o the wolfish English. You have too many tongues,
and, more than all, the deceitful, forked tongue of the snake, which is
not agreeable to the old beloved speech. For myself, the Great Bear made
me welcome in the only language that does not make my heart weigh
heavy,--the elegant Cherokee language."

The spellbound listeners had broken out with irritated protests against
the interruption, and Tus-ka-sah said no more.

As the blasts went sonorously over the house and the flames swirled anew
into the murky atmosphere of the interior, a weird, half-smothered voice
suddenly invaded the restored quiet of the hearthstone: "_Eeon-a,
Ha-hoo-jah! Eeon-a, Ha-hoo-jah!_"

Like an echo the barbaric chant vibrated through the room. One of the
sleepers, a half-grown youth, had semi-consciously caught the familiar
refrain and sang it in that strange uncanny voice of slumber. The tones
gave fitting effect to the grotesque details of the supernatural
adventure, and as Tus-ka-sah rose and surlily took his way toward the
door his departure did not attract even casual notice from the
listeners, hanging enthralled upon the words of the Great Eeon-a, so
veraciously repeated for their behoof. Their eyes showed intent even in
the murky gloom and glistened lustrous in the alternate fitful flare;
the red walls seemed to recede and advance as the flames rose and fell;
the sleeping boy on the broad bed-place stirred uneasily, flinging now
and again a restless arm from out the panther skins in which he was
enveloped, and ever and anon his cry, "_Eeon-a, Ha-hoo-jah! Eeon-a,
Ha-hoo-jah!"_ punctuated the impressive dramatic tones of the raconteur.

The next instant Tus-ka-sah was in the utter darkness of the narrow
tortuous little passage, but after threading this he came out of the
doorway into the keen chill air of a snowy world, the scintillations of
frosty stars, the languid, glamourous radiance of the yellow moon, low
in the sky, and his accustomed mental atmosphere of the plainest of
plain prose. His thoughts were with the group he had just left, and he
marveled if no influence could be brought to reduce the prestige with
which the immaterial chief of the bears, the fabled Eeon-a, had
contrived to invest the illusory Amoyah.

Tus-ka-sah's expectations concerning the weather were promptly
justified. A continual dripping from the roofs and trees pervaded the
early hours of the morning, and soon the snow was all gone here in the
valley; even th