f
his gloomy lodge, and as he came, he blew the fever all about him.

Then was seen the greatest fight that the sun had ever looked upon. The
brave warrior shot his flint-tipped arrows, but the magician had on his
magic cloak, and the arrows could not wound him. He blew from his
nostrils the deadly breath of fever, but the heart of the warrior was so
strong that the fever could not kill him.

At last the brave warrior had but three arrows in his quiver. "What
shall I do?" he said sadly. "My arrows are good and my aim is good, but
no arrow can go through the magic cloak."

"Come on, come on," called the magician. "You are the man who wished to
fight. Come on." Then a woodpecker in a tree above the brave warrior
said softly, "Aim your arrow at his head, O warrior! Do not shoot at
his heart, but at the crest of feathers on his head. He can be wounded
there, but not in his heart."

The warrior was not so proud that he could not listen to a little bird.
The magician bent to lift a stone, and an arrow flew from the warrior's
bow. It buzzed and stung like a wasp. It came so close to the crest of
feathers that the magician trembled with terror. Before he could run,
another arrow came, and this one struck him right on his crest. His
heart grew cold with fear. "Death has struck me," he cried.

"Your cruel life is over," said the warrior. "People shall no longer
fear your fatal breath." Then he said to the woodpecker, "Little bird,
you have been a good friend to me, and I will do all that I can for
you." He put some of the red blood of the magician upon the little
creature's head. It made the crest of feathers there as red as flame.
"Whenever a man looks upon you," said the warrior, "he will say, 'That
bird is our friend. He helped to kill the cruel magician.'"

The little woodpecker was very proud of his red crest because it showed
that he was the friend of man, and all his children to this day are as
proud as he was.

[Illustration]

WHY THE CAT ALWAYS FALLS UPON HER FEET.

Some magicians are cruel, but others are gentle and good to all the
creatures of the earth. One of these good magicians was one day
traveling in a great forest. The sun rose high in the heavens, and he
lay down at the foot of a tree. Soft, green moss grew all about him. The
sun shining through the leaves made flecks of light and shadow upon the
earth. He heard the song of the bird and the lazy buzz of the wasp. The
wind rustled the leafy bo