"Good-morning, Glib-tongue!" greeted Carcajou.
"Welcome, Clerk!" said the King, graciously.
"Hop up on my antler," murmured Mooswa, condescendingly; "you'll get your throat full of dust down there."
Whisky-Jack swished up on the big platter-like leaf that was the first spread of Mooswa's lordly crown. He picked a remnant of meat food from his beak with his big toe, coughed three times impressively, and commenced:--
"Comrades, who do you suppose has come within our Boundaries?"
"Is it Cougar, the Slayer?" asked Black King, apprehensively.
"Is it Death Song, the Rattler, he who glides?" cried Marten, his little legs trembling with fear.
"Has my cousin, Ookistutoowan the Grizzly, come down from his home in the up-hills to dispute with me the way of the road?" queried Black Bear, Muskwa. "I am ready for him!" he declared, shaking his back like a huge St. Bernard.
"Didst see Train Dogs, bearer of ill news?" demanded Wolf. "Ur-r-r! I fear not!" and he bared his great yellow fangs viciously.
"Worse, worse still!" piped Whisky-Jack, spreading his wings out, and sloping his small round head down toward them. "Worse than any you have mentioned--some one to make you all tremble."