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 was white as the icy fringes of the frozen brook.

He blew upon the coals of his fire and they glowed, bright as the eyes of a startled deer in the forest. But the glow faded. The old man shivered.

There was no food in the tepee. The bear and the rabbit were hidden in the forest. Their tracks were covered with snow. Peboan could not hunt them.

Then, upon his knees, he cried to the Great Spirit for help. He cried for help, that Peboan, chief of the winter spirits, might not suffer want and cold.

As he sank once more upon his furs, he felt a warmth in the tepee. He looked up.

In the doorway stood a youth, whose red cheeks and sparkling eyes told of health and strength. A wreath of sweet grass was bound about his curling locks, and in his hands he held a cluster of flowers. Light and quick was his step as he entered the lodge of Peboan.

He smiled upon Peboan, and the old man felt a warmth enveloping him.

"Enter, my son," he said, "and welcome. I have no refreshment to offer. But come to my fire, and tell me who you are."