I whispered to Lois. “Is it not strangely pretty?”

“It is wild music, but sweet,” she murmured, “ — the music of the Little People — che-kah-a-hen-wah.”

“Can you catch the words?”

“Aye, but do not understand them every one.”

“Some day I will make them into an English song for you. Listen! ‘The Voices’ are beginning! Listen attentively to the Chant of Ta-neh-u-weh-too!”

The Night Hawk was singing now, as he walked through the sunlit glade, hip-deep in scented ferns and jewel-weed. Two brilliant humming-birds whirled around him as he strode.

A VOICE