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But as soon as I finished speaking I heard the Thing creeping away. In the morning I found it had left the track of one small torn moccasin and a strange misshapen lump. It came up from and disappeared into the creek, so I was sure it must have been a Gahonga. But that evening as I sat by my fire I was aware of it behind me.
That is right, of course, if the visitor is hungry; but this one had wiped out his tracks with a leafy bough, which looked like trickery. "It came into my mind that it might have been one of the Gahonga, the spirits that dwell in rocks and rivers and make the season fruitful." "Oh!" cried Dorcas, "Indian fairies! Did you have those?" "There are spirits in all things," said the Onondaga gravely.
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