same time, "It is a feast, and as we seldom meet, we must
eat all that is placed on the dish, as a mark of gratitude to the Great
Spirit for permitting me to kill animals, and for the pleasure of seeing
you, and partaking of it with you."

They ate and talked, on this and that, until they had nearly dispatched
the meal, when the manito took up the dish and drank off the