And he did, and when the storm was ended he and his grandmother came out and the ground was covered with spears. "No matter," said he; "I will get poles and fit them on for fishing"; but when he brought the pole he could not find any spears. "How is this?" he asked. And his grandmother said, "They are melted—they were ice."
The boy was very much disappointed and mourned aloud. "What can I do to punish the old fellow?" he cried. "Heed my warning," said his grandmother, "and leave him alone."
But the lad was determined. He started off once more, taking with him a stone round his neck as a charm. He watched the direction in which he had heard the voice, and all at once he saw in the middle of the lake a great head, with a face on every side of it. He cried out, "Ha! ha! uncle, I have you now. How should you like it if the lake dried up!" "That it will never do," said the voice. "Go home," mocked the lad, "and see!" And he threw the stone which he had. As it whirled through the air it became very large and fell into the lake, when, at once, the water began to boil.
Then the boy returned to his grandmother's cabin and told her all about it. She said, "It has been tried again and again, but no one has ever seen him before or has been able to hunt him."
Next morning he went over to the lake and found it all dried up and all the animals dead, and only a large frog remained, into which the man had been turned. So the boy killed the frog, and no more trouble ever came to him or his grandmother.
THE DEAD HUNTER.
A man and his wife went hunting, and after a hard day's march they came to an empty wigwam. So they entered and found in it a dead man, laid out with his tomakawk and all his fine things. They found corn in plenty, and the squaw made bread, and then they all went to bed, the man on one side and the woman and her baby on the other. They placed some of the bread between them, and in the middle of the night they heard a noise, and the dead man was sitting up and eating. The hunter sprang up, "We are all dead folks," cried he, if we remain here"; so he made a pretense, and whispered to the squaw, "You must go for water. I will mind the child." As soon as she was gone, he pinched the baby till it cried. "Oh," said he, "I must follow the mother or the child will die; she is too long fetching the water." He hastened and soon caught up with the woman, but behind him came the dead man, holding a lighted torch. To save themselves they put the child down on the ground, and the hunter seized his wife's hand and hurried her on faster and faster, but the sound of steps behind them was plainer and plainer. So the man let his wife go, and fled on by himself as hard as he could. Soon he came to a hollow log, into
