Meanwhile the old magician had fallen asleep and allowed his canoe to come to a standstill. Owasso, in his flight over the lake, saw him lying on his back in the boat taking a nap, which was quite natural, as the day was very soft and balmy.
As Owasso, with his convoy of birds, passed over, he let fall a capful of gulls' eggs directly in the face of the old magician. They broke and so besmeared Misho-sha's eyes that he could barely see. He jumped up and exclaimed:
"It is always so with these thoughtless birds. They never consider where they drop their eggs."
Owasso flew on and reached the lodge in safety, where, excusing himself for the liberty, he killed two or three of the gulls, as he wished their feathers to ornament his son's head.
When the magician arrived, soon after, his grandson came out to meet him, tossing his head about as the feathers danced and struggled with the wind.
"Where did you get these," asked the Manito, "and who brought them?"
"My father brought them," the boy replied.
The old magician was quite distressed in his mind that he had not destroyed his son-in-law. He entered his lodge in silence and set his wits busily at work again to contrive some more successful plan to gain his purpose.
He could not help saying to himself:
"What manner of boy is this who is ever escaping from my power? But his guardian spirit shall not save him. I will entrap him to-morrow. Ha, ha, ha!"