00-KOO-HOO PLAYS THE GAME 143 



But, perhaps, after all he was no super-man, or, rather, super- 

 lover, for had not Neykia's beau travelled alone in the dead of 

 winter, over ninety miles, just to see her once again and to 

 speak to her? Shing-wauk — The Little Pine — as the Indians 

 called him, stayed three days, but I did not see much of him, 

 for I left early the following morning on another round of 

 another trapping-path. 



OO-KOO-HOO AND THE WOLF 



As a faint gray light crept through the upper branches 

 of the eastern trees and warned the denizens of the winter 

 wilderness of approaching day, the door-skin flapped aside 

 and a tall figure stepped from the cozy fire-lit lodge into the 

 outer sombreness of the silent forest. It was Oo-koo-hoo. 

 His form clad in fox-skin cap, blanket capote, and leggings, made 

 a picturesque silhouette of lighter tone against the darker 

 shadows of the woods as he stood for a moment scanning the 

 starry sky. Re"ntering the lodge, he partook of the breakfast 

 his wife had cooked for him, then he kissed her and went out- 

 side. Going to the stage, he took down his five-foot snowshoes, 

 slipped his moccasined feet into the thongs, and with his gun 

 resting in the hollow of his bemittened hand, and the sled's 

 hauling-line over his shoulder, strode off through the vaulted 

 aisles between the boles of the evergreens; while through a tiny 

 slit in the wall of his moose-skin home two loving eyes watched 

 the stalwart figure vanishing among the trees. 



Later on, though the sun was already shining, it was still 

 intensely cold. As we went along, Oo-koo-hoo's breath rose 

 like a cloud of white smoke fifteen or twenty feet in the air 

 before it disappeared. Only the faintest whisper of scuffling 

 snowshoes and scrunching snow could be heard; the sound of 

 the occasional snapping of a twig came as a startling report 

 compared with the almost noiseless tread of the hunter. A 



