ne of those buffalo-traces, which, in those days, formed the only
highways through the wilderness; the road of all others to lead a young
runaway wide and wild of his mark. Soon, too soon, was Sprigg--vain
Sprigg, bad Sprigg, poor Sprigg--far out of sight of home, the one place
under the pitiful heavens where the young and the aged, the weak and the
helpless, the untried and the overtried, should look for happiness and
peace and safety!

He fled with his face toward Sunset-land; but never once thought he of
Little Winged Moccasin. Elster had often told her son of the little
Indian boy, who ran to Sunset-land in quest of his shadow, which he had
lost at noon-day. The legend ran thus:

"There was a Cherokee boy, who discovered one morning at sunrise what a
long shadow he cast on the ground. Whereat, greatly delighted, he cried
out: 'Look! look! see what a shadow I make! See what a giant I am!' But
as the sun rose higher and higher his shadow grew shorter and shorter,
until, at noon, it had dwindled to scarcely a span's length. Whereupon,
he set up a loud lamentation, when suddenly a Manitou appeared before
him, who wore on his feet a pair of winged red moccasins.

"'What grieves you, boy?' said the Manitou.

"'I have lost my shadow!' cried the boy.

"'Wait until sunset, and you shall find it again,' said the Manitou.

"'But I have not the patience to wait so long!' whined the boy. 'Could
I but get there, I would go to Sunset-land, to live forever, where the
shadows are always long!'

"'Look!' said the Manitou, 'I have no shadow at all; never had, neither
in Sunset-land nor anywhere else. Yet am I perfectly satisfied.'

"'Maybe I would be satisfied, too, without one, had I never had one,'
put in the boy.

"'Well,' quoth the Manitou, 'since you are not willing to wait for your
shadow till sunset, and must need go to Sunset-land, where you think the
shadows are always long--here, I will lend you my moccasins, which,
being winged, will enable you to keep pace with the sun, and arrive at
Sunset-land as soon as he.'

"The boy put on the moccasins; and, in a trice, he was flitting away
over the face of the green earth at ten times the speed of a wild goose
chased by the winds. He ran and ran, nor ceased to run, even when come
to the land he was in quest of. All unwitting where he was, or whither
going, on--right through with might and main speed--on and on, until he
had put the Land of Sunrise as far behind him as the