"The world is conquered; I am the only king," said giant Winter. He sat alone in his lodge. The fire was white with ashes, and the tempest howled.
A step was heard, and a young warrior entered the lodge.
He was tall and straight and youthful.
Old Winter welcomed the stranger. "Sit here on the mat beside me," he said. "Let us pass the night together. You shall tell me of your strange adventures, and of the lands in which you have traveled."
The old man drew his long peace pipe from its pouch. It was made of red sandstone, and its stem was a smooth reed. He lighted the pipe from the dying embers and passed it to his guest.
Long they talked and smoked together, each boasting of his power.
"When I blow my breath about me," said old Winter, "rivers stop their flowing, and water turns to stone."
The young man smiled. "When I blow my breath about me," he replied, "I free your prisoned waters, and they rush onward to the seas."
"My power is greater than yours," boasted Winter. "I have only to shake my long hair and the leaves die on the branches. Plants bow their heads before me and go back into the earth."