Far to the north lived Wild Duck. His lodge was by the frozen lake. Winter was beginning, and he had but four logs of wood for his fire.

"Four logs will do," he said. "Each log will burn for many sleeps, and then spring will be on the way."

Wild Duck was as brave as a warrior. On the coldest days he went to the lake to fish. He found the rushes that grew high above the water. With his strong bill he pulled up the frozen plant stems. Then he dived through the holes he had made in the ice and caught the fish swimming beneath.

In this way he found plenty of food. Every day he went home to his lodge dragging strings of fish. North Wind blew his fiercest blasts, but no wind was cold enough to keep Wild Duck in his wigwam.

"This is a strange duck!" said North Wind. "He seems as happy as if it were the moon of strawberries. He is hard to conquer, but I will freeze him."

So the wind blew colder and colder, and great drifts of snow were piled up about the wigwam. But still the fire burned brightly. The duck went daily to the lake, and daily he brought home fish.

"Soon I will visit him," said North Wind. "Then he shall feel my power."

That very night North Wind went to the door of the wigwam. He lifted the curtain and looked in.

Wild Duck had cooked his fish and was lying before the bright fire. He was singing a song to his enemy.

"You may blow as hard as you can, North Wind," he sang. "I dare you to freeze me. You may pile the snow to the top of my lodge. I shall climb the drifts and go fishing just the same."

"How dare a little duck sing like this about me?" blustered North Wind. "I will enter. I will blow my cold breath upon him, and he will freeze."

North Wind pushed his way through the door and sat down on the opposite side of the lodge. Cold blasts filled the hut.

Was Wild Duck afraid? He got up and poked the fire, singing his song louder and louder. Not once did he look at his guest.

"Does he not know that I am here?" thought North Wind.

The little duck stirred the great log until it crackled and snapped.

"I cannot stand this heat," said North Wind to himself. "I am melting. I must go out." The water was dripping from his hair, and tears ran down his cheeks. He crept out of the wigwam and left Wild Duck to his songs.

"What a wonderful duck!" he said. "I cannot freeze him, I cannot even stop his singing. The spirit of the fire is helping him, and I will let him alone."

And to this day you can see the wild duck fishing where the rushes grow. He is warm in his coat of thick feathers, and North Wind can never freeze the brave little duck.