So Morning Star kept in the boy’s trail, and travelled for a long time. Suddenly his eyes closed, and he could not hear. He had a strange sensation, and then knew nothing until his eyes opened in an unknown and brightly lighted land. There were neither sun, moon, nor stars; but the land was illumined by a singular light.
He saw human beings very unlike his own people. They gathered about him, and tried to talk with him; but he could not understand their language. He knew not where to go nor what to do. He was well treated by this marvellous tribe of Indians; he watched their games, and was attracted by a wonderful game of ball which seemed to change the light to all the colors of the rainbow,—colors which he had never seen before. The players all seemed to have lights on their heads, and they wore curious girdles, called “Memquon,” or Rainbow belts.
After a few days, an old man came to him, and spoke to him in his own tongue, asking if he knew where he was. He answered: “No.”
The old man then said: “You are in the land of Northern Lights. I came here many years ago. I was the only one here from the ‘Lower Country,’ as we call it; but now there is a boy who visits us every few days.”
At this, the chief inquired how the old man got there, what way he came.
The old man said: “I followed the path called ‘Ketagūswōt,’ or ‘the Spirits’ Path’ (the Milky Way).”
“That must be the same path I took,” said the chief. “Did you have a strange feeling, as if you had lost all knowledge, while you travelled?”
“Yes,” said the old man; “I could not see nor hear.”
“Then you did come by the same path. Can you tell me how I may return home again?”
The old man said: “The Chief of the Northern Lights will send you home, friend.”