"They kiss me, embrace me--weep over me as though I were going to die. I think they mean it for Sprigg; but Sprigg is dead already--passed away into nothing. They have lost him and found me, though they do not seem to know the difference yet. That is the way, I think; or why should they keep on calling me for him? They shall never see their old Sprigg again. Never! Never!" A sleep-like pause. "Sprigg had a pair of red moccasins--long, long ago, when I was a little, a very little boy. I think he had them; and I think he put them on and wore them, far, far away, when he had been forbidden to do so. Yes, I am sure of it now; for I remember telling him how wrong he was doing, and that he ought not to think of such a thing. But he wouldn't listen to me; he would have his own way. Whither he went, he never knew to his dying day; for his eyes and thoughts were so bewitched by his moccasins that he quite forgot everything else; and, so, soon got completely lost. It was a wild and lonely place where Sprigg found himself when he came to his senses. A great hill, whose top was in a sky all burning and red with the light of the setting sun. Sprigg blamed the moccasins for his mishap; was very angry at them--jerked them from his feet and flung them away. But here they came right back again, walking, walking straight up to him. With the red moccasins came a red mist; and out of the mist would frightful shapes, with long, sharp claws, or long, sharp horns and fiery eyes, come stealing forth, one after one. They scared Sprigg almost to death, and would have torn him to pieces; but ever, just as they would be making to spring upon him, would the red moccasins dart in between--kick them in their ugly eyes and drive them back into the mist. "By and by Sprigg was moving swiftly through the dark forest--borne onward, he knew not how; and ever before him a great ball of dim, white light. The ball of light sank into the earth, growing brighter and brighter. Sprigg sank with it, deeper, deeper, till far down there he found himself in a world where there was no sun, no moon, and yet was it very bright. Thousands and thousands of little people, all going one way, went gliding swiftly by; so swiftly that they seemed to be on wings. Some of them were very funny to look at; some wild, some savage; but all were beautiful, and all were terrible. Sprigg was desperately afraid of the little people--'Manitous,' they called themselves. Though he need not have feared them; for, let them look as they might, they had no thought for him but love and to do him kindness. I told Sprigg the Manitous were loving him all the time, but he would not believe me. He was too bad to trust them or anybody else. "Sprigg was a liar--with a lie in his mouth had he sneaked off from home--sneaked off 'like a spit-thief dog.' The Manitous said so; I heard them say it.