Page:The art of story-telling, with nearly half a hundred stories, y Julia Darrow Cowles .. (IA artofstorytellin00cowl).pdf/182

 it is warm. I have no meat. Sit down and tell me what you can do."

"Peboan may tell first," said Segun.

Peboan said: "I am a winter Manitou; I blow my breath, and the flowers die. The waters stand still; the leaves fall and die.

Segun said: "I am a summer Manitou; I blow my breath, and the flowers open their eyes. The waters follow me on my trail."

Peboan said: "I shake my hair, and the snow falls on the mountains, like the feathers of Waubese, the great white swan."

Segun said: "I shake my hair, and warm rain falls from the clouds. I call, and the birds answer me. The trees put on their leaves, and the grass grows thick like the fur of the bear. The summer sky is my tepee. Menabozho has said that the time has come for you to go."

Peboan's head bent over on his shoulder. The sun melted the snow on the pine trees; it melted the snow on the tepee. Segun waved her hands over Peboan, and a strange thing happened.

Peboan grew smaller and smaller. His deer-skin clothes turned to leaves and covered Peboan on the ground.