When she came to the vine maple, she asked as before, "Is my painting becoming?"
"Oh, how becoming is the blood of her breast!" replied the vine maple.
"You answer well, and your wood shall be used for dishes and spoons, and for all things to make a house comfortable."
Then she passed to the cedar and asked, "O Cedar, is my painting becoming?"
"Oh, how becoming is the blood of her breast!" answered the cedar.
"You speak well, my younger brother. When people make canoes of you, they will be able to exchange them for slaves. They shall use you for houses and sell these for values."
Then she went to the fir and asked, "O Fir, is my painting becoming?"
"Oh, how becoming is the blood of her breast!" sighed the fir.
"You are wise, O Fir. When conjurers chant their songs, your wood shall be burned in their sacred fires. Your breath shall ever be sought after by people. You will always be a healer of woes."
Thus Robin passed through the forest, giving to each tree the uses that it has to-day.
