" "Yes,"
replied the old woman, "and well and wisely thou speakest, my son. But
we have this day broken our kettle, while Marten has brought in a new
one. Behold, I will go and borrow it, and having cooked in it I will
wash and wipe it, so that there shall be no sign of what we did
therewith, and so return it."
Now, this was done, but he who is _moalet_ and a haunter of feasts
is like a hunter of beasts: he knows well from a small sign where there
is a large load, and the borrowing of kettles means the boiling of
victuals therein. So having in him somewhat of sorcery, he did but step
to his friend's wigwam, and, peeping through a crevice, saw a great
store of bear's meat. And when the grandmother of Moose came unto him
to return the kettle, just as she entered the lodge there arose from it
a savory steam, and looking in it was full of well-cooked food. And
Marten thanked her greatly, yet she, being put to shame, fled to her
own home. But Moose said it was no matter, so the next day they went to
the woods together, and all was well.
Now it befell Marten, as it might have befallen any other man, that one
day he came to a distant and lonely lake in the mountains. Yet there,
stepping softly as a cat behind the rocks bung with grapevines, he
heard laughing and splashing, and a pleasant sound as of girls' voices.
So, peeping carefully, he saw many maids merrily bathing in the lake:
and these were of the fairy race, who dwell in deep waters and dark
caves, and keep away from mankind.
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