WONDER TALES OP THE FOREST 117 She went back to her mat, and began to cry. Her mother and her brothers and her sisters were there, and she could not let them in out of the storm! And then she heard the trembling voice of her poor, old father. " 'Ntoos! 'Ntoos' Pantahdooe! loke cyowchee! My daughter, my daughter! Open the door unto me, for I am very cold." Ah! She could not leave her poor old father out in the cold and storm! She sprang to her feet, tore away the post that held the door, and opened it! And there fell upon her the evil people of the forest, like a pack of wolves, and they did not leave so much as one little bone upon an¬ other. And kespeadooksit—the story ends.