256 THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS 



across the shoulders that she slew his chuckle of laughter the 

 moment it was born. Then, as the dust settled, silence reigned. 

 A little later, as Granny put more wood upon the fire, she 

 turned to me with twinkling eyes and said: 



"My son, if you could have seen the old loon when he was 

 courting me, it would have filled your heart with laughter. It 

 is true he was always a loon, for in those days Oo-koo-hoo, the 

 great hunter, was even afraid of his own shadow, for he never 

 dared call upon me in daylight, and even when he came sneak- 

 ing round at night he always took good care that it was at a 

 time when my father was away from home. Furthermore, he 

 always chose a stormy evening when the snow would be drifting 

 and thus cover his trail; and worse still, when he came to court 

 me he always wore women's snowshoes; because, my son, he 

 had not courage enough to come as a man." 



This sally, however, only made Oo-koo-hoo smile the more 

 as he puffed away at his brier. 



"Did he always bring your grandmother a present?" I 

 enquired. 



"No, my son, not always, he was too stingy," replied the old 

 woman, "but he did once in a while, I must grant him that." 



"What was it?" 



"Oh, just a few coils of tripe." 



But Granny, of course, was joking, that was why she did not 

 explain that deer tripe filled with blood was as great a delicacy 

 as a suitor could offer his prospective grandmother-in-law; 

 for among certain forest tribes, it is the custom that a marriage- 

 able daughter leaves the lodge of her parents and takes up her 

 abode with her grandmother — that is, if the old lady is living 

 within reasonable distance. 



Shing-wauk — The Little Pine — had come that day, and had 

 been invited to sleep in Amik's tepee; yet he spent the greater 

 part of his time sitting with Neykia in her grandmother's lodge. 

 As there are no cozy corners in a tepee, it is the Ojibway custom 



