as they sounded louder, the old witch laughed with joy, and the scalps laughed with her.
Early in the morning Harka set out to journey back to his tribe. For three days he journeyed, and then he came within sight of the village. It was toward dusk, and the Indians were gathered once more about their fires. It was the children who saw him first, and they shouted, laughing, “Here comes Harka! Here comes Harka. Hasten, Harka, or the dark may catch you.” And the youths joined them in their laughter. “Have you slain the sorcerer, Harka? Have you his head to show us?”
Then Harka answered proudly, “Look!” and uncovering the head, he held it up before them.
For a moment all were silent, gazing awe-struck. Then a great shout arose, “He has slain him! Harka has slain Pahundootah! He has brought his head to show us!”
Then all gathered around him, youths and warriors, and the women and the children also, and all wondered and hailed him as a hero. And from that time Harka sat no more with those of his own age, but with the wise ones and the warriors, and joined in their councils, and when the old chief died, Harka was chosen chief and ruled his tribe and reared up children and killed many enemies. And always he was known as Harka, the slayer of Pahundootah.
SCHIPPEITARO
A Japanese Story
There was once a brave Japanese lad who wished to go out into the world and prove his courage in some great adventure. His father and mother did not say no to this. Instead they gave him their blessing, and allowed him to set forth.
For a long time he traveled along, crossing streams and passing through villages, but nowhere did he meet with any adventures.
One evening, as dusk drew on, he found himself in a dark forest, and he did not know which way to turn in order to get out of it. He wandered this way and that, and always the night grew darker and the way rougher, and then suddenly, between the tree trunks, he saw a red light shine out; sometimes it shone brighter and sometimes dimmer, but never with a steady shining.