will sing his best." When in the evening the
whippoorwill started his song with vim, no further
than a stone's throw from our tent in the woods,
she would say to me:

"Hush! It may be an Ojibway scout!"

Again, when I waked at midnight, she would
say:

"Do not cry! Hinakaga (the owl) is watch-
ing you from the tree-top."

I usually covered up my head, for I had perfect
faith in my grandmother's admonitions, and she
had given me a dreadful idea of this bird. It was
one of her legends that a little boy was once stand-
ing just outside of the teepee (tent), crying vigor-
ously for his mother, when Hinakaga swooped
down in the darkness and carried the poor little
fellow up into the trees. It was well known that
the hoot of the owl was commonly imitated by
Indian scouts when on the war-path. There had
been dreadful massacres immediately following this
call. Therefore it was deemed wise to impress
the sound early upon the mind of the child.

Indian children were trained so that they hardly
ever cried much in the night. This was very ex-
pedient and necessary in their exposed life. In my