d it all. He ran his eyes along the buffalo-trace, that led
in the direction of home, half expecting to catch another glimpse of his
father's retreating figure. Thus he stood, for many moments, in a state
of dreamy bewilderment, gazing about him far and wide, until his
wondering thoughts and wandering eyes reverted directly to his personal
self. He looked down; his feet were bare. Where were the red moccasins?
Red moccasins! They were but a part of the dream; or, rather, the very
master-fancy of it--the incubus! Never had he seen such things in bodily
form. Assuredly, he must be at home, aflat of his back on the floor,
asleep and dreaming.

He was still looking about him, trying to make something of his strange
experiences, when his eye was caught by a glitter and a gleam in the
grass, which caused him to spring affrightedly backward, as from the
glittering eye and gleaming crest of a rattlesnake. But no serpent was
there. The more the pity! Only the red moccasins, adjusted side by side,
with their old air of easy self-assurance, and now in open view before
him. Yet, but the moment previous his look had chanced to be resting on
that very spot, and naught but the tufted grass had he seen there! With
their familiar sheen in his eyes, all came flashing back to his
memory--the terrors of Manitou hill, the wonders of Manitou cave. Yet
what assurance had he that these things also were not dreams? Let all
the rest be as unreal as it might, the red moccasins were there in
bodily form, and his own identical pair, too, as he could easily
distinguish by a certain peculiar token, which was wanting in those he
had seen on the feet of the elves. Upon all of theirs, between toe and
instep, was the figure of an arrow traced in blood-red beads. Upon his
own was the same figure, thrust through that of a human heart, but the
whole device wrought in colorless beads. As he stood there gazing upon
them, a twinkling light came glancing out of their beads, which met his
look amazingly like a smile of familiar recognition. Then came it again,
stealing upon his ear, that sound, or fancy, so like a voice; but
whence, whether from the moccasins, or from some airy tongue, or from
his own heart, perplexed him as much as ever to decide.

"Our brave Sprigg, in a pet of wrath, flung us from him up there on
Manitou hill. He thought that we had deceived him. He had only deceived
himself. So bemisted were his eyes from gazing, and gazing, and gazing
at u