“Dry that meat in the sun,” he said to his grandmother, “and you will have food in plenty until I return. I am going on a journey to other hunting grounds where game is bigger and more plentiful.” Then he slung his snow shoes over his shoulder, for it was nearing the cold days, caught up his bow and arrows and his hunting knife, and strode off toward the north. As he journeyed he saw many a fine deer and moose. Some he shot, others he let go unharmed, for he was always seeking bigger game. Ever the wind grew more cold and cutting, the grass and leaves began to wither and disappear, and soon there was a covering of ice on the water and a blanket of snow on the ground. But A-wah-nee put on his snow shoes and went skimming away, until at last he came to a huge wigwam almost buried in the drifts of snow. There was a thread of smoke curling up from the top, and A-wah-nee, who had begun to feel cold and weary, lifted the tent flap and walked in. There was but one person in the wigwam, a very old giant, with deep wrinkles in his face, and snow white hair and beard. When he spoke, his great voice sounded like the howling of the north wind in the pine trees. “Ho! young brave,” he cried. “Who are you? Whence come you? What do you want in my wigwam?” “I am A-wah-nee,” answered the young man proudly; “mightiest hunter of my tribe. I have killed all the game worthy of my bow, and now seek new quarry, bigger and fleeter. But tell me your name, old man.” “Winter!” roared the white haired giant in such a fierce tone that A-wah-nee began to feel afraid of him. “I rule the Kingdom of Cold. I bring the snow and ice. My breath kills all it touches. But sit down if you are not afraid of me. I bid you welcome.” A-wah-nee was ashamed to show his fear after the boasting remark he had made at first, so he sat down by the giant’s fire, took a bit of moose meat from a leather pouch at his side, and began to eat it. While the old man related tales of great hunts and battles of his younger days and told of the wonderful deeds the frost giants had wrought at his bidding. A-wah-nee was amazed at these stories, which made him feel that perhaps, after all, he was not as great a hunter as he had believed. Presently, in spite of the glowing fire beside him, the young brave began to feel very chilly. His teeth chattered and he tried to jump up and run about to warm himself. But he could not move. Something seemed to hold him hand and foot; his head fell forward and he rolled over on the ground, fast asleep. The giant laughed until he fairly shook the forest, and the echoes went rolling along like distant thunder. “You’ll have a good sleep, my boy, before you hunt again,” he laughed, as he strode out of the wigwam, chuckling.