Another blow, still another. Would the great shell-fish never loosen its grip? Another ringing, cracking blow, and just as a larger wave came creeping stealthily inshore and broke over them, the giant clam loosened its awful hold upon the foot of the little mother gull, and the two birds with long, plaintive cries mounted into the free air. Dipping low just once over the incoming tide to snatch a herring from the waves in their beaks, away they flew swiftly back to the little gulls, who were impatiently awaiting their coming back upon the lonely ledges, far above the breakers. CHAPTER X HOW KOS-KO-MENOS, THE KINGFISHER, WON HIS BELT Heaps of strange events in Nature go unexplained. Some say 'tis because the wonderful old Indian story tellers who knew many wood secrets are gone. Long ago the little Indian children loved to squat beside some smouldering lodge fire and listen to these tales--these hidden secrets told of their little brothers of the wood. They were told how Moo-wee-suk, the racoon, always wore five rings about his plumy tail, why the red-winged blackbird is branded with two spots of living fire on its jetty wings, why the woodpecker carries a bright splash of fresh blood upon his crest, and also why the badger is always a kind of joke, just because of his war-paint markings. Some tales remain untold and one of them is how Kos-ko-menos, the great kingfisher, won his beautiful blue belt. Dee-dee-askh, the blue jay, had wintered in the deep pine forests instead of flying south one autumn. Wild berries had been plentiful that year and the greedy jay hated to leave behind such good feasting, so he remained behind the migrating birds. He was glad though when the long, cold months of "The Snow Shoes" passed, for he was tired of feeding upon pine-cone seeds, or anything which he could pick up in the forest. The snow had begun to melt away from the south sides of the hills and the mountain brooks roared tremendously, breaking free from their strong ice prisons, making pleasant music through the valleys and in the rocky passes of the mountains. The crows were colonising, coming out from their retreats in the thick pine coverts, where they had huddled all winter to keep from freezing. They cawed hoarsely to each other. The jay screamed loudly, trying to drown their cries and break up their council. Dee-dee-askh is not popular with the wood people, for he has always had the bad reputation of being a thief. He loves to watch smaller birds at their nest building and rob them of their eggs or the very young birds; no wonder he is unpopular.