in the Canadian Rockies.

When he had finished the girls rose and stretched themselves, and
then began to clamor for "more celebration." Nyoda suggested a
fire-building contest. Each girl was to have three minutes in
which to collect material and get a fire started. No paper was
allowed and only three matches. What a scramble there was to
find small dry twigs! There was a smart breeze blowing, and most
of the matches went out as soon as lighted, putting their owners
out of the contest. Sahwah was wise and piled her twigs where a
huge stump sheltered them from the wind; Hinpoha sat between hers
and the wind. Even then it was difficult to get the twigs to
burn. It seemed as if they were in league against the contestants
and firmly refused to light.

"Two and a half minutes," called Nyoda warningly, her watch in
her hand.

"Mine's burning," shouted Hinpoha, jumping up as the flames began
to curl up from the twigs. Just then a gust of wind came up, and
pouf! out went the fire.

"Time's up!" called Nyoda, and Sahwah rose from her knees,
disclosing a neat little blaze. She had wisely sheltered her
fire until the last second, giving it a chance to kindle well.

Now it was the custom of the Winnebagos to have a folk story told
by one of their number right after supper, but as the visitors
would have to leave early Nyoda asked if the girls wouldn't like
to tell the folk story before supper. They agreed, as usual, to