Peboan became silent. His head drooped lower and lower.
The sun shone forth, and the snow melted beneath its rays.
Then Spring waved his hands over the sleeping Peboan, and he sank upon the ground. Smaller and smaller he grew. His clothing seemed turned to furry leaves, and covered the floor of the tepee.
The youth smiled, for Peboan was gone.
Softly he lifted the furry leaves, and beneath each cluster he placed blossoms of white and pink. He breathed upon them with his fragrant breath, and they became sweet. Their spicy odor filled all the tepee.
Then the youth laughed gladly, and went his way.
The sun shone, and the children of the little Indian village ran from their homes, and danced and sang in its warmth. A bird was caroling in the tree top, and they stopped to listen. The stream shook off its icy covering and went singing down its course. The children followed it.
They came to the spot where the tepee of Peboan had stood. And lo! all the ground was covered with fragrant flowers.
