"Once upon a time, when the world was very young, there was an evil Manitou named _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He was a very wicked Manitou, but he was also very accomplished, for he could change himself into any shape he wished to assume, and he could travel swifter than the wind. But he was also very wicked. In old times the centres of all the trees were fat, and people could get food from them, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ walked through the forest and pushed his staff down through the middle of the trunks, and that is why the cores of the trees are dark-coloured. Maple sap used to be pure sirup once, too, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ diluted it with rain water just out of spite. But there was one peculiar thing about _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He could not cross a vein of gold or of silver. There was some sort of magic in them that turned him back--repelled him. "Now, one day two lovers were wandering about on the prairie away east of here. One of them was named _Mon-e-dowa_, or the Bird Lover, and the other was _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, or Rippling Water. And as these two walked over the plains talking together, along came the evil spirit, _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_, and as soon as he saw them he chased them, intending to kill them and drink their blood, as was his custom. "They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_ stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that _Mon-e-dowa_ stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly. "Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad cañon and concealed themselves. "Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the cañon too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went away. "Then _Mon-e-dowa_ and _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, who had been living quite peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the cañon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they knew they had been aided by _Man-a-boo-sho_, the good Manitou." The girl arose and shook her skirt free of the pine needles that clung to it. "Ever since then," she went on, eyeing Bennington saucily sideways, "the mountain has been invisible except to a very few. The legend says that when a maid and a warrior see it together they will be----" "What?" asked Bennington as she paused. "Dead within the year!" she cried gaily, and ran lightly to her pony. "Did you like my legend?" she asked, as the ponies, foot-bunched, minced down the steepest of the trail. "Very much; all but the moral."