o!" was the full-throated response.

"All put on your war-paint," suggested Anookasan. "Have your knives and
arrows ready!"

They did so, and all stole silently through the black forest in the
direction of the mysterious sound. Clearer and clearer it came through
the frosty air; but it was a foreign sound to the savage ear. Now it
seemed to them almost like a distant water-fall; then it recalled the
low hum of summer insects and the drowsy drone of the bumblebee. Thump,
thump, thump! was the regular accompaniment.

Nearer and nearer to the cliff they came, deeper into the wild heart
of the woods. At last out of the gray, formless night a dark shape
appeared! It looked to them like a huge buffalo bull standing motionless
in the forest, and from his throat there apparently proceeded the thump
of the medicine drum, and the song of the beguiling spirit!

All of a sudden a spark went up into the air. As they continued to
approach, there became visible a deep glow about the middle of the dark
object. Whatever it was, they had never heard of anything like it in all
their lives!

Anookasan was a little in advance of his companions, and it was he who
finally discovered a wall of logs laid one upon another. Half way up
there seemed to be stretched a par-fleche (raw-hide), from which a dim
light emanated. He still thought of Oglugechana, who dwells within a
hollow tree, and determined to surprise and if possible to overpower
this wonderworking old man.

All now took their knives in their hands and advanced with their leader
to the attack upon the log hut. "Wa-wa-wa-wa, woo, woo!" they cried.
Zip, zip! went the par-fleche door and window, and they all rushed in!

There sat a man upon a roughly hewn stool. He was attired in wolfskins
and wore a foxskin cap upon his head. The larger portion of his face was
clothed with natural fur. A rudely made cedar fiddle was tucked
under his furred chin. Supporting it with his left hand, he sawed it
vigorously with a bow that was not unlike an Indian boy's miniature
weapon, while his moccasined left foot came down upon the sod floor in
time with the music. When the shrill war-whoop came, and the door and
window were cut in strips by the knives of the Indians, he did not even
cease playing, but instinctively he closed his eyes, so as not to behold
the horror of his own end.

II

It was long ago, upon the rolling prairie south of the Devil's Lake,
that a motley body of hunters gath