“The Indian guides who had accompanied Field part way up the mountains,” continued Nathalie, “refused to go any farther, for fear that the Great Spirit, who they believed lived in a magnificent palace on the highest peak, would destroy them if they ventured too near him. They were so surprised to see Field return in safety a few hours later that they decided he was a god, for during his absence a great storm had arisen, which they believed had been sent by the Indian Manitou to kill him. The redmen not only believed that the Great Spirit sent forth the frost and snow, as well as the rain and fire,—the lightning—but declared that the thunder was his voice.” The Indian legend of Pawan was eagerly listened to, as Nathalie told how the Indians asserted that when the earth was covered with water and every one was drowned, he and his wife, carrying a hare, had ascended to the highest peak. When the waters began to abate, Pawan sent forth the hare, and when it did not return he and his wife descended to the earth and dwelt there in safety, for the waters had dried up from off the land. From this man, the Indians declared, every one on the earth had descended. During the recital of these stories, Sheila’s red-brown eyes darkened to black, and every mountain peak assumed a weird and wonderful personality to her imaginative mind, fed, as it had been, by stories of fairies, pixies, and gnomes, as told to her by Danny, when playing the little mother. But the tourists now found that their appetites had been whetted by the keen mountain air, and gladly started on their homeward way to enjoy the supper that awaited them. After tea they gathered on the veranda, and Tony entertained them by playing on his violin. Nathalie soon discovered that he not only played with considerable skill, but that Danny could whistle like a bird, while Jean and Sheila could pipe forth snatches of song in clear, childish trebles. The boys were rendered exuberantly happy a few days later at the unexpected arrival of Mr. Banker, who had come to give them a day’s outing at Littleton. Morning chores, military tactics, and other occupations were quickly forgotten, as Nathalie and her mother made them tidy for the trip, Danny, by the way, having kindly washed Jean’s one shirt the day before,—a housewifely occupation that he had become proficient in, from sheer necessity,—and Nathalie had ironed it.