THE WINTER-SPIRIT AND HIS VISITOR
From: The Indian Fairy Book , The Original Legends
Author: Cornelius Mathews
He walked with a light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a wreath of sweet grass, in place of the warrior's frontlet, and he carried a bunch of flowers in his hand.
He then drew from his sack a curiously-wrought antique pipe, and having filled it with tobacco, rendered mild by an admixture of certain dried leaves, he handed it to his guest. When this ceremony was attended to, they began to speak.
"I blow my breath," said the old man, "and the streams stand still. The water becomes stiff and hard as clear stone."
"I shake my ringlets," rejoined the young man, "and warm showers of soft rain fall upon the earth.
At length the sun began to rise. Gentle warmth came over the place. The tongue of the old man became silent. The robin and the blue-bird began to sing on the top of the lodge.
As the sun increased he grew less and less in stature, and presently he had melted completely away.