Before even the swiftest wolf could reach him he was way up on the topmost bough.
Poor Mewanee was badly frightened now. As he looked below he saw the eyes of the hungry wolf glaring at him through the darkness.
How bright and terrible his eyes looked! Mewanee had never before been so near a wolf.
The silvery moon looked down upon the little fellow, seeming to say, “Do not fear. I will care for you.”
The soft wind whispered to Mewanee and told him to have no fear. Still Mewanee was not comforted.
“O Great Spirit,” cried Mewanee, “protect me from this terrible wolf.”
MEWANEE’S QUIVER BAG
Mewanee felt for his quiver bag. He had forgotten that he had laid his bow and arrows under the tree.
He had no way of helping himself. He thought of his father and mother and his dear little baby brother.