He traveled on for many weeks. Gradually the snow melted away, grass and flowers began to appear, and when he reached the southland, thousands of birds were twittering and singing in the trees.
People were singing too, there in the southland, singing and dancing around their beloved Queen of Summer. At first A-wah-nee laughed when he saw her, for she was only a mite of a creature scarcely as tall as A-wah-nee’s foot, with long black hair waving about her shoulders and dark eyes flashing fire. But as he looked at her, an idea leaped into his mind, and grew and grew into a great plan to fool the giant Winter.
Carefully the young brave carried out his scheme. First he went deep into the heart of the forest and killed a deer. Then he skinned it carefully, and made its hide into long thin strips which he rolled into a tight ball.
Returning to the place where the men of the southland were singing and dancing about their little Queen of Summer, A-wah-nee waited his time. In a moment when they were not on guard, he caught up the tiny figure, tucked her out of sight in a fold of his blanket, and went striding away into the forest. As he fled he took care to unwind some ten or more turns of the deer-skin string ball, and let the loose ends dangle several yards behind him.
A-wah-nee was very fleet of foot and, too, he had taken the men of the south so entirely unawares that before they had planned how to rescue their stolen Queen, the thief was already deep in the forest and quite out of sight. But presently they came upon the deer string and, winding it up as they went, began to follow where it led.
In the meantime A-wah-nee had traveled far and reached, at last, the wigwam of the giant Winter. As before, the old man welcomed him pleasantly and bade him enter, for he meant to exert his spell over the young hunter once more.
“Sit by my fire and rest,” he roared in his great voice. “You must be weary after your long hunt. I will tell you tales of the giants while you refresh your tired limbs.”
“Ah no!” laughed A-wah-nee. “This time, oh giant, I will tell the tales to you,” and he smiled knowingly and began to speak.
As he talked, a strange thing happened to the giant. His head nodded, his voice grew weak, he shook all over, and tears began to run from his eyes, for little by little A-wah-nee had been drawing the folds of his blanket away from the little Queen of Summer, and she had been watching the old man with bright black eyes. At last she stepped out boldly on A-wah-nee’s knee, and smiled at Winter. Under that smile he grew weaker and weaker until at last he fell to the floor of the wigwam, and melted away until nothing was left of him but a pool of water from which came a hoarse, moaning cry.
A-wah-nee and the little Queen turned away from him and stepped out doors. A great change had come over the scene. The snow had gone, the grass was fresh and green, the ice had melted away, and the brooks were trying to sing even louder than the happy birds. Everything was as beautiful as the southland itself, even more so, for there was a cool, sweet fragrance in the air that had come from the pure snow as it melted.