"At the outskirts of the village, in a modest wigwam, the young couple found the eldest of the three brothers, the man who had chosen the moccasins of the wind. He was lying on a couch of skins, and his children played about the door. His greeting was modest and kindly. But he could not rise from his couch to welcome them.
"'In my pride,' he said, 'I forgot that my prowess in the chase and the battle was all of the magic moccasins. I thought myself the very equal of Gluskap. But the moccasins flew away from me, and in the next hunt I was stricken to the earth by a wounded moose—for I was no stronger than the youngest warrior and no swifter than the oldest chief.'
"The new-comer produced the moccasins of the wind from the bag at his side, and gave them into the hands of the fallen chieftain. At that moment a tall stranger entered the wigwam and took the moccasins from his hands. Then, turning to the other, he took the red arrow from the quiver. Already the wallet of plenty hung at his belt of blue wampum.
"'The three gifts were equal in the sight of Gluskap,' he said, 'but you see how you have driven their magic to the desires of your own hearts. Only the red arrow worked to its full power, and in doing so it has doubled its magic. Now Gluskap has need of it, and takes it back as a gift from this young man.' He turned, and glided from the lodge."
"Who was it?" asked Flying Plover.
"I don't know; but perhaps it was Gluskap himself," replied the old woman.
"Do you know any more stories about the red arrow?" asked the boy.
"Perhaps I do," said the old woman. "But I'll not tell you any more to-night."
THE END