pine the youth was relieving the monotony of his
drumming by occasionally chanting. At the foot of the thickly wooded
hillside upon which the pine stood the indolent waters of Muskrat Creek
meandered toward Bear Lake. On the bank near the river's mouth stood
the lodges, but neither Oo-koo-hoo nor Amik seemed to be at home; and
the rest of the family may have been absent, too, for the dogs were
mounting guard.

Again the boy beat his drum; louder and louder he sang his love song
until his soft rich voice broke into a wail. Presently the door-skin
of Granny's lodge was gently pushed aside, and Neykia stepped
indolently forth.

Shading her eyes with her hand, the girl gazed at the hillside, but
failed to discern her lover in the tree top. She listened awhile and
then, upon hearing once more the love song above the beating of the
drum, yielded to the dictates of her heart and began to climb the hill.
Little Pine saw her coming, ceased his drumming, and slid down to hide
behind the tree trunk.

A faintly marked woodland path led close by, and along it the maiden
was advancing. As she came abreast of the tree the youth, in fun, gave
a shout, and the maid--evidently pretending bashful alarm--took to
flight.

Though fleet of foot, she suffered him to overtake her soon and catch
her by the arm, and hold her while she feigned to struggle desperately
for freedom. That won, she turned away with a laugh, sat down upon a
bank of wild flowers, and with shyly averted face, began plucking them.
Little Pine sat down beside her. A moment later she sprang up and with
merry laughter ran into the denser forest, and there, with her lover
swiftly following her, disappeared from view.

At sunset that evening Oo-koo-hoo and his wife sat smoking beside their
fire; and when the hermit thrush was singing, the whippoorwill
whippoorwilling, the owl oo-koo-hooing, the fox barking, the bull frog
whoo-wonking, the gander honking, the otter whistling, the drake
quacking, the squirrel chattering, the cock grouse drumming, and the
wolf howling--each to his own chosen mate, the hunter turned to me and
smiled:

"Do you hear Shing-wauk singing?"

I listened more attentively to the many mingling love songs of the
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