Mishosha freed himself from the blanket, rose and walked to the door of the lodge. There he stood looking out. “The storm has passed,” he said in his ordinary voice. “About dreams, I came to tell you of one I had had, but it grows late. Some other time I will tell it.”
“And you will take me back to-morrow to my brother?” asked the boy.
Mishosha laughed harshly. “We will make no promises to-night. To-morrow we might think them dreams we had dreamed. Another thing I would say. Beware how you touch my canoe. And do not have a dream that you can do anything on this island without my knowing of it.” He cast an evil glance at Panigwun and strode away through the night toward his own lodge.
The next morning Mishosha said to the boy, “I am going to an island to gather gulls’ eggs, and you will go with me.”
“But will you not take me to see my little brother first?”
“Some other time,” answered the magician. “We must make an early start if we are to reach the gulls’ island.” He stepped into the canoe and Panigwun followed him. “Chemann Poll,” he cried, and away they sped over the water.
The wooded island dropped out of sight behind them, and another island rose to view. This one was bleak and rocky; over it hovered thousands of sea gulls, filling the air with their harsh cries. The canoe stopped beside a rocky ledge, and the magician said to the boy, “Do you go ashore and gather the gulls’ eggs, and I will await you here.”
Fearing no evil, Panigwun stepped out on the rocks. Immediately the canoe slipped out into the deep water. “Oh, gulls,” shouted Mishosha in a loud voice, “I have long wished to make you an offering. Take this youth as a gift from me. He will serve as food for you and your children.” Then he slapped his canoe upon the side and cried “Chemann Poll.” The canoe shot away and was lost to sight, and Panigwun was left alone on the island.
The gulls rose and circled about him in a cloud. Their harsh cries deafened him. For a moment he was terrified; then he drew his knife and called upon his guardian spirit. With one blow he killed the nearest gull and hung it from his belt. “Man is the master of the birds,” he cried aloud. “Ye are my servants. Take me upon your wings and carry me back to where I came from.”