Poor little Wasewahto! Though he was among friends, he grieved continually for the loss of his dear giant, as did all the tribe, though not as bitterly. He could not be tempted with even the daintiest foods, and he did not care to play any more. The Indians made him splendid bows and arrows, and the medicine-man carved a rattle for him out of a buffalo bone, but nothing seemed to make him happy. As winter came on he grew thinner and paler and sadder every day, and shivered at the slightest breeze. At last his friends could bear it no longer, and begged him to tell them what, next to having the giant back again, would make him happiest. He answered at once, “Take me where the summer is. If I could see flowers in the woods, and could shoot at the birds with my bow and arrows again, I believe I could be happy.” “Then we will hunt for the summer-land, oh little Wasewahto,” they cried, and set out the next day at sunrise. For many days they traveled toward the south, and at last, on the shores of a great lake, they came upon a strange tepee. It was that of a hostile tribe, however, and so Wasewahto’s friends hid themselves in the rushes by the water’s edge, and called on the beaver to help them. “What you seek is indeed here,” said the wise old animal, when they had told him their story, “And I will help you.” Accordingly he asked the moose to swim to the middle of the lake, and in the meantime he began gnawing busily at the canoe paddles of the hostile tribe, not enough to saw them off entirely, but merely to weaken them. Suddenly there was a shout from the tepee. Someone had seen the moose and all were eager to chase him. The enemies of Wasewahto and his friends ran to the shore, leaped into their canoes, and put out after the moose. When they were well out into the middle of the lake the beaver led Wasewahto and his friends into the tepee by a hidden tent flap, so that they might not be seen from the water side. From the very top of the highest tent pole there hung a great leather bag. As soon as he saw it, Wasewahto began to smile, a little at first, then more and more, and at last, laughing aloud, he caught up his little bow and arrows and aimed straight at the hanging pouch. As the dart pierced the leather, the wigwam was suddenly filled with the twittering of birds, and in another instant they came flying out of the bag and out of the tepee--thousands of them, robins, woodpeckers, swallows, orioles, jays, wrens, bluebirds, and many others. For summer had been tied up in the leather pouch, there to hang quietly until another year. The Indians on the lake had by this time discovered that there were intruders in their camp, and that summer, placed in their keeping, had been set free. Desperately they began to head for shore, but now under the strain all the paddles broke, and the Indians were left floating on the lake, screaming with helpless rage, while the moose swam away to cover.