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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Stories the Iroquois Tell Their Children, by Mabel Powers.
+    </title>
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Stories the Iroquois Tell Their Children, by Mabel Powers
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Stories the Iroquois Tell Their Children
+
+Author: Mabel Powers
+
+Release Date: July 18, 2007 [EBook #22096]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THE IROQUOIS TELL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Janet Blenkinship and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 465px;">
+<img src="images/imgcover.jpg" width="465" height="600" alt="cover" title="cover" />
+</div>
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 363px;">
+<img src="images/img001.jpg" width="363" height="600" alt="frontispiece" title="frontispiece" />
+</div>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<h1><img src="images/img002a.jpg" width="150" height="136" alt="" title="" />STORIES<img src="images/img002a.jpg" width="150" height="136" alt="" title="" /></h1>
+
+  <h1>THE IROQUOIS<br />
+  TELL THEIR<br />
+  CHILDREN</h1>
+
+  <div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/img002c.jpg" width="400" height="304" alt="title decoration" title="title decoration" />
+
+</div>
+
+  <h2>MABEL POWERS<br />
+  (YEH SEN NOH WEHS)</h2>
+
+
+  <p class="center">AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY<br />
+  NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO<br /><br />
+
+  Copyright, 1917, by<br />
+  Mabel Powers.<br />
+  <i>All rights reserved.</i><br /><br />
+
+
+  W. P. 9</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h4>
+<span class="smcap">To all the Children who ask<br />
+How and Why,<br />
+especially those Red Children<br />
+who see with wonder eyes,<br />
+and those Paleface Children<br />
+who yet believe in fairies,<br />
+these stories are lovingly dedicated</span>
+</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 298px;">
+<img src="images/img004.jpg" width="298" height="350" alt="dedication decoration" title="dedication decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class='centered'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="65%" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS">
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><span class="smcap">Page</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Acknowledgment</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_8'><b>8</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Foreword by the Chiefs</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_9'><b>9</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><th align='center' colspan="2">INTRODUCTORY</th></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Stories came to Be</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_11'><b>11</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why I was called the Story-teller</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_13'><b>13</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Little People</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_18'><b>18</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Story-telling Time</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_23'><b>23</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Iroquois give Thanks</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_27'><b>27</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Firemaker and a Peacemaker</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_34'><b>34</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><th align='center' colspan="2">IROQUOIS WONDER STORIES</th></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the White Man came</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_45'><b>45</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Eagle defends Americans</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_49'><b>49</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Turkey Buzzard Got His Suit</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_60'><b>60</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Partridge drums</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_66'><b>66</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Indians learned to Heal</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_69'><b>69</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why Dogs chase Foxes</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_75'><b>75</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why Hermit Thrush is so Shy</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_79'><b>79</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How Good and Evil came to Be</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_85'><b>85</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How a Boy was Cured of Boasting</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_90'><b>90</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Cuckoo is so Lazy</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_95'><b>95</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Coon outwitted the Fox</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_99'><b>99</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Goldfinches look like the Sun</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_103'><b>103</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">What the Ash and the Maple Learned</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_107'><b>107</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Woman overcame the Bear</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_112'><b>112</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Woodpecker bores for its Food</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_115'><b>115</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Ice Roof Fell</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_119'><b>119</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Chipmunk has Black Stripes</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_122'><b>122</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How Two Indian Boys settled a Quarrel</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_125'><b>125</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How Mice overcame the Warriors</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_130'><b>130</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why Crows are Poor</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_135'><b>135</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Indian loves his Dog</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_139'><b>139</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Greedy Fawn and the Porridge</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_145'><b>145</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why Hounds outrun other Animals</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_152'><b>152</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why Indians never shoot Pigeons</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_155'><b>155</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How Old Man Winter was driven Back</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_159'><b>159</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why Lightning sometimes Strikes</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_168'><b>168</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Why the Hare has a Split Lip and Short Tail</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_176'><b>176</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Corn Plume and Bean Maiden</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_180'><b>180</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Robin burned his Breast</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_187'><b>187</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><th align='center' colspan="2">IROQUOIS FAIRY STORIES</th></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How Morning Star lost her Fish</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_195'><b>195</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How Little Shooter lost his Luck</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_201'><b>201</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How an Indian Boy won his Name</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_205'><b>205</b></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Fairies worked Magic</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_211'><b>211</b></a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ACKNOWLEDGMENT" id="ACKNOWLEDGMENT"></a>ACKNOWLEDGMENT</h2>
+
+
+
+<p>If the Red Children had not welcomed the writer to their lodge fires,
+these stories the Iroquois tell their children could not have been
+retold. With one or two exceptions, the ideas found in the stories have
+been had from the lips of the Indians themselves. To <span class="smcap">Arthur C.
+Parker</span>&mdash;<i>Ga wa so wa neh</i>&mdash;for his careful review of the stories and
+assistance in securing authentic Iroquois illustrations; and to the
+following story-tellers who so kindly welcomed her to their lodges, and
+told her stories, the writer is most grateful.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class='centered'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="85%" cellspacing="0" summary="ACKNOWLEDGMENT">
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Edward Cornplanter</span> (<i>So son do wah</i>&mdash;"Great Night")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">William Patterson</span> (<i>Ga reh hwonts</i>&mdash;"Power has come down")</td><td align='left'>Tuscarora Deer</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Moses Shongo</span> (<i>Ho non da a suh</i>&mdash;"Keeper of the hills")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Clifford Shongo</span> (<i>Ouhn yah dah goh</i>&mdash;"Very dark blue sky")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Charles Doxon</span> (<i>Hoh squa sa ga dah</i>&mdash;"Woodsman")</td><td align='left'>Onondaga Turtle</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Daniel George</span> (<i>Jo ha a ga dah</i>&mdash;"Roadscraper")</td><td align='left'>Onondaga Eel</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mary Printup</span> (<i>Wah le sa loh</i>)</td><td align='left'>Mohawk Snipe</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dan Williams</span> (<i>Oh geh rah u reh ru ha neh</i>&mdash;"Running Bear")</td><td align='left'>Tuscarora Bear</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Eli Henry</span></td><td align='left'>Tuscarora Deer</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Harriett Pembleton</span> (<i>Gah do rehn tah</i>&mdash;"Dropping Husks")</td><td align='left'>Tuscarora Turtle</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Amos Killbuck</span> (<i>Har wen do dyoh</i>&mdash;"He has forsaken early dawn")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Alfred Jimeson</span> (<i>Har neh a oh</i>&mdash;"Hatchet in his hands")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Heron</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">William Hoag</span> (<i>O no nah</i>&mdash;"Very cold")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ellen Pierce Shongo</span> (<i>Yea wen noh aih</i>&mdash;"The high word")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Baptist Thomas</span> (<i>Sa ha whe</i>&mdash;"Long feather")</td><td align='left'>Onondaga Turtle</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Albert Cusick</span> (<i>Sha go na qua da</i>&mdash;"Made them mad")</td><td align='left'>Onondaga Eel</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Theodore Jimeson</span> (<i>Jah o yah</i>)</td><td align='left'>Seneca Snipe</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">David Warrior</span> (<i>Dwen o gwah</i>)</td><td align='left'>Cayuga White Heron</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Willett Jimeson</span> (<i>So i as ah</i>&mdash;"Owner of fine cornstalks")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Nancy Greysquirrel</span> (<i>Gah gwah tah</i>&mdash;"One who lifts")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Bear</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Emily Tallchief</span> (<i>Gi das was</i>&mdash;"Wind blowing through corn")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Turtle</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Louise Pierce Logan</span> (<i>Ga yah was</i>&mdash;"The quivering heaven")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Thomas Jones</span> (<i>Gah ne yehs</i>&mdash;"The dropping snow")</td><td align='left'>Seneca Wolf</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="FOREWORD" id="FOREWORD"></a>FOREWORD</h2>
+
+
+<p>Once our fathers own these lands of New York State. Once the Iroquois
+were great people. Their council fires burn from Hudson on east to Lake
+Erie on west, from rising to setting sun. Then White man come. He ask
+for small seat size buffalo skin. He take larger and larger one, till
+Indian have but small place to sit.</p>
+
+<p>Now we have little left but stories of our fathers. They, too, will soon
+be lost and forgotten, but a voice has come to speak for us. <i>Yeh sen
+noh wehs</i>&mdash;the one who tells the stories&mdash;will carry these stories of
+our fathers to Paleface. She will help White man to understand Indian,
+Indian to be understood. She will have all men brothers.</p>
+
+<p>Indian's heart is glad that <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i>, our white friend, has
+come to us. She have good eyes. She see right. She like things Indian.
+She try to preserve them. Our old men and women tell her the stories
+told them, many, many moons ago, when little children.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> write down these stories so our children and our
+children's children may read and know them; and so Paleface Children may
+learn them also. Indian tell these stories to his children to make them
+good and brave and kind and unselfish. May they teach Paleface Children
+how they should do.</p>
+
+<p>Again we say, Indian is glad to have some one speak for him. He is glad
+to have some one write down the great and beautiful thoughts in Indian's
+mind and heart. We have spoken. <i>Na ho.</i></p>
+
+<h3>Chief of Seneca Nation,</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img009a.jpg" width="600" height="92" alt="Chief of Seneca Nation" title="Chief of Seneca Nation" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>Chief of Onondagas,</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img009b.jpg" width="600" height="82" alt="Chief of Onondagas" title="Chief of Onondagas" />
+</div>
+
+<h3>Chief of Tuscaroras,</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img009c.jpg" width="600" height="86" alt="Chief of Tuscaroras" title="Chief of Tuscaroras" />
+</div>
+
+<h3>Chief of Oneidas,</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img009d.jpg" width="600" height="92" alt="Chief of Oneidas" title="Chief of Oneidas" />
+</div>
+
+<h3>Chief of Cayugas,</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img009e.jpg" width="600" height="101" alt="Chief of Cayugas" title="Chief of Cayugas" />
+</div>
+
+<h3>Chief of Mohawks,</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img009f.jpg" width="600" height="98" alt="Chief of Mohawks" title="Chief of Mohawks" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_STORIES_CAME_TO_BE" id="HOW_THE_STORIES_CAME_TO_BE"></a>HOW THE STORIES CAME TO BE</h2>
+
+
+<p>Out of the moons of long ago, these stories have come. Then every tribe
+of the Iroquois had its story-teller.</p>
+
+<p>When the Old Man of the North came out of his lodge, and the forests and
+rivers of the Red Children grew white with his breath, these story-tellers wandered from wigwam to wigwam.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<p>Seated on warm skins by the fire, the story-teller would exclaim,
+"<i>Hanio</i>!" This meant, "Come, gather round, and I will tell a story."</p>
+
+<p>Then all the Red Children would cry, "<i>Heh</i>," and draw close to the
+fire. This meant that they were glad to hear the story. And as the
+flames leaped and chased one another along the fire trail, they would
+listen to these wonder stories of the Little People, of the trees and
+flowers, of birds, of animals, and men. When the story-teller had
+finished, he said, "<i>Na ho</i>." This meant, "It is the end."</p>
+
+<p>The earth was very young, when the Red Children first learned how
+everything came to be, and just why it is that things are as they are.
+They told these wonderful things to their children, and their children
+in turn told them to their children; and those children again in turn
+told them to theirs, that these things might not be forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>Now, but few of the Red Children know these stories that the
+grandmothers and old men of the tribe used to tell. The story-teller is
+no longer seen wandering from wigwam to wigwam.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img011.jpg" width="500" height="190" alt="Chapter footer" title="" />
+
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_I_WAS_CALLED_THE_STORY-TELLER" id="WHY_I_WAS_CALLED_THE_STORY-TELLER"></a>WHY I WAS CALLED THE STORY-TELLER</h2>
+
+
+<p>Some time ago the writer of these stories was asked to speak for an
+Indian Society. She accepted the invitation, and that night made her
+first Indian friends.</p>
+
+<p>Her new friends told her many beautiful things about the Red Children.
+The more the writer learned about the Iroquois people, and things
+Indian, the more interested she became. After a time she began to tell
+the Paleface the things she had learned.</p>
+
+<p>Soon, one of the tribes, the Senecas&mdash;the tribe to which her new friends
+belonged&mdash;heard that she was speaking for them. They wished to honor
+her, so they asked her to be present at their Green-Corn Feast, and
+become one of them.</p>
+
+<p>So when the Green-Corn moon hung her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> horn in the night sky, the writer
+found the trail to the Land of the Senecas. There the Senecas adopted
+her into the Snipe clan of their nation. She was called <i>Yeh sen noh
+wehs</i>&mdash;"One who carries and tells the stories."</p>
+
+<p>Thus it was that the writer became one of the Red Children, <i>Yeh sen noh
+wehs</i>&mdash;the Daughter of the Senecas.</p>
+
+<p>The more <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> learned of the Red Children, and their
+simple stories, the more she loved them. One day, <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i>
+said she would be the story-teller not only of the Senecas, but of all
+the tribes of the Iroquois. There are six great families of this people.
+Each family is called a tribe or nation.</p>
+
+<p>Once, the council fires of these six nations burned from the Hudson on
+the east, to Lake Erie on the west, and they were a great and powerful
+people.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was at the time of the Berry Moon that <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> hit the
+story trail. Since then she has journeyed through all the lands of the
+Senecas, the Onondagas, the Cayugas, the Oneidas, the Mohawks, and the
+Tuscaroras.</p>
+
+<p>Like the story-teller of old, <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> wandered from lodge to
+lodge of the Iroquois. "<i>Hanio</i>," she would call, and as the Indians
+gathered round, she would tell them one of the stories that other Indian
+friends had told to her.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes this would remind the Red Children of another story, which
+<i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> did not know, and they would tell it to her. It was
+in this way that these stories have been gathered.</p>
+
+<p>There were many days when <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> told her stories, but none
+were told in return. Few members of the tribes&mdash;these usually the
+oldest&mdash;could remember the stories "they used to tell."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Sometimes <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> heard a story as she trudged along a
+furrow, beside a ragged Indian who was plowing with a more
+ragged-looking team. Or she would listen as she helped an Indian woman
+prepare the evening meal, pick berries, or gather nuts.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img015.jpg" width="550" height="297" alt="berries and nuts" title="berries and nuts" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Sometimes, as <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> sat by a fire down in the depths of a
+beautiful wood, and watched the smoke of the sacred medicine rise, a
+medicine man would tell her a story; or an Indian woman would drop a
+word, as she sat at her door weaving baskets or making beadwork.</p>
+
+<p>These stories <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> has made into a story book, that they
+might not be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> lost and forgotten; that all the Iroquois Red Children and
+their children's children might know and tell them, and that Paleface
+children might learn them as well.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/img016.jpg" width="350" height="202" alt="feather" title="feather" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The American children have no fairies of their own. They must borrow
+their fairies from children of other nations. <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> thought
+it very sad, so she put a magic feather in her cap, and winged moccasins
+on her feet. Then she went on the chase for real American wonder
+stories, and for real American fairies.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>Had there not been a feather in the magic cap she wore, <i>Yeh sen noh
+wehs</i> would not have found them. But the feather pointed the way to the
+Nature Wonder Trail, and there she caught a glimpse of the "Little
+People,"&mdash;the only true American fairies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_PEOPLE" id="THE_LITTLE_PEOPLE"></a>THE LITTLE PEOPLE</h2>
+
+
+<p>All children who live close to Mother Earth come to know and to see the
+fairies of the flowers, the woods, the rocks, and the waters.</p>
+
+<p>These fairies the Iroquois call the <i>Jo gah oh</i>, or "Little People,"
+because they are so small. The Little People can do wonderful things.
+Whatever they wish, they can do. They can fly through the air. They can
+dart under or through the water, into the earth and through the rocks,
+as they please, for they wear invisible moccasins and travel in winged
+canoes.</p>
+
+<p>Their wee babies are carried on the little mothers' backs,&mdash;just like
+the Indian's papoose. The little fathers have wonderful winged bows and
+arrows, that can shoot any distance they wish.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 364px;">
+<img src="images/img018.jpg" width="364" height="600" alt="The Little People bring good luck to the Indians" title="The Little People bring good luck to the Indians" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The Little People bring good luck to the Indians. Whatever Indian boys
+and girls wish for,&mdash;if they wish hard enough, the <i>Jo gah oh</i> will
+bring to them.</p>
+
+<p>It is said that there are three tribes of these Little People,&mdash;those
+that live in the rocks beside streams and lakes, those that hover near
+the flowers and plants, and those that guard the dark places under the
+earth.</p>
+
+<p>The rock Little People are very strong. They can uproot large trees and
+can hurl great rocks. Sometimes they dare the Indians to a test of
+strength with them. They also like to play ball with stones.</p>
+
+<p>The Red Children fear the Stone Throwers, as they call them. But they
+love the little folk that help the flowers to blossom, and the fruit and
+grains to grow and ripen.</p>
+
+<p>They remember these Little People in their Feasts of Thanksgiving, for
+do the <i>Jo gah oh</i> not help the sweet waters of the maple to flow? Do
+they not whisper to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> the growing seeds and show the way to the light? Do
+they not guide the runners of the strawberries, turn the blossoms to the
+sun, and paint the berries red? They also tint the grains, and give to
+the corn its good taste.</p>
+
+<p>A third tribe of Little People dwell under the earth. They guard the
+sacred white buffaloes, and keep the serpent monsters that live in the
+darkness below from coming to the surface to the Red Children.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img020.jpg" width="550" height="256" alt="strawberry runners" title="strawberry runners" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>There are trails that lead out to the sunlight, but the Little People
+guard them close, although sometimes a great serpent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> will find the
+trail of a spring, and will follow it and poison the waters.</p>
+
+<p>Often, at night, these elves of the dark come to the upper world to
+dance with the other Little People.</p>
+
+<p>Wherever you find a tree in a deep, dark part of the wood, around which
+no grass will grow, there you may be sure a dance ring has been formed.
+There the Little People have danced till the moon dropped out of the
+sky.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img021.jpg" width="550" height="194" alt="Dance Rattle" title="Dance Rattle" />
+<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Dance Rattle</span></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="STORY-TELLING_TIME" id="STORY-TELLING_TIME"></a>STORY-TELLING TIME</h2>
+
+
+<p>The old-time Indians say that long, long ago, the Little People made a
+law that stories must not be told in summer.</p>
+
+<p>Summer is the time for work. Bees must store their honey. Squirrels must
+gather their nuts. Men must grow their corn. Trees and plants must leaf,
+and flower, and bear their fruit.</p>
+
+<p>If stories were told, plants, birds, animals, and men would stop their
+work to listen. This would mean poor crops and hungry people. Animals
+would forget to grow their winter coats and lay by their winter stores.
+Birds would fail to start in time for the South.</p>
+
+<p>The old Indians say that the story-teller who disobeys this law of <i>Jo
+gah oh</i> will suffer some misfortune. Winter is the time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> to tell the
+stories, for then the work of animals, plants, and men is done,&mdash;and the
+Little People are fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>No, it is not safe to tell stories in summer. No one knows when a bird,
+or a bee, or a butterfly may be listening, and may tell the chief of the
+Little People. Should the chief of the Little People be offended, he
+might cause something dreadful to happen to the story-teller.</p>
+
+<p>Last summer, the writer of these stories came very near being changed
+into an animal,&mdash;or something worse,&mdash;just for telling stories. So an
+old Indian said. She does not know now how she escaped. She thinks it
+must have been because she was a White Indian. This is how it happened.</p>
+
+<p>It was at the time of the Harvest Moon. <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> spoke for one
+of the tribes at their council house, and she told some of these wonder
+stories.</p>
+
+<p>All went well until the middle of the night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> Then a very old Indian
+came to warn her of her danger. It seems that he had been at the council
+in the evening, and had heard the stories told, many of which he knew.</p>
+
+<p>He told <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> he had expected to see her change into
+something else right then and there. He said he would not dare to tell a
+story. "No, no, me 'fraid, evil come!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Then he wanted to know if <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> was a real Indian. He had
+been told that she was a White Indian, but when he heard her tell the
+stories, he said, he thought she was a real Indian.</p>
+
+<p>When <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> told him that she had not a drop of Indian blood
+running in her veins, he looked very solemn. At last he spoke. He told
+the interpreter to tell her,&mdash;for he spoke but a few words of
+English,&mdash;that the Great Spirit made a snake, a snake; a fox, a fox; a
+muskrat, a muskrat; a coon, a coon; a bear, a bear;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> an Indian, an
+Indian; a White Indian, a White Indian. Each must be snake, fox, coon,
+bear, Indian or White Indian, as long as he lived. Each must be himself.</p>
+
+<p>Then the old man asked what disease <i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> had, that made
+her go around with a feather in her hair, acting like a real Indian, if
+she were a White Indian.</p>
+
+<p><i>Yeh sen noh wehs</i> had no answer. And she does not know to this day,
+what saved her from being changed into a rabbit, a katydid, or something
+worse, by the chief of the Little People. She knows, however, that she
+is very glad she is telling the stories to you, in the <span class="smcap">WINTER</span> time.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img025.jpg" width="500" height="190" alt="shoes" title="shoes" />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_IROQUOIS_GIVE_THANKS" id="HOW_THE_IROQUOIS_GIVE_THANKS"></a>HOW THE IROQUOIS GIVE THANKS</h2>
+
+
+<p>The Iroquois Red Children are a grateful people. The true Iroquois never
+rises after eating without saying, "<i>Niaweh</i>," which means, "I am
+thankful." The others reply, "<i>Niuh</i>,"&mdash;"It is well."</p>
+
+<p>The Red Children never pick a flower without thinking how kind the Great
+Spirit has been, to cause the flowers to grow. They like flowers, and no
+matter how poor the Indian cabin, flowers are always to be found near.</p>
+
+<p>When the Iroquois pick fruit, they give thanks to the Great Spirit. And
+always do they leave some, for the "little brothers of the wood."</p>
+
+<p>They do not try to pick every cherry or berry, or nut or apple, for
+themselves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> Fruits grow for the birds and animals as well as for men,
+and the little brothers of the wood must not be forgotten. Some of
+everything that grows is left for them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/img027.jpg" width="450" height="226" alt="Sap Bucket" title="Sap Bucket" />
+<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Sap Bucket</span></span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p>During the spring and summer, the Iroquois give several thanksgiving
+feasts. The first is early in the spring, at maple-sugar time. As soon
+as the sap begins to flow, the Maple Feast is called.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians gather about a large maple tree. A fire is lighted near,
+upon which one of their number sprinkles tobacco. As the smoke rises, a
+prayer of thanksgiving is made to the Great Spirit, for causing the
+sweet waters of the maple to flow. Then the maple trees are thanked for
+their service<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> to men, and protection is asked for the trees during the
+coming year.</p>
+
+<p>When "the leaf of the dogwood is the size of a squirrel's ear," it is
+planting time. Then an Indian maid goes into the fields and scatters a
+few grains of corn, asking the aid of the Great Spirit for the harvest.
+The Indian always plants his seed with the growing moon, that it may
+grow with the moon.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img028.jpg" width="550" height="238" alt="Strawberry Feast" title="Strawberry Feast" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The next feast is the Strawberry Feast and Dance.</p>
+
+<p>The strawberry is one of the best gifts of the Great Spirit to his
+children. So greatly is it prized that it is thought to grow on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> Sky
+Road that leads to the Happy Hunting Ground. An Indian who has been very
+ill, near death, will say, "I almost ate strawberries."</p>
+
+<p>When the strawberry ripens, the Red Children are happy. They sing their
+praises to the Great Spirit and dance with joy. They remember the Little
+People who have helped to make the berries beautiful, and they have a
+song of praise and dance of thanks for them as well. Without the help of
+the Little People, the strawberries would not be so sweet and ripe.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of the Harvest Moon comes the last feast of the summer. This
+thanksgiving feast lasts four days. The Indians not only give thanks for
+the ripening of the corn, but for every growing thing. Therefore this
+feast is longer than the others, since it takes some time to name all
+the good gifts of the Great Spirit to the Red Children, and to give
+thanks for them all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There is a story<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> of the corn in which the Spirit of the Corn is a
+maiden, not a handsome young chief, as one of the stories claims. This
+Corn Maiden was one of three sisters, and was called <i>Ona tah</i>.</p>
+
+
+<p>The three sister vegetables&mdash;the corn, the bean, and the squash&mdash;were
+called the <i>Di o he ko</i>, which means "those we live on," since they are
+the life-giving vegetables.</p>
+
+<p>These sisters lived together on a hill and were very happy. But one day
+<i>Ona tah</i> wandered away in search of dews for her kernels.</p>
+
+<p>The Evil Spirit was watching. He seized <i>Ona tah</i>, the Spirit of the
+Corn, and sent one of his monsters to blight her fields. The killing
+winds swept over the hill, and the spirits of the squash and bean fled
+before them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Ona tah</i> was held for some time a prisoner in the darkness under the
+earth, by the Evil Spirit.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 316px;">
+<img src="images/img031.jpg" width="316" height="550" alt="life-giving vegetables" title="life-giving vegetables" />
+</div>
+
+<p>At last a sun ray found her and guided her back to her lost hilltop.
+There she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> found that her sisters had fled. She was alone.</p>
+
+<p>Then <i>Ona tah</i> made a vow to the sun that she would never again leave
+her fields. But she sighs for her lost sisters, and mourns the blight
+that came upon her beautiful fields. For since the time when <i>Ona tah</i>
+wandered away and left her fields, the corn has not grown so tall or so
+beautiful as once it did.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 302px;">
+<img src="images/img032.jpg" width="302" height="350" alt="pots" title="pots" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_FIREMAKER_AND_A_PEACEMAKER" id="A_FIREMAKER_AND_A_PEACEMAKER"></a>A FIREMAKER AND A PEACEMAKER</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 97px;">
+<img src="images/img033.jpg" width="97" height="380" alt="Bows and arrows" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In the olden times, tribes of Indians did not always live in one place
+as they do now. They sometimes wandered from one valley or woodland to
+another. When they came to a sheltered place, where there was pure
+running water, and where plenty of game and wood were to be found, they
+would build their lodges and light their council fires.</p>
+
+<p>There they might camp for one moon, or for many moons. As long as their
+arrows brought game on the hunting trails near, they would not break
+camp. But if game grew scarce, or if for any reason<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> they did not like
+the camp ground, they would move farther on.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes they would go several days' journey, before they found a
+camping place such as they liked.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing that was done in making a camp was to secure fire and
+light the council fire. This fire was always kept burning. It never went
+out while they remained.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians loved the fire. It was the gift of the Great Spirit to the
+Red Children. It kept them warm and cooked their food by day, and
+protected them by night.</p>
+
+<p>A line of fires was kept burning around the camp. This protected the Red
+Children from the wild animals, for all animals fear fire, and are
+charmed by it. They might prowl and howl all night long outside the fire
+ring, but never would they attempt to come within that ring. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> the
+Indians could sleep in peace, guarded by the spirits of the fire.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 254px;">
+<img src="images/img035.jpg" width="254" height="350" alt="Fire stick" title="Fire stick" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The Indian that could make fire first became a chief and leader. When it
+was decided to camp at a certain place, a signal would be given. At this
+the young braves would leap into the woods, to see which one first could
+bring back fire. Each had his own secret way of making it. Usually a
+bowstring was twisted about a fire stick, and the stick was turned
+rapidly in a groove. In a few seconds, smoke would rise from the sawdust
+that formed. After a little fanning a flame would leap forth.</p>
+
+
+<p>The Indian whose brain and hand worked swiftest and surest was the
+smartest and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> best man. He became a Firemaker, and was made a chief of
+the tribe. He could do something that the rest could not,&mdash;at least he
+had proved himself to be more skillful. Such a man, it was thought, had
+a better understanding of all things, and therefore could tell the rest
+of the tribe what ought to be done.</p>
+
+<p>He no longer was just a man who ate and slept, walked and ran. He was a
+man with a mind. He could think and could do things. So he became a
+Firemaker chief, and he helped the tribe to think and do.</p>
+
+<p>The Iroquois Red Children believe that there are three kinds of men:
+those that use the body only; those that use body and mind; and those
+that use body, mind, and spirit.</p>
+
+<p>Now it happened that sometimes an Indian grew to be so kind and so
+great, that he could not only strike the fire we see, but the fire we do
+not see,&mdash;the fire of love that burns in the hearts of people.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 368px;">
+<img src="images/img037.jpg" width="368" height="600" alt="fire of love that burns in the hearts of people" title="fire of love that burns in the hearts of people" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p>When an Indian could strike this kind of fire, and warm the hearts not
+only of his own tribe but of all tribes, so that they came to love one
+another, he was a great chief, a Peacemaker chief. Such a man would go
+from tribe to tribe, teaching the people how they should do, so that all
+might live in peace and plenty, like brothers.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 130px;">
+<img src="images/img039.jpg" width="130" height="380" alt="Hominy vessel" title="Hominy vessel" />
+</div>
+
+<p>To be a Peacemaker was the highest seat an Indian could take. Few
+Indians became Peacemaker chiefs, and they were the great men of the
+tribe.</p>
+
+<p>Indian women also might become Peacemakers. At one time the Iroquois had
+a Peace Wigwam, where all disputes and quarrels were settled.</p>
+
+<p>The most beautiful, just, and fair-minded woman of all the tribes was
+chosen to sit in this wigwam. It was her duty to tend the Peace fire,
+and to see that it never went out. She also kept a pot of hominy always
+steaming over the fire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>If two Indians had a dispute, it was the custom for them to run to the
+Peacemaker's wigwam. They entered from opposite sides. Inside the
+wigwam, a deerskin curtain separated them from each other.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>The Peacemaker would listen to the grievance of the one and then to that
+of the other. Then she would draw aside the curtain, get the enemies
+together, and settle the dispute with justice.</p>
+
+
+<p>The two would then eat of the hominy, and depart in peace,&mdash;no longer
+enemies, but friends.</p>
+
+
+<p>No nation could fight another nation without the consent of the
+Peacemaker. Because the peacewomen were wise, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> just, and kind, and
+taught men to love, not fight each other, the Iroquois were for many
+years at peace.</p>
+
+<p>But one day, it is said, a Peacewoman proved untrue to her trust. She
+thought more of her own happiness than that of the nation.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img040.jpg" width="600" height="350" alt="Peace Wigwam" title="Peace Wigwam" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>This woman was very beautiful, and the people loved her. For some time
+she sat in the Peace Wigwam, and tended faithfully the Peace fire.</p>
+
+<p>One day an Oneida and a Cayuga chief fell to quarreling. They sought the
+Peace Wigwam. As they entered and saw the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> young Peacewoman tending the
+fire, each thought he had never seen a woman so beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>Into the heart of each there leaped the desire that she might tend his
+wigwam fire.</p>
+
+<p>The Peacemaker listened to the quarrel of the young chiefs and settled
+it justly. Then each tried to persuade her to leave the Peace fire and
+return with him to his lodge. But the Peacemaker said, "No, I must tend
+the fire, it must be kept burning." The chiefs departed with heavy
+hearts.</p>
+
+<p>But the Oneida chief could not forget the beautiful woman. When a moon
+had passed, he returned to the Peace Wigwam. This time he persuaded the
+Peacemaker to leave her fire and return with him to sit at his wigwam
+door.</p>
+
+<p>The Peace fire flickered and went out. The Iroquois again went on the
+warpath, and for many, many moons, they fought and suffered and died.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+<h2><br /><br /><a name="IROQUOIS_WONDER_STORIES" id="IROQUOIS_WONDER_STORIES"></a>IROQUOIS WONDER STORIES<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 199px;">
+<img src="images/img043.jpg" width="199" height="200" alt="motif" title="motif" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/img044.jpg" width="600" height="180" alt="canoe" title="canoe" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_WHITE_MAN_CAME" id="HOW_THE_WHITE_MAN_CAME"></a>HOW THE WHITE MAN CAME</h2>
+
+
+<p>Long, long before Columbus came to America, the Red Children were here.
+They were the first and only real Americans.</p>
+
+<p>From the Big Sea Water on the east to the Big Sea Water on the west,
+ranged these Children of the Sun, as they called themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Happy and free as the sunlight and air about them, they ran through wide
+forests all their own, or plied their bark canoes up and down the
+streams.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Indian had a dream. This was long before Columbus dreamed his
+dream of the Western World.</p>
+
+<p>In his dream the Indian saw a great White Bird coming out of the east.
+Its wings were stretched wide to the north and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> south. With great
+strength and speed, it swept toward the setting sun.</p>
+
+<p>In fear and wonder the Indian watched this giant White Bird appear and
+disappear. He knew its meaning, and the Indian's heart was sad.</p>
+
+<p>Then the White man came. From the Big Sea Water on the east he came, in
+his great white-winged canoe. With one hand pointing to the Great
+Spirit, and with the other extended to the Red man he came. He asked for
+a small seat. A seat the size of a buffalo skin would be quite large
+enough for him, he said.</p>
+
+<p>In the name of the Great Spirit, the Red Children greeted the White man,
+and called him "brother." They gave him the seat he asked. They gave him
+a large buffalo skin also, and showed him where he could spread it by
+their council fire.</p>
+
+<p>The White man took the buffalo skin. He thanked his Red brother in the
+name<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> of the Great Spirit. Then he began to cut the skin into many, many
+small strips.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img046.jpg" width="500" height="155" alt="Buffalo skin" title="Buffalo skin" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>When the whole buffalo skin had been cut into narrow strips, he tied the
+strips together. They made a long cord that would reach over a long
+trail.</p>
+
+<p>In amazement the Indians watched the White man while he measured off a
+seat as long and as broad as this cord would reach around. The "small
+seat," the size of a buffalo skin, became a tract of land.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the White man asked for another seat. This time his seat took in
+the Indians' lodges and camp fire. He asked the Indians if they would
+move on a few arrow flights. This they did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then the White man wanted another seat. Each time it took a larger skin
+for him to sit upon. This time the skin stretched so far that it covered
+a part of the Indians' hunting and fishing grounds.</p>
+
+<p>Again the Indians moved on. Again the White man followed. Each time his
+seat grew larger, until the Indian had a place but the size of a buffalo
+skin on which to sit.</p>
+
+<p>Thus it was that the White man came. Like a great White Bird that swept
+from the Big Sea Water on the east to the Big Sea Water on the west, the
+White man came; and he drove the Indian from the rising to the setting
+sun.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/img047.jpg" width="450" height="136" alt="tools" title="tools" />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_EAGLE_DEFENDS_AMERICANS" id="WHY_THE_EAGLE_DEFENDS_AMERICANS"></a>WHY THE EAGLE DEFENDS AMERICANS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 282px;">
+<img src="images/img049a.jpg" width="282" height="350" alt="Mother Bear found for them all the honey" title="Mother Bear found for them all the honey" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Many, many moons before the White man came, a little Indian boy was left
+in the woods. It was in the days when animals and men understood each
+other better than they do now.</p>
+
+<p>An old mother bear found the little Indian boy.</p>
+
+<p>She felt very sorry for him. She told the little boy not to cry, for she
+would take him home with her; she had a nice wigwam in the hollow of a
+big tree.</p>
+
+
+<p>Old Mother Bear had two cubs of her own, but she had a place between her
+great paws for a third. She took the little papoose, and she hugged him
+warm and close. She fed him as she did her own little cubs.</p>
+
+
+<p>The boy grew strong. He was very happy with his adopted mother and
+brothers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> They had a warm lodge in the hollow of the great tree. As
+they grew older, Mother Bear found for them all the honey and nuts that
+they could eat.</p>
+
+
+<p>From sunrise to sunset, the little Indian boy played with his cub
+brothers. He did not know that he was different from them. He thought he
+was a little bear, too. All day long, the boy and the little bears
+played and had a good time. They rolled, and tumbled, and wrestled in
+the forest leaves. They chased one another up and down the bear tree.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Sometimes they had a matched game of hug, for every little bear must
+learn to hug. The one who could hug the longest and the tightest won the
+game.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img049b.jpg" width="500" height="93" alt="and nuts" title="and nuts" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Old Mother Bear watched her three dear children at their play. She would
+have been content and happy, but for one thing. She was afraid some harm
+would come to the boy. Never could she quite forget the bear hunters.
+Several times they had scented her tree, but the wind had thrown them
+off the trail.</p>
+
+<p>Once, from her bear-tree window, she had thrown out rabbit hairs as she
+saw them coming. The wind had blown the rabbit hairs toward the hunters.
+As they fell near the hunters, they had suddenly changed into rabbits
+and the hunters had given chase.</p>
+
+<p>At another time, Mother Bear tossed some partridge feathers to the wind
+as the hunters drew near her tree. A flock<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> of partridges went whirring
+into the woods with a great noise, and the hunters ran after them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/img051.jpg" width="450" height="108" alt="partridge feathers" title="partridge feathers" />
+</div>
+
+<p>But on this day, Mother Bear's heart was heavy. She knew that now the
+big bear hunters were coming. No rabbits or partridges could lead these
+hunters from the bear trail, for they had dogs with four eyes.
+(Foxhounds have a yellow spot over each eye which makes them seem
+double-eyed.) These dogs were never known to miss a bear tree. Sooner or
+later they would scent it.</p>
+
+<p>Mother Bear thought she might be able to save herself and her cubs. But
+what would become of the boy? She loved him too well to let the bear
+hunters kill him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 446px;">
+<img src="images/img052.jpg" width="446" height="480" alt="Chief Porcupine" title="Chief Porcupine" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Just then the porcupine, the Chief of the animals, passed by the bear
+tree. Mother Bear saw him. She put her head out the bear-tree window and
+called to him. He came and sat under the bear-tree window, and listened
+to Mother Bear's story of her fears for the boy.</p>
+
+<p>When she had finished, Chief Porcupine said he would call a council of
+the animals, and see if they could not save the boy.</p>
+
+<p>Now the Chief had a big voice. As soon as he raised his voice, even the
+animals away on the longest trails heard. They ran at once and gathered
+under the council tree. There was a loud roar,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> and a great flapping of
+wings, for the birds came, too.</p>
+
+<p>Chief Porcupine told them about the fears of Mother Bear, and of the
+danger to the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the Chief, "which one of you will take the boy, and save him
+from the bear hunters?"</p>
+
+<p>It happened that some animals were present that were jealous of man.
+These animals had held more than one secret council, to plan how they
+could do away with him. They said he was becoming too powerful. He knew
+all they knew,&mdash;and more.</p>
+
+<p>The beaver did not like man, because men could build better houses than
+he.</p>
+
+<p>The fox said that man had stolen his cunning, and could now outwit him.</p>
+
+<p>The wolf and the panther objected to man, because he could conceal
+himself and spring with greater surety than they.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 363px;">
+<img src="images/img054.jpg" width="363" height="600" alt="some animals were present" title="some animals were present" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The raccoon said that man was more daring, and could climb higher than
+he.</p>
+
+<p>The deer complained that man could outrun him.</p>
+
+<p>So when Chief Porcupine asked who would take the boy and care for him,
+each of these animals in turn said that he would gladly do so.</p>
+
+<p>Mother Bear sat by and listened as each offered to care for the boy. She
+did not say anything, but she was thinking hard,&mdash;for a bear. At last
+she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>To the beaver she said, "You cannot take the boy; you will drown him on
+the way to your lodge."</p>
+
+<p>To the fox she said, "You cannot take him; you would teach him to cheat
+and steal, while pretending to be a friend; neither can the wolf or the
+panther have him, for they are counting on having something good to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"You, deer, lost your upper teeth for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> eating human flesh. And, too, you
+have no home, you are a tramp.</p>
+
+<p>"And you, raccoon, I cannot trust, for you would coax him to climb so
+high that he would fall and die.</p>
+
+<p>"No, none of you can have the boy."</p>
+
+<p>Now a great bird that lives in the sky had flown into the council tree,
+while the animals were speaking. But they had not seen him.</p>
+
+<p>When Mother Bear had spoken, this wise old eagle flew down, and said,
+"Give the boy to me, Mother Bear. No bird is so swift and strong as the
+eagle. I will protect him. On my great wings I will bear him far away
+from the bear hunters.</p>
+
+<p>"I will take him to the wigwam of an Indian friend, where a little
+Indian boy is wanted."</p>
+
+<p>Mother Bear looked into the eagle's keen eyes. She saw that he could see
+far.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then she said, "Take him, eagle, I trust him to you. I know you will
+protect the boy."</p>
+
+<p>The eagle spread wide his great wings. Mother Bear placed the boy on his
+back, and away they soared, far from the council woods.</p>
+
+<p>The eagle left the boy, as he had promised, at the door of a wigwam
+where a little Indian boy was wanted.</p>
+
+<p>This was the first young American to be saved by an American eagle.</p>
+
+<p>The boy grew to be a noble chief and a great hunter. No hunter could hit
+a bear trail so soon as he, for he knew just where and how to find the
+bear trees. But never was he known to cut down a bear tree, or to kill a
+bear.</p>
+
+<p>However, many were the wolf, panther, and deerskins that hung in his
+lodge. The hunter's wife sat and made warm coats from the fox and beaver
+skins<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> which the hunter father brought in from the chase. But never was
+the hunter, his wife, or his children seen to wear a bear-skin coat.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img058.jpg" width="500" height="133" alt="Beaver skins" title="Beaver skins" />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_TURKEY_BUZZARD_GOT_HIS_SUIT" id="HOW_THE_TURKEY_BUZZARD_GOT_HIS_SUIT"></a>HOW THE TURKEY BUZZARD GOT HIS SUIT</h2>
+
+
+
+<p>It was a long, long time ago, when the earth was very young. Trees and
+flowers were growing everywhere, but there were no birds. One morning
+the Great Spirit drew back the blanket from the door of his wigwam in
+the sky. He looked upon the earth and smiled, for he saw that his work
+was good.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/img059.jpg" width="350" height="311" alt="Turkey Buzzard" title="Turkey Buzzard" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Today," thought he, "I will make big butterflies, to fly in and out
+among the beautiful trees and flowers of the earth. They shall sing as
+they fly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then the Great Spirit spoke, and the tree tops were full of birds,&mdash;but
+they had no feathers.</p>
+
+<p>All day he watched them fly and listened to their songs. But their naked
+bodies and long legs did not please him. Before the sun had set he had
+made feathered suits, of every size and color, to cover them.</p>
+
+<p>That night, as the birds hid their heads under their wings, the Great
+Spirit spoke to them. He told about the feathered suits he had made for
+them, and where these suits could be found.</p>
+
+<p>A council was called next day by the birds. They chose <i>Gah gah go wah</i>,
+the Turkey Buzzard, to get the suits. He could fly over a long trail and
+not be tired.</p>
+
+<p>The birds told him that if he would go, he might have the first choice
+of the suits of feathers, but he must try on no suit more than once.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Turkey Buzzard promised and set out toward the setting sun. Twice the
+sun set, and three times it rose, before he found the feathered suits.
+There were many of them, and they were very beautiful. He could not make
+up his mind which one he would like best to wear.</p>
+
+<p>Then he remembered that he could try on each suit of feathers once. So
+he began to put them on.</p>
+
+<p>The feathers of the first suit were too long. They trailed on the ground
+as he walked. Neither could he fly well in them. Turkey Buzzard laid
+that suit aside.</p>
+
+<p>The next suit shone like gold. The feathers were a beautiful yellow.
+Turkey Buzzard put it on and strutted up and down the forest.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how handsome I am!" he said. "But I must not keep this, for if I
+did,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> I should shine so like the face of the Great Spirit, that all the
+other birds would see me."</p>
+
+<p>And he slipped off the suit of yellow feathers as quickly as possible.</p>
+
+<p>A third suit was of pure white feathers. Turkey Buzzard thought it
+looked very beautiful. It was a perfect fit.</p>
+
+<p>"But it will get dirty too soon," he said. "I will not choose this."</p>
+
+<p>And this, too, was laid aside.</p>
+
+<p>There were not enough feathers in the fourth suit. Turkey Buzzard
+shivered with cold. It was not warm enough. He would not have it.</p>
+
+<p>There were too many feathers, and too many pieces, in the fifth suit. It
+took too much time to put it on. Turkey Buzzard did not want that.</p>
+
+<p>So he went from one suit to another, trying on and taking off. Always he
+had some new fault to find. Something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> was wrong with each one. Nothing
+quite pleased him. No suit was just right.</p>
+
+<p>At last there was but one suit left. It was not pretty. It was a plain,
+dull color,&mdash;and very short of feathers at the neck and head. Turkey
+Buzzard put it on. He did not like it. It did not fit him well: it was
+cut too low in the neck. Turkey Buzzard thought it was the homeliest
+suit of all. But it was the last suit, so he kept it on.</p>
+
+<p>Then <i>Gah gah go wah</i>, the Turkey Buzzard, gathered up the suits and
+flew back to the bird lodge. He still wore the plain, dull-colored suit.</p>
+
+<p>The birds again called a council. Each was told to select a suit from
+those that <i>Gah gah go wah</i> had brought, and put it on. This they did.</p>
+
+<p>Then the birds in their beautiful feathered suits began to walk and fly
+about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> the Turkey Buzzard, and to make fun of his plain, dull dress.</p>
+
+<p>But <i>Gah gah go wah</i> held his head high. He walked proudly about among
+the birds. He looked with scorn on their beautiful suits. After a time
+he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>He said, "<i>Gah gah go wah</i>, the Turkey Buzzard, does not want your
+suits. He had the pick of them all. He likes his own suit best."</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Adapted from Erminie Smith's <i>Myths of the Iroquois</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/img064.jpg" width="400" height="206" alt="Turkey Buzzard" title="Turkey Buzzard" />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_PARTRIDGE_DRUMS" id="WHY_THE_PARTRIDGE_DRUMS"></a>WHY THE PARTRIDGE DRUMS</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was after the Great Spirit had made all the beautiful birds, that the
+Evil Spirit came along. He saw the beautiful birds and heard their
+beautiful songs. He saw that the earth people liked the birds and liked
+to hear them sing.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/img065.jpg" width="350" height="260" alt="Partridge" title="Partridge" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Now the Evil Spirit did not wish people to be happy, so he said, "I will
+make a bird that will make people afraid. I will make a big bird that
+will not sing, but will make a great noise."</p>
+
+<p>So the Evil Spirit went to work. In a short time he had made a big bird,
+that could not sing, but could drum.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The big bird flew away into the wood. That night a drumming noise was
+heard in the wood. The people were afraid. They could not sleep, because
+of the noise.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, they went into the woods to search for the noise. Deep
+in the forest could still be heard that strange drumming. They followed
+it, until they came to a deep, dark place in the woods. There was a loud
+fluttering and whirring of wings, and a great bird flew out from among
+them, along the ground and over the trees.</p>
+
+<p>The people were afraid. They called to the Great Spirit to help them.</p>
+
+<p>The Great Spirit was near. He heard their cry, and went after the bird,
+for he was very angry.</p>
+
+<p>The Great Spirit said, "I will not have my people frightened by this
+great bird; it shall die."</p>
+
+<p>The big bird gave the Great Spirit a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> long chase. At last the Great
+Spirit came upon it. He seized it, and threw it against a large tree.</p>
+
+<p>As the big bird struck the tree, drops of blood flew in all directions.
+They changed into smaller birds that went whirring into the woods, just
+as the big bird had done. There they began to drum.</p>
+
+<p>Like the big bird, these smaller birds like to startle people. They
+flutter out from under the leaves, and with a whirring noise they fly
+far into the wood. There they perch on an old log, or a rock, and drum
+with their wings.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the earth people say they are drumming for their mates. But
+others still think that the birds drum to make people afraid.</p>
+
+<p>So this is how the Indians say the partridges came to be. This is why
+they drum, and why some of the earth children still love to hunt
+partridges.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_INDIANS_LEARNED_TO_HEAL" id="HOW_THE_INDIANS_LEARNED_TO_HEAL"></a>HOW THE INDIANS LEARNED TO HEAL</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 158px;">
+<img src="images/img068.jpg" width="158" height="280" alt="Medicine Rattle" title="Medicine Rattle" />
+<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Medicine Rattle</span></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>A long, long time ago, some Indians were running along a trail that led
+to an Indian settlement. As they ran, a rabbit jumped from the bushes
+and sat before them.</p>
+
+
+<p>The Indians stopped, for the rabbit still sat up before them and did not
+move from the trail. They shot their arrows at him, but the arrows came
+back unstained with blood.</p>
+
+<p>A second time they drew their arrows. Now no rabbit was to be seen.
+Instead, an old man stood on the trail. He seemed to be weak and sick.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>The old man asked them for food and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> a place to rest. They would not
+listen but went on to the settlement.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the old man followed them, down the trail to the wigwam village.
+In front of each wigwam, he saw a skin placed on a pole. This he knew
+was the sign of the clan to which the dwellers in that wigwam belonged.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img069.jpg" width="500" height="145" alt="Animals" title="Animals" />
+</div>
+
+<p>First he stopped at a wigwam where a wolf skin hung. He asked to enter,
+but they would not let him. They said, "We want no sick men here."</p>
+
+<p>On he went toward another wigwam. Here a turtle's shell was hanging. But
+this family would not let him in.</p>
+
+<p>He tried a wigwam where he saw a beaver skin. He was told to move on.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img070.jpg" width="500" height="139" alt="Birds and animals" title="Birds and animals" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The Indians who lived in a wigwam<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> where a deer skin was seen, were just
+as unkind. Nor was he permitted to enter wigwams where hung hawk, snipe,
+and heron skins.</p>
+
+<p>At last he came to a wigwam where a bear skin hung.</p>
+
+<p>"I will ask once more for a place to rest," he thought.</p>
+
+<p>And here a kind old woman lived. She brought food for him to eat, and
+spread soft skins for him to lie upon.</p>
+
+<p>The old man thanked her. He said that he was very sick. He told the
+woman what plants to gather in the wood, to make him well again.</p>
+
+<p>This she did, and soon he was healed.</p>
+
+<p>A few days later the old man was again taken sick. Again he told the
+woman what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> roots and leaves to gather. She did as she was told, and
+soon he was well.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 229px;">
+<img src="images/img071.jpg" width="229" height="250" alt="Herb basket" title="Herb basket" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Many times the old man fell sick. Each time he had a different sickness.
+Each time he told the woman what plants and herbs to find to cure him.
+Each time she remembered what she had been told.</p>
+
+<p>Soon this woman of the Bear clan knew more about healing than all the
+other people.</p>
+
+<p>One day, the old man told her that the Great Spirit had sent him to
+earth, to teach the Indian people the secrets of healing.</p>
+
+<p>"I came, sick and hungry, to many a wigwam door. No blanket was drawn
+aside for me to pass in. You alone lifted the blanket from your wigwam
+door and bade me enter.</p>
+
+<p>"You are of the Bear clan, therefore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> all other clans shall come to the
+Bear clan for help in sickness.</p>
+
+<p>"You shall teach all the clans what plants, and roots, and leaves to
+gather, that the sick may be healed.</p>
+
+<p>"And the Bear shall be the greatest and strongest of the clans."</p>
+
+<p>The Indian woman lifted her face to the Great Spirit to thank him for
+this great gift and knowledge of healing. When she turned again to the
+man, he had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>No one was there, but a rabbit was running swiftly down the trail.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/img072.jpg" width="450" height="422" alt="Medicine Mask" title="Medicine Mask" />
+<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Medicine Mask</span></span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;">
+<img src="images/img073.jpg" width="360" height="600" alt="Why dogs chase foxes" title="Why dogs chase foxes" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="WHY_DOGS_CHASE_FOXES" id="WHY_DOGS_CHASE_FOXES"></a>WHY DOGS CHASE FOXES</h2>
+
+
+<p>A fox was running through the wood near a river. He had a fish in his
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>The fish had been stolen from an Indian who lived down the stream. The
+fox had been passing near the Indian's wigwam. He saw the fish hanging
+by the fire. It was cleaned and ready to cook.</p>
+
+<p>"What a tasty breakfast!" thought the fox. "I think I will watch the man
+eat."</p>
+
+<p>Soon the Indian went into the wigwam. The fox slipped up to the fire. He
+seized the fish, and ran away with it.</p>
+
+<p>When the Indian came back, he had no breakfast. The fish was gone. No
+fox was to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>The fox ran along, feeling much pleased with himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What a cunning fox I am," he chuckled. "I will play another foxy trick.
+This time it shall be on the bear I see coming."</p>
+
+<p>He ran up a tree that had been bent half way to earth by the West Wind.
+There he began to eat his fish. He smacked his lips so loudly that the
+bear heard him.</p>
+
+<p>The bear stopped under the tree, and asked, "What are you eating that
+tastes so good?"</p>
+
+<p>For answer the fox threw down a bit of the fish. The bear smacked his
+lips and cried, "More! More!"</p>
+
+<p>"Go to the river, swim out to the big log, and catch your own fish,"
+called the fox. "It's very easy! Just drop your tail into the water.
+Hold it there till a fish comes along and bites, then pull it up. That
+is the way I catch my fish. You can catch all the fish you want with
+your own tail."</p>
+
+<p>The bear hurried on to the river. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> swam to the log and dropped his
+tail into the water, as the fox had advised.</p>
+
+<p>All day he sat and fished with his tail,&mdash;for bears then had very long
+tails.</p>
+
+<p>The sun set, but no fish had pulled his tail. All night the bear sat on
+the log and fished. Cold North Wind blew his breath over the water. The
+river grew still and white.</p>
+
+<p>Towards morning, the bear felt that his tail was getting very heavy. Now
+at last he was sure he had a fish. He tried to pull it up. But alas! his
+tail was frozen fast in the ice.</p>
+
+<p>Then the fox came along. He laughed long and loudly at the bear, and
+asked if the fishing was good.</p>
+
+<p>Some dogs heard the fox, and came tearing through the thick underbrush.
+They saw the fox and started after him.</p>
+
+<p>The fox slyly led them on to the frozen river toward the bear. The bear
+saw them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> coming, and called to the fox to go around some other way. The
+fox made believe he did not hear, and came straight on to the bear to
+ask him what he had said.</p>
+
+<p>The dogs leaped upon the bear. The bear struggled. He gave one great
+pull, and freed himself from the ice. He struck at the dogs so fiercely
+with his great paws, that they soon left him, and went on after the fox.</p>
+
+<p>Dogs have been running after foxes ever since.</p>
+
+<p>When the bear got his breath, he stood up and looked around at his tail.
+He found he had only a small piece left. Most of his tail had been left
+in the ice.</p>
+
+<p>This is why bears have short tails, and why dogs still love to chase the
+fox.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_HERMIT_THRUSH_IS_SO_SHY" id="WHY_HERMIT_THRUSH_IS_SO_SHY"></a>WHY HERMIT THRUSH IS SO SHY</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img078.jpg" width="550" height="257" alt="Wise old owl" title="Wise old owl" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Some moons after the council when the birds chose their feathered suits,
+a second council was called. The purpose of this council was to see
+which bird could fly to heaven, and bring a song to earth.</p>
+
+<p>When all the birds had arrived and were perched upon the council tree,
+the wise old owl spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Friends and brothers, listen," said the owl. "Many of you have strong
+wings,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> but your voices are not beautiful. High, high up in the sky, a
+long trail beyond the clouds, is the Happy Hunting Ground.</p>
+
+<p>"There live all our brothers of the wood, whom the Great Spirit has
+called. They sing songs more beautiful than any heard on earth.</p>
+
+<p>"The bird that can fly beyond the clouds will hear that singing. He
+shall bring a song to earth. Who will fly the Great Sky Trail, and bring
+a song to earth? Who-whoo! Who-whoo! Who-whoo!"</p>
+
+<p>At this, all the birds that were swift of wing flew high in the air.
+They circled round and round to show their skill. Then they disappeared
+in the clouds.</p>
+
+<p>But one by one they dropped to earth; for when they had reached the
+Great Sky Trail beyond the clouds, they were too tired to take it.</p>
+
+<p>At last the eagle arose and stretched his great wings.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Listen," he said, "for the Chief of Birds speaks. No other bird is so
+swift and so strong as the eagle. He has circled the earth. He has flown
+to the rim of the world. The eagle will fly the Great Sky Trail and
+bring the song to earth."</p>
+
+<p>A little brown thrush sat near the eagle.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," he thought, "how I would like to bring that song to earth!"</p>
+
+<p>But he was so small, and his wings were so tired!</p>
+
+<p>Then an idea popped into the little brown head of the thrush. He hopped
+softly to the back of the eagle, and hid in the thick feathers near the
+neck. So small and light was the thrush, that the eagle did not feel his
+weight. He did not know that the little brown thrush was on his
+back,&mdash;and the other birds did not tell him.</p>
+
+<p>The eagle spread his great wings. Up, and up, and up, they soared. The
+council<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> wood became a little speck and then was seen no more. Over, and
+under, and through the clouds, on, and on, and on, they sailed, along
+the Great Sky Trail.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 175px;">
+<img src="images/img081.jpg" width="175" height="450" alt="eagle" title="eagle" />
+</div>
+
+<p>At last the eagle's strength began to fail. He could go no further. The
+great wings of the chief of birds could beat the air no longer. They
+fell at his side.</p>
+
+<p>The little brown thrush felt the eagle quiver and begin to drop toward
+the earth.</p>
+
+<p>Then away flew the little brown thrush. The air was so light it seemed
+easy to fly. On and on he went, for he was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> tired. He had had a ride
+almost to heaven.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," he thought, "I will go on and will get the song."</p>
+
+<p>For some time, the little brown thrush flew along the Great Sky Trail.
+All at once the air seemed full of song. He knew he was nearing the
+Happy Hunting Ground.</p>
+
+<p>He listened. One song seemed more beautiful to him than the rest. Again
+and again he listened. He caught the notes. He sang them many times,
+until he was sure that he could carry the song to earth.</p>
+
+<p>Then down, and down, and down, he floated, through clouds and storms and
+sunshine, back to Mother Earth.</p>
+
+<p>Very happy, he flew toward the council wood. He was so full of his
+beautiful song and the wonderful Sky Trail, he thought he must pour out
+his song at once.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But when he reached the council wood, he dared not open his mouth! He
+remembered that he had stolen his ride part way to heaven,&mdash;and he knew
+the other birds knew it.</p>
+
+<p>But that song! he must sing it! He thought his throat would burst, if he
+did not sing!</p>
+
+<p>So the little brown thrush flew off by himself, into a deep, dark part
+of the wood. There, hidden by the brush and the bushes, he poured forth
+the song he had heard on the Great Sky Trail.</p>
+
+<p>Men hearing it to-day, say, "Listen, a hermit thrush! What a beautiful
+song! But he is such a shy bird, one seldom can catch a glimpse of him."</p>
+
+<p>They do not know why he keeps so close under cover.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_GOOD_AND_EVIL_CAME_TO_BE" id="HOW_GOOD_AND_EVIL_CAME_TO_BE"></a>HOW GOOD AND EVIL CAME TO BE</h2>
+
+
+<p>Every boy has wondered how there came to be two of him.</p>
+
+<p>Every girl has puzzled over how she happened to be twins. Sometimes she
+is the good girl,&mdash;sometimes a naughty one.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians say this is how it happened.</p>
+
+<p>The world was very young. There was no earth, only a cloud-like sea.</p>
+
+<p>The sea was filled with water animals, and water birds flew over it. All
+was dark. Light had not yet come.</p>
+
+<p>Then the cloud-sea began to call for light. The Great Spirit heard, and
+said, "It shall be so. I will make a new place for man to live in."</p>
+
+<p>The Great Spirit called the beautiful Sky Mother to Him. Her face was
+like the sun, she was so light of heart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Great Spirit told the Sky Mother to look down. She, too, heard the
+cloud-sea calling, and she said, "I will go."</p>
+
+<p>As she began to descend, the animals saw her coming. "See the light,"
+they cried. "Where will it rest?"</p>
+
+<p>One of the water animals said, "I will go to the bottom of the sea and
+get something for it to rest on."</p>
+
+<p>He went down, but he never came back.</p>
+
+<p>Other animals followed him. But they, too, did not come back.</p>
+
+<p>Then the muskrat said, "I will go. I will be the earth bringer."</p>
+
+<p>He returned, with some mud in his mouth and claws.</p>
+
+<p>"It will grow fast," he cried, in a weak voice. "Who will carry it?"</p>
+
+<p>The turtle offered his back. As the muskrat placed the mud on the
+turtle's shell he died. But the beaver came and slapped the mud down
+with his tail.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The mud on the turtle's back grew very fast. Soon it was a small island.
+The turtle became the earth bearer. He has continued to hold up the
+earth ever since.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when the sea rises in great waves, or the earth shakes, the Indians
+say, "The turtle is stretching. He is wiggling his back!"</p>
+
+<p>Now, since there was a place for the light to rest on, the birds flew up
+to meet it. They found that the light was the beautiful Sky Mother.</p>
+
+<p>Then the birds spread wide their great wings, and bore the Sky Mother
+through the air to the cloud-sea. They placed her on the island on the
+turtle's back. There the Sky Mother had rested some time, when she felt
+something stirring beneath her heart. She heard voices. One was soft and
+kind and full of love, the other was harsh and quarrelsome.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Soon the Sky Mother looked into the faces of the first-born of earth,
+for she had borne the twin brothers, the spirits of Good and Evil. As
+she looked into the face of the Good Mind, she said, "You shall be
+called the Light One."</p>
+
+<p>Then she looked into the face of his brother, and said, "You shall be
+named the Dark One."</p>
+
+<p>The island became a beautiful land.</p>
+
+<p>The twin brother Light One grew up happy, loving, peaceful, and kind. He
+wanted to make the new land the most beautiful place in which to live.
+The twin brother Dark One grew up sullen, quarrelsome, hateful, and
+unkind. He tried to make the land the worst place in which to live.</p>
+
+<p>From his mother's beautiful face the Light One made the sun. He set it
+in the eastern sky, that it might shine forever. Then the Dark One put
+darkness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> in the west to drive the sun from the sky.</p>
+
+<p>The Light One gave his mother's body to the earth, the Great Mother from
+which springs all life. He made great mountains, and covered them with
+forests from which beautiful rivers ran. The Dark One threw down the
+mountains, gnarled the forests, and bent the rivers which his brother
+had made.</p>
+
+<p>Every beautiful thing which the good brother Light One made, the bad
+brother Dark One tried to destroy and ruin.</p>
+
+<p>And because the first-born of earth were the twin spirits, the Good Mind
+and the Evil Mind, there has been a good and bad spirit born into every
+boy and girl who has come into the world since.</p>
+
+<p>So the Indians say!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_A_BOY_WAS_CURED_OF_BOASTING" id="HOW_A_BOY_WAS_CURED_OF_BOASTING"></a>HOW A BOY WAS CURED OF BOASTING</h2>
+
+
+<p>There was once an Indian boy, who thought he knew more and could do more
+than anyone else. He was so proud of himself that he walked around like
+a great chief, who wears a war shirt with many scalp locks on it.</p>
+
+<p>The other Indian boys and girls called him Spread Feather, because he
+strutted about like a big turkey or a peacock.</p>
+
+<p>One day, Spread Feather was playing ball with the other boys. Not once
+had he failed to drive or catch the ball with his crosse stick. Twice he
+had thrown the ball with such force that some one had been hurt.</p>
+
+<p>Spread Feather grew more and more pleased with himself, as he played. He
+began to use tricks and to talk very large.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 364px;">
+<img src="images/img090.jpg" width="364" height="600" alt="Spread Feather grew more and more pleased with himself" title="Spread Feather grew more and more pleased with himself" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 116px;">
+<img src="images/img091.jpg" width="116" height="450" alt="raquets" title="raquets" />
+
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"No one can play ball as I," he said. "I can catch the swiftest ball
+that can be thrown. I can throw the ball to the sky. I can run faster
+than the deer."</p>
+
+<p>Spread Feather boasted so loudly that a rabbit heard him. The rabbit
+came out of the bushes and sat up on his hind legs. He watched Spread
+Feather play, and listened to his boasting.</p>
+
+<p>Soon a strange boy was standing where the rabbit had sat.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger said to Spread Feather, "I would like to play ball with
+you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Come on, then!" taunted the boastful boy. "Spread Feather will show the
+strange ball player how to catch a ball."</p>
+
+<p>They began to play.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger could run like a deer. His balls were so swift and so
+curved that Spread Feather could not see them. He could not catch one.
+They seemed to come from the sky.</p>
+
+<p>At last one ball hit Spread Feather on the mouth. He fell to the ground.
+His face was red with anger, and his lips were red with blood.</p>
+
+<p>He sprang to his feet and shouted to the stranger, "Though I do not like
+the taste of your ball, yet I can throw you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, then," said the stranger. "We will have a game of 'Catch as
+catch can.'" This is the Indian name for a game of wrestling.</p>
+
+<p>Spread Feather set his feet very hard on the ground.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My legs are as strong as the legs of a bear," he boasted.</p>
+
+<p>They began to wrestle. Soon Spread Feather's arms fell at his sides. He
+panted for air. He had no breath and no strength.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger picked Spread Feather up and tossed him over his head like
+a ball. The boy fell without a word.</p>
+
+<p>When Spread Feather opened his eyes, a rabbit sprang into the bushes.</p>
+
+<p>All night, Spread Feather lay and thought, and thought. He was too weak
+and too sore to go back to his wigwam. Nor was he eager to meet the
+other boys.</p>
+
+<p>At sunrise a rabbit hopped near. The rabbit slyly suggested that he
+might like to play another game of ball.</p>
+
+<p>The boy sat up and said to the rabbit, "Spread Feather is no more. He no
+longer struts like a turkey. He has nothing to say. He will win a new
+name. It will not be Spread Feather."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_CUCKOO_IS_SO_LAZY" id="WHY_THE_CUCKOO_IS_SO_LAZY"></a>WHY THE CUCKOO IS SO LAZY</h2>
+
+
+<p>The land was lean and hungry. The Old Man of the North Lodge had
+breathed upon the valley. His breath had frozen the corn, and there was
+no bread for the people.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian hunters took to the chase. They followed every track of deer
+or rabbit. If their arrows brought them meat, they threw it over their
+shoulders and ran to the village, that the hungry women and children
+might eat.</p>
+
+<p>But one Indian remained in his wigwam. He sat by the fire with his wife
+and child, and waited for the hunters to bring game.</p>
+
+<p>This man refused to go on the hunt. He was lazy. All day he sat by the
+fire and smoked his pipe. Once in a while, he would stir the water in
+the kettle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> which he kept boiling for the meat that he hoped the hunters
+might bring. Whenever the child, his little son, begged him for food, he
+would say, "It isn't done yet."</p>
+
+<p>At last the little Indian boy grew so sick and faint for want of food
+that he cried aloud.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img095.jpg" width="550" height="326" alt="pipes" title="pipes" />
+
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The lazy Indian father was angry. He seized the pudding stick, and
+struck the child to the ground. Instantly a bird flew up and perched on
+the pole over the fire, from which the kettle hung.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Now it's done!" said the bird solemnly, for it did not seem to have a
+light heart like other birds.</p>
+
+<p>Now, strange as it may seem this father was no longer cruel and lazy.
+His lazy spirit seemed to have gone. He wanted to go at once on the
+chase, and hunt food for his wife and little boy.</p>
+
+<p>"To-night you shall have deer meat to eat," he said, as he spread a soft
+skin by the fire, for the boy to lie on. Then he turned to place the
+child on the skin,&mdash;but no boy was there. He had no son. Only that
+strange bird perched, joyless and alone, over the fire, on the pole from
+which the kettle hung.</p>
+
+<p>"Now it's done!" the bird cried again, and with that it flew out of the
+wigwam.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>That spring the Indians discovered a new bird in the woods. The bird was
+too lazy to build a real nest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/img097.jpg" width="350" height="190" alt="a new bird in the woods" title="a new bird in the woods" />
+</div>
+
+<p>This bird did not weave together twigs and moss, leaves and ferns, bits
+of hair and thistledown, to make a cozy, warm, safe nest for its eggs
+and young, as did the other birds. This bird would lay its eggs
+anywhere. Wherever a few sticks lay crosswise in a track, or in a little
+hollow of the ground, or where some twigs or dried ferns were caught
+loosely in a bush, there this lazy bird would lay its eggs and rear its
+young.</p>
+
+<p>It was too lazy to build a real nest, that was safe and warm for its
+little ones.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p>The Indians called the bird "the cuckoo." But only one Indian knew how
+the cuckoo came to be, and why it is too lazy to build a real nest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_COON_OUTWITTED_THE_FOX" id="HOW_THE_COON_OUTWITTED_THE_FOX"></a>HOW THE COON OUTWITTED THE FOX</h2>
+
+
+<p>A wise old raccoon sat up in a tree near the river where the bear lost
+his tail. The coon saw the fox play his foxy trick on the bear, and he
+did not like it.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/img099.jpg" width="350" height="281" alt="The fox stopped under the tree" title="The fox stopped under the tree" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"The fox is getting a big head," said the coon. "This must not be. His
+head must be made smaller. Some of the foxiness must be taken out of it.
+He is getting too foxy. He thinks he has the cunning of all the animals,
+and that no one can outwit him. Some one must play a 'fox' trick on
+him."</p>
+
+<p>Not many days later, the coon saw the fox coming down the trail. The
+coon was eating some juicy yellow apples that he had found on a tree not
+far away. As soon as he saw the fox, he ran up a tree,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> and began to
+smack his lips as the fox had done to tempt the bear.</p>
+
+<p>The fox stopped under the tree, just as the bear had stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"What tastes so good?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>For answer the coon threw down an apple to the fox, just as the fox had
+thrown the piece of fish down to the bear.</p>
+
+<p>The fox took the apple and ate it.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine! Fine!" said the fox, when he had finished the last mouthful.
+"Where did you get it?"</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p>The coon then told the fox how to find the apple tree. He must follow
+the trail along the river, down to the pine bluff. Then he must climb
+the bluff and run toward the setting sun, until he came to an open
+field. In the center of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> that field stood a great apple tree. It was
+filled with juicy yellow apples.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 267px;">
+<img src="images/img100.jpg" width="267" height="300" alt="The coon then told the fox" title="The coon then told the fox" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"But you can climb the tree and pick your own apples. How can I get them
+off the tree?" whined the fox.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's easy," said the coon. "Just back off two bow shots from the
+tree, then lower your head,&mdash;so. Run hard and butt the tree with your
+head. You have such a big head, it will shake the tree so hard that all
+the apples will fall at once. Do as I tell you, and you will have all
+the apples you want for a long time."</p>
+
+<p>The fox thanked the coon and started at once.</p>
+
+<p>He found the apple tree, just as the coon had said.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What a fine open place to run in," thought the fox. "I will get such a
+fine start that when I hit the tree it will shake the world."</p>
+
+<p>Already he began, in his mind, to see the apples falling, like pine
+needles, and to feel the earth shake under his feet.</p>
+
+<p>The fox did as the coon had told him. One arrow flight he backed off,
+then another. Then he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and ran swiftly
+over the thick grass. He struck the tree as hard as ever he could, with
+his big head.</p>
+
+<p>Not an apple fell, but a dazed, foolish-looking fox fell to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning as the sun rose, a shame-faced fox was seen running toward
+the woods beyond the pine bluff. He carried his head low, and he seemed
+to be playing no foxy tricks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_GOLDFINCHES_LOOK_LIKE_THE_SUN" id="WHY_THE_GOLDFINCHES_LOOK_LIKE_THE_SUN"></a>WHY THE GOLDFINCHES LOOK LIKE THE SUN</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was some moons after the coon outwitted the fox, before they again
+met. The coon was hurrying by, when the fox saw him.</p>
+
+<p>Now the fox had not forgotten the trick the coon had played on him. His
+head was still sore from that great thump against the apple tree. So the
+fox started after the coon. He was gaining, and would have caught him,
+had they not come to a tall pine tree.</p>
+
+<p>The coon ran to the very tiptop of the pine tree. There he was safe, for
+the fox could not climb.</p>
+
+<p>The fox lay down on the soft pine needles and waited for the coon to
+come down. The coon stayed up in the pine tree so long that the fox grew
+tired and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> sleepy. He closed his eyes and thought he would take a short
+nap.</p>
+
+<p>The coon watched, until he saw that the fox was sound asleep. Then he
+took in his mouth some of the pitch from the pine tree. He ran down the
+tree and rubbed the pitch over the eyes of the sleeping fox.</p>
+
+<p>The fox awoke. He sprang up and tried to seize the coon, but, alas! he
+could not see what he was doing. The lids of his eyes were held fast
+with the pine gum. He could not open them.</p>
+
+<p>The coon laughed at the fox's plight, then ran and left him.</p>
+
+<p>The fox lay for some time under the tree. The pine gum, as it dried,
+held the lids of his eyes closer and closer shut. He thought he should
+never again see the sun.</p>
+
+<p>Some birds were singing near by. He called them, and told them of his
+plight. He asked if they would be so kind as to pick open his eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The birds flew off and told the other birds. Soon many of the little
+dark songsters flew back to where the fox lay. Then peck, peck, peck,
+went the little bills on the eyelids of the fox. Bit by bit they
+carefully pecked away the pine gum. If one grew tired, another bird
+would take its place.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img104.jpg" width="550" height="185" alt="The birds flew off" title="The birds flew off" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>At last the fox saw a streak of light. Soon the lid of one eye flew
+open, then the other. The sun was shining, and the world looked very
+beautiful to the fox, as he opened his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He was very grateful to the little birds for bringing him light. He told
+them to ask what they would, and he would give it to them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The little birds said, "We do not like the plain, dark suits which the
+Turkey Buzzard brought us. Make us look like the sun we have brought to
+you."</p>
+
+<p>The fox looked about him. Beautiful yellow flowers were growing near. He
+pressed some of the sun color from them, and with the tip of his tail as
+a brush, he began to paint the dark little birds like the sun.</p>
+
+<p>The birds fluttered so with joy, he thought he would paint the bodies
+first. Before he could brush the wings and tails with the sun paint,
+each little bird had darted away, like a streak of sunshine. So happy
+and light of heart were the birds, that they could not wait for the fox
+to finish the painting.</p>
+
+<p>This is why goldfinches are yellow like the sun. It is why they have
+black wings and tails, why they flutter so with joy, and why they never
+finish their song.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHAT_THE_ASH_AND_THE_MAPLE_LEARNED" id="WHAT_THE_ASH_AND_THE_MAPLE_LEARNED"></a>WHAT THE ASH AND THE MAPLE LEARNED</h2>
+
+
+<p>Long ago, birds, trees, animals, and men knew each the language of the
+other, and all could talk together.</p>
+
+<p>In those days, the trees of the forest grew very large and strong. At
+last they came to know their strength too well. They became selfish, and
+proud, and quarrelsome. Each tree boasted that he was the greatest and
+strongest. Each one struggled to gain for himself the most earth, the
+best air, the brightest sun. No tree had a thought for the other.</p>
+
+<p>One day the trunk of a great Maple tried to crowd out an Ash. The Ash,
+of course, thought he had as much right to stand there as the Maple, and
+he said he would not stir a limb.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Get out of my way," cried the Maple. "I am greater than you, and of
+more use to man; for I furnish the sweet water for him to drink."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, I will not!" said the Ash. "I am greater than you, and of more
+use to man than you; for I furnish the tough wood from which he makes
+his bow."</p>
+
+<p>At this the trees fell to wrestling. Back and forth, in and out they
+swayed, each trying to throw the other. They forgot that they were
+brothers in the wood.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 280px;">
+<img src="images/img108.jpg" width="280" height="134" alt="basket" title="basket" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Then the South Wind came along. He heard the loud voices and stopped to
+find out what the quarrel was about.</p>
+
+<p>"I am greater than you, for I furnish the sweet water for man to drink,"
+came the angry voice of the Maple, as he threw his huge trunk against
+the Ash.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you are not," retorted the Ash, and he sent the Maple back with a
+great push of his strong elbow. "I am greater than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> you, for I furnish
+the tough wood from which he makes his bow."</p>
+
+
+
+<p>For a time, the South Wind watched them writhe and twist and try to
+throw each other to the ground. Then he said, softly, "You, O Maple, do
+not cause the sweet water to flow for man; nor do you, O Ash, make your
+wood to grow pliant and tough for his bow."</p>
+
+<p>"Who does, then?" they asked defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen," said the South Wind, "and you shall hear."</p>
+
+<p>Then the Maple and Ash forgot their quarrel. They bent their heads so
+low and close to listen, that an arm of the Maple slipped through an arm
+of the Ash.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 364px;">
+<img src="images/img109.jpg" width="364" height="600" alt="Maple and Ash forgot their quarrel" title="Maple and Ash forgot their quarrel" />
+</div>
+
+<p>And as they stood thus listening, each with an arm locked in an arm of
+the other, the South Wind gently swayed them to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> and fro. Then a voice
+was heard, singing, "<i>San noh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!</i>" which
+means, "The Mother of all things."</p>
+
+<p>Thus it was that the Ash and the Maple learned that it was Mother Earth
+who gave them their life, and power, and strength, and that they were
+brothers, because they had one Mother.</p>
+
+<p>The Ash and the Maple whispered the secret to the birds. The birds came
+and listened to the voice, and went and told the animals. The animals
+came and listened, and went and told men. And thus all the earth
+children learned that there is one Great Mother of every living thing,
+and that all are brothers.</p>
+
+<p>And now, whenever two trees lock arms lovingly, and the South Wind sways
+them gently to and fro, that same voice may be heard, singing, "<i>San
+noh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_WOMAN_OVERCAME_THE_BEAR" id="HOW_THE_WOMAN_OVERCAME_THE_BEAR"></a>HOW THE WOMAN OVERCAME THE BEAR</h2>
+
+
+<p>An Indian woman built a wigwam in the deep wood. She was a brave woman.
+She had no fear.</p>
+
+<p>One night, she heard something coming along the trail. Thump, thump,
+thump, it came, to the very door of her wigwam.</p>
+
+<p>There was a rap.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in," said the woman, but no one entered.</p>
+
+<p>Again there came a rap.</p>
+
+<p>Again the woman called, "Come in." Again the latch was not lifted.</p>
+
+<p>A third time the rap came. A third time the woman called, "Come in," but
+no one entered.</p>
+
+<p>Then the strange thump, thump, thump, was heard going down the trail.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The next night, the same thing occurred. Soon after dark, the woman
+heard the thump, thump, thump, coming along the trail. Up to the very
+door of the wigwam it came.</p>
+
+<p>Three times, a rap, rap, rap, was heard as before. Three times the woman
+answered, "Come in," but no one entered.</p>
+
+<p>Then the same strange thump, thump, thump, was heard going down the
+trail again.</p>
+
+<p>The third night, the woman thought she would make sure who was calling.
+She stood for a long time, with her hand on the latch.</p>
+
+<p>At last she heard the visitor coming. Thump, thump, thump, it came along
+the trail. There were three raps.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in," called the woman, but the latch did not move in her hand. She
+waited. Again came the raps.</p>
+
+<p>This time she threw wide open the door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> and there stood a great black
+bear. He showed his sharp teeth and growled, "Are you at home?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman looked him straight in the eye and replied, "I am at home."</p>
+
+<p>At once the bear turned on his heel and went down the trail, as fast as
+he could go.</p>
+
+<p>Never again did the woman hear that strange thump, thump, thump; and
+never again did the bear call to see if she were at home.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img113.jpg" width="550" height="328" alt="The bear" title="The bear" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_WOODPECKER_BORES_FOR_ITS_FOOD" id="WHY_THE_WOODPECKER_BORES_FOR_ITS_FOOD"></a>WHY THE WOODPECKER BORES FOR ITS FOOD</h2>
+
+
+<p>Once upon a time, the Great Spirit left the Happy Hunting Ground and
+came to earth. He took the form of a poor, hungry man. He went from
+wigwam to wigwam, asking for food.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes he found the Indians sitting around the fire, telling stories
+and talking of the Great Spirit. Then the man would pass by unseen.</p>
+
+<p>One day, he came to a wigwam in which a woman was baking cakes.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very hungry," the man said. "Will you please give me a cake?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman looked at the man, and then at the cake. She saw that it was
+too large to give away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She said, "I will not give you this cake, but I will bake you one, if
+you will wait."</p>
+
+<p>The hungry man said, "I will wait."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 280px;">
+<img src="images/img115.jpg" width="280" height="156" alt="baking cakes" title="baking cakes" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Then the woman took a small piece of dough and made it into a cake and
+baked it. But when she took this cake from the coals, it was larger than
+the first.</p>
+
+<p>Again the woman looked at her cake. Again she saw it was too large to
+give away. Again she said, "I will not give you this one, but I will
+bake you one, if you will wait."</p>
+
+<p>Again the man said, "I will wait."</p>
+
+<p>This time the woman took a very, very, tiny bit of dough, and made it
+into a cake.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, this will be small enough to give away," she thought, yet when
+baked it was larger than both the others.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The woman stood and looked at the three cakes. Each was too large to
+give away.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not give you any of the cakes," she said to the man. "Go to the
+woods, and find your food in the bark of trees."</p>
+
+<p>Then the man stood up and threw off his ragged blanket and worn
+moccasins. His face shone like the sun, and he was very beautiful. The
+woman shrank into the shadow of the wigwam. She could not look upon his
+face, for the light.</p>
+
+<p>"I am the Great Spirit," said he, "and you are a selfish woman. Women
+should be kind, and generous, and unselfish. You shall no longer be a
+woman and live in a warm wigwam, with plenty of cakes to bake. <i>You</i>
+shall go to the forest and hunt <i>your</i> food in the bark of trees. Summer
+and winter, you shall eat worms of the same size as the cake you would
+have made for me."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 226px;">
+<img src="images/img117.jpg" width="226" height="300" alt="Woodpecker" title="Woodpecker" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The woman began to grow smaller and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> smaller. Feathers grew upon her
+body, and wings sprang from it. The Great Spirit touched her head, and
+it became red.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>"Always shall you wear this red hood," he said, "as a mark of your
+shame. Always shall you hide from man. Always shall you hunt for little
+worms, the size of the cake you made for me."</p>
+
+<p>At this a sharp cry was heard, and a bird flew into the fireplace of the
+wigwam, and up the chimney. As it passed out of the chimney, the soot
+left those long streaks of black which we see now on the woodpecker's
+back.</p>
+
+<p>Ever since then, this woodpecker has had a red head, and has been hiding
+from man on the farther side of the tree trunk, and boring in the bark
+for <i>little</i> worms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_ICE_ROOF_FELL" id="WHY_THE_ICE_ROOF_FELL"></a>WHY THE ICE ROOF FELL</h2>
+
+
+<p>A great many winters ago, there lived at the foot of a certain lake a
+tribe of wicked Indians. These Indians were so fierce, and warlike, and
+wasteful, they went about destroying everything.</p>
+
+<p>They laid low a tract of beautiful forest trees, for no good purpose.
+They tore up shrubs and plants that gave them food and medicine. They
+shot their arrows into every bird or animal they saw, just for sport.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img118.jpg" width="500" height="220" alt="tool" title="tool" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The great trees&mdash;their silent brothers of the wood&mdash;trembled and sighed
+when they heard these Indians coming. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> squirrels darted into hollow
+trees, and birds flew in alarm at their footsteps. The deer and rabbit
+ran from the trail.</p>
+
+<p>At last the Great Spirit became very angry with this tribe. Always he
+had taught the Indians never to kill an animal, unless for food and
+protection; never to fell a tree, unless for fuel or shelter; never to
+dig up shrubs or plants, unless for some good use.</p>
+
+<p>"All life," the Great Spirit had said, "is sacred and beautiful. It must
+not be wasted."</p>
+
+<p>And never before had he known the Indians to waste the beautiful living
+things about them. The Great Spirit was very sad.</p>
+
+<p>The ice formed very thick on the lake that winter.</p>
+
+<p>One night, there came a great storm of wind and rain. The ice broke
+loose from the shores, and the wind blew it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> down the lake. At the foot
+of the lake, a mass of ice was piled high over the shore, where lived
+these wasteful Indians.</p>
+
+<p>Like a giant roof, the ice spread over the little Indian village lying
+there asleep, but the Indians did not know. They slept on, unaware of
+their danger, for a deep, heavy sleep had come upon them.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the sun rose, the ice roof gave way and fell upon the sleeping
+Indians, crushing them in their wigwams.</p>
+
+<p>The waste they had brought upon their brothers of the wood had brought
+punishment upon them. The Great Spirit had destroyed these wicked
+Indians, that the good Indians might keep his world beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>Ever after, as long as the Indians occupied the country, before the
+White man came, no trees were felled, and no animals or birds were
+killed, unless for some wise and useful purpose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_CHIPMUNK_HAS_BLACK_STRIPES" id="WHY_THE_CHIPMUNK_HAS_BLACK_STRIPES"></a>WHY THE CHIPMUNK HAS BLACK STRIPES</h2>
+
+
+<p>At one time, the animals had tribes and chiefs, like men. It was when
+the porcupine was chief, that a council was called.</p>
+
+<p>A great fire was lighted, for it was night. When all the animals were
+seated around the fire, the porcupine spoke.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 257px;">
+<img src="images/img121.jpg" width="257" height="300" alt="chipmonk" title="chipmonk" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"Friends," he said, "we have met here to settle a great question: 'Shall
+we have night all the time, or day?'" At this, all the animals began to
+talk at once. There was great confusion. The night animals kept
+shouting, "Night, night! Always night!" Others of the animals cried,
+"Day, day! Always day!" Still others called for "Day and night!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There was so much noise that it could not be decided what was best.</p>
+
+<p>At last the animals grew tired of calling. One by one the voices grew
+fainter, and the shouting ceased. Of the night animals, the voice of the
+bear alone was heard. He had a big voice and still kept calling, "Night,
+night! Always night!"</p>
+
+<p>The animals who wanted day all the time, and those who wanted day and
+night, also became quiet,&mdash;all except the chipmunk. He chattered on, "We
+will have light&mdash;and then night. We will have light&mdash;and then night.
+Chee, chee, chee!"</p>
+
+<p>Then the bear, too, became tired. He was fat and lazy, and so sleepy! He
+thought he would take a short nap.</p>
+
+<p>But all night long the wide-awake little chipmunk kept up his song. Not
+for a moment did he stop to rest. Out of the dark came his voice, sure
+and cheery, "We will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> have light&mdash;and then night. We will have
+light&mdash;and then night! Chee, chee, chee!"</p>
+
+<p>And before the animals knew it, the sun began to rise.</p>
+
+<p>At the first rays of light, the bear sat up, blinked, and rubbed his
+eyes. He saw that while he had slept, light had indeed come. He knew
+that he and the night animals had been beaten in the council, and that
+the chipmunk and the animals who wanted day and night had won.</p>
+
+<p>The bear was very angry. He struck at the chipmunk with his paw. But he
+was clumsy, and the chipmunk was spry!</p>
+
+<p>The chipmunk laughed and sprang into a hole of a hollow tree near by.
+But those black stripes on the chipmunk's back show where the paw of the
+black bear touched him as he slipped into the tree.</p>
+
+<p>Ever since this council, and the little chipmunk called so long and loud
+for "light and night," we have had day and night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_TWO_INDIAN_BOYS_SETTLED_A_QUARREL" id="HOW_TWO_INDIAN_BOYS_SETTLED_A_QUARREL"></a>HOW TWO INDIAN BOYS SETTLED A QUARREL</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 35px;">
+<img src="images/img124.jpg" width="35" height="350" alt="arrows" title="arrows" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow were two little Indian boys. They
+lived by Singing River, and they played from sunrise to sunset. They
+were as happy as the day was long.</p>
+
+<p>In the summer, they fished and swam in Singing River, and they shot
+their arrows into chipmunk and woodpecker holes. Sometimes they played
+"Dodging Arrows," a game their mother had taught them when they were
+very young.</p>
+
+<p>In the winter, they jumped into fleecy snowdrifts and rolled until their
+little bronze bodies took on a red-raspberry tint. Then they would send
+their snow-snakes skimming over the hard crust of snow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Snow-snakes were small rods of wood, polished smooth with resin, oil, or
+wax. They could be thrown long distances. Long Moose&mdash;Lightning Bow and
+Flying Squirrel's father&mdash;could throw a snow-snake a mile and a half,
+over the crust of the snow. But the snow-snakes he used were eight feet
+long and tipped with lead.</p>
+
+<p>It was the Moon of Berries. Six times had Flying Squirrel and Lightning
+Bow seen the Berry Moon hang her horn in the night sky. And not once in
+all their lives had they quarreled.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow planned a foot race.
+Seven times they were to run. Three times, Flying Squirrel had made the
+goal first. Three times, Lightning Bow had outrun him. The seventh race
+was claimed by each. No one saw them run, so no one could decide the
+game. And they fell to quarreling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;">
+<img src="images/img126.jpg" width="365" height="600" alt="Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow" title="Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Louder and louder their voices were raised. More and more angry they
+grew.</p>
+
+<p>White Fawn, their mother, was baking corn bread on the coals of the
+wigwam fire. The angry voices reached her ears. She stepped to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"For shame!" she called. "Go and set up your sticks."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 269px;">
+<img src="images/img127.jpg" width="269" height="280" alt="set up the sticks" title="set up the sticks" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Then she showed Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel how to set up three
+sticks so they would stand for many days.</p>
+
+<p>"Now go into the wood, set up your sticks, and leave your quarrel
+there," she said. "When the Berry Moon has passed, you shall return and
+see if the sticks are still standing.</p>
+
+<p>"If they lean toward the rising sun, Lightning Bow was right. If they
+lean toward the setting sun, Flying Squirrel won. If they have fallen
+down, neither was right and neither won."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel went into the wood and set up their
+sticks. Then they began to throw balls with willow wands, and soon they
+were happy again.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The sun had risen and set many times. The Berry Moon had passed. It was
+the Thunder Moon, when White Fawn said to Lightning Bow and Flying
+Squirrel, "Today you may go into the wood and see if your sticks are
+still standing."</p>
+
+<p>Hand in hand, the two little Indian boys ran into the wood. They found
+only a heap of rotting sticks.</p>
+
+<p>Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow stood and looked at the sticks. They
+thought and thought.</p>
+
+<p>"What did we set up the sticks for?" each asked of the other.</p>
+
+<p>And for the life of them they could not remember what they had quarreled
+about, and why they had set up the sticks!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_MICE_OVERCAME_THE_WARRIORS" id="HOW_MICE_OVERCAME_THE_WARRIORS"></a>HOW MICE OVERCAME THE WARRIORS</h2>
+
+
+<p>Once a tribe of the Iroquois became very warlike and cruel. They liked
+to follow the warpath rather than the hunting trails.</p>
+
+<p>These warriors thought only of the war dance. They forgot to give thanks
+for the sweet waters of the maple, and for the planting season. Neither
+did they remember to praise the Great Spirit, in song and dance, for the
+juicy strawberries, and the waving green corn, as once they had done.</p>
+
+<p>To fight was the one desire of their lives, the one thought that filled
+their minds. They boasted that none were so fierce and bloodthirsty as
+they.</p>
+
+<p>"Our arrows fall like leaves of the pine,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> they said, "and always are
+they red with blood. Our war shirts have many scalp locks on them."</p>
+
+<p>One day, a dispute arose with a neighboring tribe of their nation. The
+Peace Wigwam was not far away, but these warriors would not take their
+quarrel to it, as was the custom. The fighting Indians would have none
+of the Peace Wigwam.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img130.jpg" width="550" height="271" alt="arrows and sticks" title="arrows and sticks" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"Let the women and papooses sit in the sun at the door of the Peace
+Wigwam," they said scornfully. "Chiefs are for the warpath."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A fierce cry was raised, and the war dance was begun. The chiefs painted
+their bodies, donned their war shirts, sharpened their tomahawks, tipped
+their arrows, and tightened their bowstrings.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/img131.jpg" width="250" height="231" alt="cap and feathers" title="cap and feathers" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>But by the time they had made ready, the sun had set, and the blanket of
+darkness had fallen upon them. A council was quickly called. It was
+decided that they would not start to war until moonrise. So the warriors
+lay down to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>As they slept, another council was called. This was not a council of
+men, but of mice.</p>
+
+<p>From long and short trails they came, hundreds and hundreds of mice, for
+all had heard the warriors boast of their strength.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the mice, "we will show<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> these boasters how weak are men,
+and how strong are little mice."</p>
+
+<p>When all the mice were gathered about the council tree, the leader spoke
+thus: "My brothers, listen! The Great Spirit did not give men strength,
+that they should fight and kill one another. The Great Spirit did not
+make men powerful, that they should strike down and kill the weaker
+animals. Let us show these fierce warriors that it is the weak who are
+strong, and the strong who are weak. Let every mouse destroy at least
+one weapon before the moon shall rise."</p>
+
+<p>At this, all the mice set to work. Snap, snap, snap, went the bowstrings
+on all sides. Then the sharp little teeth began on the feathers that
+winged the poisoned arrows. Soon the feathers lay in bits about the
+ground.</p>
+
+<p>Next, the deerskin cords that bound the sling shots were cut in two, and
+before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> moon had risen, every weapon had been made useless; every
+Indian had been disarmed,&mdash;and the mice had scampered away.</p>
+
+<p>The warriors awoke. Again the war cry was raised. They sprang to their
+feet and seized their weapons, but found them useless. Their bows had no
+strings; their arrows, no wings; their slings, no cords.</p>
+
+<p>The warriors who boasted that they were the strongest and fiercest on
+the earth, had been made powerless by mice.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img133.jpg" width="550" height="140" alt="bows and arrows" title="bows and arrows" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_CROWS_ARE_POOR" id="WHY_CROWS_ARE_POOR"></a>WHY CROWS ARE POOR</h2>
+
+
+<p>After the Great Spirit had made the Red Children and had given them this
+beautiful land in which to live, he sent them a great gift,&mdash;the gift of
+the corn.</p>
+
+<p><i>Ga gaah</i>, the Crow, claims it was he who brought this gift. He says he
+was called to the wigwam of the Great Spirit in the sky. A grain of corn
+was placed in his ear, and he was told to carry it to earth, to the Red
+Children.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, as <i>Ga gaah</i> brought the gift, he claims he has a right to
+pull what corn he needs. <i>Ga gaah</i> says he does not "steal" corn. He
+simply takes what belongs to him, his rightful share.</p>
+
+<p>And surely <i>Ga gaah</i> is not greedy! He never takes more corn than he
+wants for himself. He never hides or stores it away. He takes just what
+he wishes to eat at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> time, and no more, for crows never think of
+to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>In summer, they are happy in the cornfields, guarding the roots from
+insect enemies, and pulling the tender blades whenever they are hungry.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img135.jpg" width="500" height="201" alt="crow" title="crow" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>But when winter comes, the crows are sad. Many councils are held.
+Sometimes a council tree will be black with crows. All are so poor and
+so hungry, that they get together to try to plan a better way to live.</p>
+
+<p>There is much noise and confusion at a crow council, for all the crows
+talk at once. All are saying, "No bird is so poor as the crow; he is
+always hungry. Next<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> summer, let us plant and raise a big crop of corn,
+and gather and save it for the winter. Next winter, crows will not be
+hungry; they will have food.</p>
+
+<p>"We will no longer take from the fields of the Red Children just enough
+corn for a meal to-day. We will raise our own corn, and lay by a store
+for the winter."</p>
+
+<p>And having agreed that this is a wise plan, the council ends.</p>
+
+<p>A few days later, another council will be called. At this, the crows
+will plan how and where to plant the corn. Some will be appointed to
+select a field, others to find seed, and still others to plant and tend
+the corn.</p>
+
+<p>But, alas! When spring comes, and skies are blue, and the sun shines
+warm, the crows forget the hunger of the winter, and the councils in the
+tree. They remember only that the skies are blue, and the sun shines
+warm, and now there is plenty of corn.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Happy and content, they walk up and down the fields of the Red Children.</p>
+
+<p>"We have all we want to-day," they say, "Why should we think of
+to-morrow, or next winter? We had a good meal this morning, and we are
+sure of one to-night. Is not this enough for a crow? What more can he
+ask?"</p>
+
+<p>And the next winter comes, and finds the crows as poor and as hungry as
+they were the last. Again they are holding noisy councils in the council
+tree. Again they are laying plans for the great crop of corn that they
+will raise next summer!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img137.jpg" width="550" height="244" alt="the great crop of corn" title="the great crop of corn" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_INDIAN_LOVES_HIS_DOG" id="WHY_THE_INDIAN_LOVES_HIS_DOG"></a>WHY THE INDIAN LOVES HIS DOG</h2>
+
+
+<p>The dog is the Indian's best friend. He is the comrade by day and the
+protector by night. As long as the Indian's dog has strength, he will
+fight for his friend.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian says this is how the dog came to take his part.</p>
+
+<p>An Indian and his dogs went into the woods to hunt. It was in the days
+when dogs and men could talk together, and each understood the language
+of the other.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the woods, the dogs began to talk with the Indian.
+They told him many wonderful things about the woods, which he did not
+know. They taught him many tricks of the chase: how to scent and track
+the game, and where to look for trails.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img139.jpg" width="550" height="232" alt="dogs" title="dogs" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The man listened to what the dogs said, and he did as they told him.
+Soon the sledge which the dogs had drawn to the woods was piled high
+with deer and other game.</p>
+
+<p>Never had the Indian's arrows brought him so much game. Never had he met
+with such success in hunting. He was so pleased that he said to the
+dogs, "Always shall I talk with you, give ear to what you say, and be
+one of you."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but listen!" said the dogs. "If you wish to be one of us, you must
+live under the law of dogs, not men. Animals have laws different from
+those of men. When two dogs meet for the first time,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> they try their
+strength to see which is the better dog.</p>
+
+<p>"Men do not fight when strangers meet, they shake hands. As we fight
+strange dogs, so you, too, must fight strange men, to see which is the
+best man,&mdash;if you are to live under the law of dogs."</p>
+
+<p>The man said he would think it over, and at sunrise give his answer.
+Indians always sleep before deciding a question.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, the man said he would live under the law of animals, and
+fight strange men.</p>
+
+<p>The following day, the man made ready to leave the woods. From the
+basswood, he made a strong harness for the dogs, so that they could draw
+the load of game back to the camp for him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img140.jpg" width="500" height="124" alt="dog sledge" title="dog sledge" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>When the sun was high, the man and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> the dogs started with the sledge
+load of game. They had not gone far before they saw two strange Indians
+coming.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the dogs to the man, "remember you are living under the
+dog's law. You must fight these strange men."</p>
+
+<p>The man attacked first one Indian and then the other. At last both
+turned on him, and when they left him, he was nearly dead. At this, the
+dogs took a hand. They leaped upon the Indians and drove them from the
+woods. Then they came back to where their friend lay on the ground, and
+began to talk with him and lick his face.</p>
+
+<p>The man could not speak for some time, but when his voice came to him,
+he said to the dogs, "No longer do I wish to live under the law of
+animals. No more shall I fight strangers. From this time, I shall shake
+hands with strangers, and bid them welcome. From this time, I shall be a
+man and live under the law of men."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then," said the dogs sadly, "we shall no longer be able to talk with
+you, and tell you the things that we know. But we will always stand by
+you. We will be your friends and will fight for you, when you need us as
+you did to-day."</p>
+
+<p>This is why the Indian and his dog are now unable to speak each other's
+language. This is also why an Indian's dog will fight to the death for
+his friend.</p>
+
+<p>Not only is the dog a true friend to the Indian in this world, but in
+the next as well. It seems that the soul of an Indian on its journey to
+the Happy Hunting Ground must cross a deep, swift-running stream. On
+either side of this dark river, there stand two dogs who hold in their
+teeth a great log upon which the souls pass.</p>
+
+<p>The soul of the Indian who has been kind to his dog crosses the log
+easily, for the dogs stand guard. As the soul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> of such an Indian reaches
+the river, they say, "This Indian was kind to his dog. He gave him of
+his own food, and the dog always had a warm place by his fire. We will
+help this Indian to cross."</p>
+
+<p>Then the dogs grip the log firmly in their teeth, and hold it steady
+while the soul of the kind Indian passes over.</p>
+
+<p>But if the soul of an Indian who has been unkind to his dog comes to the
+river, the dogs say, "This man was cruel to his dog. He gave his dog no
+place by the fire, he beat him, he let him go hungry. This man shall not
+cross."</p>
+
+<p>Then the dogs grip the log lightly in their teeth, and when the soul of
+the unkind Indian is half way across, they turn it quickly to one side,
+and the soul is thrown into the deep, dark river.</p>
+
+<p>Many an Indian has been kind to his dog, that he might make sure of a
+safe crossing on that log.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="GREEDY_FAWN_AND_THE_PORRIDGE" id="GREEDY_FAWN_AND_THE_PORRIDGE"></a>GREEDY FAWN AND THE PORRIDGE</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/img144.jpg" width="500" height="340" alt="chestnut" title="chestnut" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In the days when there was no one living in this country but the
+Indians, there were no houses; there were only Indian wigwams. There
+were no roads and no streets, but Indian trails.</p>
+
+<p>At that time there grew a wonderful chestnut, which the Indians used in
+their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> cooking. A very small bit of this chestnut grated into a kettle
+would make a potful of porridge.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 364px;">
+<img src="images/img145.jpg" width="364" height="600" alt="porridge" title="porridge" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In a certain wigwam lived Deerheart and Sky Elk, and their little son
+Greedy Fawn. The mother was called Deerheart because she was so loving,
+and gentle, and kind. The father was named Sky Elk because he was so
+strong and fleet of foot. Greedy Fawn, too, came rightly by his name.
+You will soon know why.</p>
+
+<p>One day, Deerheart and Sky Elk went on a long trail. As they left the
+wigwam, they said to Greedy Fawn, "Do not touch the chestnut, do not
+build a fire, while we are away."</p>
+
+<p>Greedy Fawn promised. He watched his father and mother disappear down
+the western trail. Then he went back to the wigwam.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," thought he, "I will have all the porridge I want."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So he ran and gathered some sticks. He built a fire with the sticks.
+Then he hung the kettle over the fire, and put some water in it. Then he
+found the chestnut. He grated a little of the chestnut into the kettle,
+and began to stir. Then he grated some more, and some more, and some
+more.</p>
+
+<p>Faster and faster Greedy Fawn stirred the boiling porridge, for it began
+to swell and fill the kettle.</p>
+
+<p>Larger and larger, it grew, and it grew, and it grew.</p>
+
+<p>Greedy Fawn was so frightened he did not know what to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, will it never stop swelling?" he thought. Harder and harder he
+stirred to keep the porridge from boiling over. Beads of perspiration
+ran down his little bronze face, yet still he stirred. He dared not
+stop.</p>
+
+<p>Then he remembered that sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> his mother would rap the kettle with
+the porridge stick, if it became too full.</p>
+
+<p>Rap, rap, rap, went the porridge stick on the edge of the kettle.
+Instantly the <i>kettle</i> began to swell. Larger, and larger, and larger it
+grew. Greedy Fawn was so frightened he did not know what to do.</p>
+
+<p>Now Greedy Fawn could not reach across the kettle, to stir the porridge
+with his stick, so he began to run around it. And around, and around,
+and around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and stirring.</p>
+
+<p>At last the kettle was so large that it nearly filled the wigwam. There
+was just space enough left for Greedy Fawn to run around it. And around,
+and around, and around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and
+stirring.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, how his little arms ached! And, oh, how tired his small legs were!
+But still he ran. He dared not stop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Here was porridge enough to last a small boy a lifetime, and he could
+not stop to taste one mouthful!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img149.jpg" width="550" height="302" alt="porridge pots" title="porridge pots" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>At last Greedy Fawn could run no longer. He stumbled and fell by the
+side of the kettle. He was too weak to rise. The stick fell from his
+hand, and the porridge boiled on. Higher, and higher, and higher it
+rose, until it ran over and down the sides of the kettle. Closer, and
+closer the boiling porridge crept to the little Indian boy, and soon
+Greedy Fawn and his stick were nearly buried in porridge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For once Greedy Fawn had all the porridge he wanted. And never again
+would he have wanted anything, had not Deerheart and Sky Elk heard his
+cries, and come running like deer up the trail to save him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img150.jpg" width="550" height="443" alt="Deerheart and Sky Elk" title="Deerheart and Sky Elk" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_HOUNDS_OUTRUN_OTHER_ANIMALS" id="WHY_HOUNDS_OUTRUN_OTHER_ANIMALS"></a>WHY HOUNDS OUTRUN OTHER ANIMALS</h2>
+
+
+<p>A hound was chasing a hare through the woods.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 257px;">
+<img src="images/img151.jpg" width="257" height="350" alt="A hound was chasing a hare through the woods" title="A hound was chasing a hare through the woods" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Some wolves and panthers were chasing a bull that had been feeding in
+the valley near the woods. For some time they had been trying to run him
+down, but they did not seem to gain on him.</p>
+
+
+<p>When the wolves and panthers saw that they were not gaining on the bull,
+they halted to take counsel. They decided that it would take a whole day
+of hard running to get the bull, and a hound was near! Why not go for
+the hound?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All agreed. They set off for the hound.</p>
+
+<p>Now the bull had heard the wolves and panthers take council, and he,
+too, set off for the woods.</p>
+
+<p>As he neared the wood, the bull called to the hound and warned him that
+a pack of wolves and panthers was after him. Just then they came into
+sight. The hound dared not meet them alone, and he knew not which way to
+turn.</p>
+
+<p>Then the bull called, "Come, jump on my back. I can outrun them."</p>
+
+<p>The hound ran and leaped on the back of the bull, and away they went.</p>
+
+<p>The bull and the hound talked as they ran. The bull said he thought the
+wolves would soon grow tired, fall back, and give up the chase. But he
+was wrong. They were too angry at being outwitted.</p>
+
+<p>"You think to take our game from us," they howled at the bull. "But we
+will eat hound meat to-night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The bull saw it was a run for life. All day he ran. For a time it was
+easy to outrun the wolves and panthers, but at last they began to press
+hard upon him.</p>
+
+<p>As the sun dropped out of the sky, the bull felt his knees begin to
+weaken. The weight of the hound was telling on him. A moment later, he
+stumbled and fell.</p>
+
+<p>In an instant, the pack was upon them. But with one leap, the hound
+cleared the pack and was off down the trail.</p>
+
+<p>The weaker wolves and panthers leaped upon the bull. The stronger went
+on.</p>
+
+<p>But now the best of them were no match for the hound. He was fresh and
+strong, for he had been riding all day. They were tired and worn from
+the long chase, and soon they gave it up.</p>
+
+<p>Because the hound is able to save his strength for the end of the chase,
+he can now outrun not only wolves and panthers, but all the other
+animals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_INDIANS_NEVER_SHOOT_PIGEONS" id="WHY_INDIANS_NEVER_SHOOT_PIGEONS"></a>WHY INDIANS NEVER SHOOT PIGEONS</h2>
+
+
+<p>An Indian hunter went into the forest in search of game.</p>
+
+<p>The forest was so large that it would have taken three days to journey
+through it. All day he followed the track of the deer, but his arrows
+brought him no food.</p>
+
+<p>At night, he came to a dark, swift-running stream. He was tired and
+hungry.</p>
+
+<p>"Here," said he, "I will lie down and rest until sunrise."</p>
+
+<p>He began to search for a bed of pine needles, for the Indian loves the
+pine tree. It is his friend by day and by night. By day it is his forest
+guide. At night it gives him a soft, sweet-smelling bed on which to
+sleep, and it shields him from the storm.</p>
+
+<p>The hunter ran along the stream. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> was very dark. He felt no soft pine
+needles under his moccasined feet, only the knotted roots of trees.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the great roots of an oak tree reached out and caught him. He
+could not free his foot from the oak's grasp.</p>
+
+<p>The sun rose and set. The great tree still held the hunter fast. He was
+weak from pain and hunger.</p>
+
+<p>It was now two days since he had tasted food. Four notches had been cut
+in his stick, for the Indian measures time in this way. Each sunrise and
+sunset, when he is on the trail, is marked by a notch on a small stick
+which he carries.</p>
+
+<p>Three times did the sun again rise and set, yet the tree did not let go
+its hold. There were now ten notches on the stick, and the hunter was so
+weak that he could scarcely cut the last one.</p>
+
+<p>As the sun rose on the fifth day, a bird flew into the tree. He saw the
+hunter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> lying on the ground, and came close and spoke to him.</p>
+
+<p>The hunter understood, for in those days men and birds could talk
+together.</p>
+
+<p>The bird asked the man what he could do for him, and the hunter
+whispered, "You are strong. You can fly a long trail. Go and tell the
+chief of my people."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 321px;">
+<img src="images/img157.jpg" width="321" height="350" alt="the birds" title="the birds" />
+
+</div>
+
+<p>The bird flew swiftly away with the message. He did not wait until the
+sun was high. He did not stop to eat one berry or one worm. He did not
+fly high, nor fly low to talk with other birds. He went straight to the
+people the hunter had told him of.</p>
+
+<p>The West Wind tried to blow him back. A black cloud came up to frighten
+him, but he went through it. On, and on, and on, he went. Straight to
+the wigwam of the chief, he carried his message.</p>
+
+<p>The chief had called together the young men who were fleet of foot, and
+was about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> to send them forth to find the lost hunter. They were asking
+the chief what trails they had best take. Before the chief could reply,
+a beautiful dove-colored bird had flown close to his ear and had spoken
+to him in soft, low tones.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>The chief told the young men what the bird had said, and they set off on
+the trail the bird had named. Before sunset, they had found the lost
+hunter.</p>
+
+<p>Carefully they freed him from the grasp of the great oak and bore him to
+his people. That night there was a feast and a dance in his honor.</p>
+
+<p>Ever since, the Indians have loved the birds that carry the messages,
+and they never shoot a pigeon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_OLD_MAN_WINTER_WAS_DRIVEN_BACK" id="HOW_OLD_MAN_WINTER_WAS_DRIVEN_BACK"></a>HOW OLD MAN WINTER WAS DRIVEN BACK</h2>
+
+
+<p>Far away in the North Sky lives Old Man Winter. Every year he leaves his
+wigwam in the sky and comes to earth.</p>
+
+<p>At the foot of a mountain, he builds a lodge of ice and snow, which no
+human being, animal, or bird can enter. There he lives for a time.</p>
+
+<p>North Wind is the only friend of Old Man Winter. When he passes near Old
+Man Winter's lodge, he gives a loud shriek, and with his blustering
+breath he blows open the door and enters.</p>
+
+<p>Near a fire which glows, but does not warm, North Wind finds a seat.
+There he and Old Man Winter sit and smoke, and lay their plans for the
+next snowstorm.</p>
+
+<p>When the council is ended, North<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> Wind departs, to drive up the snow and
+hail from the corners of the earth.</p>
+
+<p>Old Man Winter also leaves his lodge. He stalks over the mountains and
+valleys of the Red Children. The land becomes white with his breath. The
+rivers are stilled, and all the voices of the wood are hushed as he
+passes. A deep sleep falls upon every living thing.</p>
+
+<p>No sound is heard in the forest but the rapping on the trees. Old Man
+Winter carries a great hammer, and he strikes the trees a blow as he
+passes. The colder it grows, the louder and more frequently he raps. The
+trees snap, and the Indian lodges crack with his blows.</p>
+
+<p>One day, as Old Man Winter was stalking through a forest, he came upon a
+hunter's lodge. For days the snow had been falling. No track of deer or
+rabbit was to be seen, and the hunter and his little boy sat within,
+weak from hunger.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> They were also very cold, for the fire in the lodge
+burned low.</p>
+
+<p>Old Man Winter laughed and shook his hammer in glee, as he drew near.
+Once, twice, three times, he rapped. The little boy within heard him,
+and rapped three times in reply,&mdash;just as Old Man Winter had done.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/img161.jpg" width="300" height="245" alt="pot" title="pot" />
+</div>
+
+<p>At this, the hunter spoke. He told the boy that he must not mock a
+nature spirit, lest some harm should come to him. He might be captured
+and made to serve that spirit.</p>
+
+<p>Now when Old Man Winter heard the mocking raps of the little boy within
+the lodge, he was very angry. He breathed fiercely upon the little
+lodge. It shrank and shivered at his touch like a living thing. He
+struck it several sharp blows with his hammer, and passed on.</p>
+
+<p>The fire inside the lodge burned lower and lower. The hunter and his
+little son<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> drew closer and watched the last flame flicker and die out.</p>
+
+
+
+<p>As they sat by the ashes, numb with the cold, all of a sudden a new
+warmth filled the lodge. The South Wind gently opened the door, and a
+young chieftain, with a face like the sun, entered. He saw the dying
+hunter and the boy, and he warmed them back to life. When they were
+stronger, he helped them to rekindle the fire. Then he told them to take
+a few dried blackberries that they had in the lodge, and boil them in
+water.</p>
+
+<p>He said they must eat a portion of the blackberries, and throw the rest
+at Old Man Winter when he returned. This would frighten him away, for he
+was terribly afraid of blackberries.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 366px;">
+<img src="images/img162.jpg" width="366" height="600" alt="Old Man Winter" title="Old Man Winter" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Blackberries mean sunshine and summer heat. Old Man Winter cannot stay
+where they are. He never visits the earth at blackberry time.</p>
+
+<p>The hunter and the little boy said they would do as they had been told.
+Soon the young chieftain left the lodge, with the South Wind.</p>
+
+<p>Not many days later, Old Man Winter returned, and again came rapping at
+their lodge. But this time the hunter and the little boy were ready.
+They threw the blackberries at him, as they had been told, and he ran in
+fear to his ice lodge.</p>
+
+<p>The South Wind and the young chieftain with a face like the sun were
+near. They followed close upon the Old Man's track. When he was again
+inside the ice lodge, the South Wind rapped gently at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Begone!" said the Old Man. "No one but North Wind is welcome to my
+lodge."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then the South Wind breathed soft and warm upon the door of the ice
+lodge, and it melted at their feet. The young chieftain passed in and
+sat down by the strange fire that had no heat. The South Wind stayed
+without, and sang, soft and low.</p>
+
+<p>The Old Man was very angry. He raged about the lodge and ordered the
+young chieftain with sunshine in his face and warmth in his breath to
+depart.</p>
+
+<p>"I am great and powerful," said the Old Man. "When I touch the sky, the
+snow falls. When I speak, hunters hide in their lodges; animals crawl
+into their holes; and birds fly in fear.</p>
+
+<p>"When my hand touches the earth, it grows cold and hard, and all life
+dies. Begone! or I will make an ice man or a snow man of you."</p>
+
+<p>But the young chieftain moved not. He only sat and smiled at the bluster
+of the Old Man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Slowly he filled a pipe, and handed it to the Old Man, saying, "Here,
+smoke with me. It will give you strength to go to your lodge in the
+North Sky. It is time for you to depart. You are old, and tired, and
+worn. You and North Wind have had your day. The days that are to come
+belong to South Wind and to me.</p>
+
+<p>"I, too, am powerful, and I am young! I do not fear you. When I touch
+the earth, it grows soft and warm. Every living thing stirs in its
+sleep,&mdash;birds and bees, flowers and trees, animals and men. When I
+speak, the sleeping sun awakes. See! already he begins to send down his
+arrows. Hasten! that they may not find you, on the trail to the North
+Sky."</p>
+
+<p>The Old Man trembled. His legs and arms grew weak. Icicles fell from his
+beard. Great tears rolled down his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" he whispered, as he was melting at the young chieftain's
+feet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am <i>Go hay</i>&mdash;the Spring," answered the young chieftain. "All the
+earth is glad, when I come to drive you back to your lodge in the North
+Sky, for I bring sunshine, and love, and joy."</p>
+
+<p>But the Old Man did not hear. He was far on the North Sky trail, and
+Spring and South Wind were masters of earth.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img166.jpg" width="550" height="271" alt="flowers and bees" title="flowers and bees" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_LIGHTNING_SOMETIMES_STRIKES" id="WHY_LIGHTNING_SOMETIMES_STRIKES"></a>WHY LIGHTNING SOMETIMES STRIKES</h2>
+
+
+<p>An old man of the Iroquois nation once wished to make a beautiful Indian
+maiden his wife. The old man had many rare furs and valued strings of
+wampum. These he brought and laid at the door of the wigwam where the
+maiden lived.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 140px;">
+<img src="images/img167.jpg" width="140" height="400" alt="valued strings of
+wampum" title="valued strings of
+wampum" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The father and mother were pleased with the old man's gifts. They told
+him that when the Planting Moon should come, the maiden should go to his
+wigwam.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Now the maiden did not love the old man. She did not wish him to make
+her his wife. "I will never sit at his wigwam door," she said.</p>
+
+<p>It was midwinter, when the old man brought the gifts, the time of the
+pale, cold moon. From that time, the maiden watched, with a heavy heart,
+the moons wax and wane.</p>
+
+<p>At last the snows disappeared. No more was the North Wind heard
+shrieking about the lodge. The gentle South Wind had come, bringing with
+him the singing birds.</p>
+
+<p>The little brooks awoke and sang. They were happy that spring had come,
+and all the earth children were glad,&mdash;except the maiden. Her heart grew
+more heavy and sad, as the face of the sun grew brighter.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Planting Moon came. The maiden watched the moon hang her horn
+in the sky. Then she ran swiftly to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> great river that flowed not far
+from the lodge. Lightly she sprang into her canoe. A few quick strokes,
+and the canoe was in midstream.</p>
+
+<p>The current ran swift and strong. The little craft was carried swiftly
+down the river toward the great falls known as Niagara Falls. As the
+canoe neared the falls, the maiden was seen to rise and stretch out her
+arms, as though about to leap. A smile was on her face, and a song was
+on her lips, as the canoe shot into the mist that overhung the water.</p>
+
+<p>Then, from the caverns below a dark blanket floated upward, as though
+spread to catch the maiden. It was Heno, the Thunder Spirit, who dwelt
+behind the falls. He had caught her in the folds of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> his blanket, and
+had saved her from the great rocks below.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img169.jpg" width="550" height="162" alt="canoe" title="canoe" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Heno took the maiden to live with him, in his lodge behind the falls.
+There she was very happy, so happy that her smile shone through the
+mist, and the Indians cried, "See! A rainbow!"</p>
+
+<p>In her new home the maiden learned many wonderful things. She found she
+possessed strange powers, not known to her before. She could float on a
+cloud at will, and she seemed filled with a strange fire.</p>
+
+<p>One day, the young woman was given a son. Heno and she were very happy.
+Many moons the mother and child played together. When Heno was away on
+one of his journeys through the sky, they would ride the great bubbles
+of foam that went dashing through the rocks. Sometimes they would catch
+sunbeams in a net, as they sat on the edge of a cloud and fished.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One day, Heno asked the young woman if she would like to visit her
+people.</p>
+
+<p>"If you wish," he said, "you shall return for a time, taking our son
+with you. But remember, both of you possess powers unknown to the earth
+children. Be careful how you use them. Never let another child strike
+the boy, for that child would at once wither and die. Never strike the
+boy yourself, for he would fall stunned to earth."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 215px;">
+<img src="images/img171.jpg" width="215" height="380" alt="Cradle Board" title="Cradle Board" />
+<span class="caption">Cradle Board</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The woman listened to Heno's words. Soon they were wrapped in his great
+cloud blanket, and were floating over the river. When they came to the
+home of her people, Heno left the woman and the boy by the river, and
+went on further to the east.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The people were glad to see the woman, whom they had mourned as dead.
+She told them of the wonderful things she had learned in her new home.
+She told them also how Heno was freeing their land of a monster serpent,
+that trailed underneath the earth, poisoning their springs and causing
+sickness. Always, she said, Heno carried a basket of great rocks on his
+back, which he hurled at the monster whenever he saw him. Soon he would
+kill the serpent, and they would be sick no more.</p>
+
+<p>During many days, the mother and the little boy stayed with the earth
+people. Sometimes, when the child was playing by the river, he would see
+a dark cloud approaching. Then he would clap his hands with joy and cry,
+"There comes my father!"</p>
+
+<p>The black cloud would float earthward, and Heno would stop and have a
+word with the mother and the boy. As he left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> them he always said, "Do
+not let anyone strike the boy."</p>
+
+<p>But one day, the mother did not watch the boy, and he fell to playing
+with some earth children. They grew angry as they played, and struck the
+boy. Instantly these earth children fell dead to the ground. Then the
+mother laid hands on the boy, to punish him, and he fell to earth.</p>
+
+<p>At this, there came a great rumbling and roaring through the sky, and
+Heno appeared. He took the lifeless child in his arms, crying, "You have
+disobeyed. No longer shall you have this great power I gave you. You
+shall remain on earth and be simply an earth woman. I will take the boy
+to my abode. Henceforth, our lodge shall be in the sky. There he will
+return to life, and ever after he will go with me on my journeys through
+the sky."</p>
+
+<p>Then the sky shook and trembled. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> door of the sky lodge opened, and
+Heno and the boy were seen no more.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when a rumbling and rolling through the sky is heard, the Indians
+say, "'Tis the voice of Heno! He is coming from his lodge in the sky!"</p>
+
+<p>But when a flash of fire is seen, and a loud crash is heard, they say,
+"That is the boy! He is trying to hit the earth children with a fire
+stone. He remembers how they struck him, a long time ago."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/img174.jpg" width="300" height="257" alt="carrying basket" title="carrying basket" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_THE_HARE_HAS_A_SPLIT_LIP_AND_SHORT_TAIL" id="WHY_THE_HARE_HAS_A_SPLIT_LIP_AND_SHORT_TAIL"></a>WHY THE HARE HAS A SPLIT LIP AND SHORT TAIL</h2>
+
+
+<p>Once a rabbit began to run back and forth through the woods, calling for
+snow, snow, snow! It was one of those large gray rabbits, with long
+ears, that people call hares.</p>
+
+<p>As this hare ran back and forth through the woods, he sang at the top of
+his voice, "<i>Ah gon ne yah&mdash;yeh! Ah gon ne yah-yeh! Ah gon ne yah&mdash;yeh!
+dah gen, dah ton, Ah gon ne yah&mdash;yeh! Ah gon ne yah&mdash;yeh!</i>" This meant,
+"Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow! Snow, snow, snow! How
+I would run if I had snow!"</p>
+
+<p>Now, strange as it may seem, as this hare ran back and forth singing for
+snow, snow, snow, some flakes of snow began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> fall. The hare was so
+delighted that he jumped up and down for joy.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ah gon ne yah&mdash;yeh! Ah gon ne yah&mdash;yeh! Ah gon ne yah&mdash;yeh!</i>" he sang,
+in short, quick notes of joy. And the higher he jumped, and the louder
+he sang, the faster and thicker the snow came.</p>
+
+<p>The hare was so delighted that he again began to run. All day long he
+ran, back and forth through the woods, calling for "Snow, snow, snow!
+How I would run if I had snow!" And the snow fell faster and faster.
+Thicker and thicker it came. The path in which the rabbit ran grew
+higher and higher, as the snow fell deeper and deeper.</p>
+
+<p>But at last the hare was so tired that he could run no longer. He no
+longer sang for "Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow," for
+he now had more snow than he wanted. The snow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> was up to the tiptops of
+the trees, and it was very hard to run.</p>
+
+<p>The hare was very tired. He thought he must take a rest. Night was
+coming on. He looked about him. Near the path were the top branches of a
+willow tree, sticking out above the snow. He sprang into a crotch of
+those branches. There he could sit and rest for a time. Soon he fell
+asleep. He slept all night and part of the next day.</p>
+
+<p>That night it began to rain, and it rained very, very hard. The snow
+began to melt, and it melted very, very fast, and when that hare awoke,
+not a flake of snow was to be seen!</p>
+
+<p>But there was the hare away up in the tiptop of that willow tree! What
+to do he did not know. He was very hungry. He wondered how long he could
+stay there and not starve. He saw some tender buds on the branches. He
+ate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> those, and then he gnawed bark for a time.</p>
+
+<p>However, sooner or later, the hare knew he must jump or starve. He
+looked down at the earth. It looked very good to him. He could see some
+fresh green moss and some beautiful grass. One jump, and they were his!
+But what a jump!</p>
+
+<p>At last the hare whipped his courage up to the jumping point. He shut
+his eyes, and gave one great jump to earth. But when he jumped, he
+caught his tail on the branch of the willow tree and left part of it up
+there. And when he jumped, he struck the front of his face on a sharp
+stone, and the stone split his upper lip in two.</p>
+
+<p>Ever since then, hares have had split lips and short tails, and ever
+since then, willow trees have had tails, or catkins, on them, in the
+spring.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CORN_PLUME_AND_BEAN_MAIDEN" id="CORN_PLUME_AND_BEAN_MAIDEN"></a>CORN PLUME AND BEAN MAIDEN</h2>
+
+
+<p>The Great Spirit had smiled upon his Red Children. The land was filled
+with plenty, for the Great Spirit had given to them the three sustainers
+of life, the corn, the bean, and the squash. Flowers bloomed, birds
+sang, and all the earth was glad with the Red Children, for the gifts of
+the Great Spirit.</p>
+
+<p>On one side of a hill grew the tall, waving corn, with its silk tassels
+and plumes. On another side, beans, with their velvety pods, climbed
+toward the sky. Some distance down a third slope, beautiful yellow
+squashes turned their faces to the sun.</p>
+
+<p>One day, the Spirit of the corn grew restless. There came a rustling
+through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> the waving leaves, and a great sigh burst from the heart of the
+tall stalks. The Spirit of the corn was lonely.</p>
+
+<p>After that, every morning at sunrise, a handsome young chief was seen to
+come and stand on the brow of the hill. On his head were shining red
+plumes. Tall, and strong, and splendid he stood, wrapped in the folds of
+his waving blanket, whose fringed tassels danced to the summer breeze.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Che che hen! Che che hen!</i> Some one I would marry! Some one I would
+marry!" the young chieftain would sing, many, many times.</p>
+
+<p>One day, his voice reached the Squash Maiden, on the other side of the
+hill. The Squash Maiden drew about her a rich green blanket, into which
+she had woven many flaunting gold trumpet-shaped flowers. Then she ran
+swiftly to the young chieftain.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;">
+<img src="images/img181.jpg" width="365" height="600" alt="Marry me! Marry me" title="Marry me! Marry me" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"Marry me! Marry me!" said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> Squash Maiden, as she spread her
+beautiful gold and green blanket at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>Corn Plume looked down at the Squash Maiden sitting on her blanket at
+his feet. She was good to look upon, and yet Corn Plume was not content.
+He wanted a maiden who would stand by his side, not always sit at his
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>Then Corn Plume spoke thus to the Squash Maiden.</p>
+
+<p>"Corn Plume cannot marry Squash Maiden. She is very beautiful, but she
+will not make song in Corn Plume's heart. Squash Maiden will grow tired
+of his lodge. She will not stay in his wigwam. She likes to go a long
+trail, and wander far from the lodge.</p>
+
+<p>"Corn Plume cannot make Squash Maiden his wife, for he is not content
+with her. But she shall be Corn Plume's sister, and sit in his lodge
+whenever she will. The maiden Corn Plume weds must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> be ever at his side.
+She must go where he goes, stay where he stays."</p>
+
+<p>Next morning at sunrise, the voice of Corn Plume was again heard,
+singing from the hilltop, "<i>Che che hen! Che che hen!</i> Some one I would
+marry! Some one I would marry! <i>Che che hen! Che che hen!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>This time his song reached the ears of the Bean Maiden. Her heart sang,
+when she heard the voice of Corn Plume, for she knew that he was calling
+her. So light of heart was Bean Maiden, that she ran like a deer up the
+hillside. On and on, up and over the brow of the hill she climbed, till
+she reached the young chieftain's side.</p>
+
+<p>Then Corn Plume turned and beheld the most beautiful maiden he had ever
+seen. Her eyes were deep and dark, like mountain pools. Her breath was
+sweet as the waters of the maple. She threw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> off her blanket of green,
+and purple, and white, and stretched her twining arms to him.</p>
+
+<p>Corn Plume desired to keep Bean Maiden forever close to him. He bent his
+tall plumed head to her. Her arms wound round and round the young
+chieftain, and Corn Plume was content.</p>
+
+<p>So closely were the arms of Corn Plume and the Bean Maiden entwined, so
+truly were they wed, that the Indians never attempted to separate them.
+Ever after, corn and beans were planted in the same hill, and often a
+squash seed was added.</p>
+
+<p>Since the Great Spirit had placed the corn, the bean, and the squash
+together on a hill, the Indian said they should continue to live and
+grow and occupy a hill together.</p>
+
+<p>The door of Corn Plume's lodge was ever open to the Squash Maiden, if
+she chose to enter. But seldom did she stay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> in his wigwam. More often,
+she was found running off on a long trail.</p>
+
+<p>But Bean Maiden remained true to Corn Plume. Always she was found by his
+side. Never did she leave the lodge unless he went with her. Corn
+Plume's lodge was her lodge, and her trail was his trail.</p>
+
+<p>And because the Spirits of the corn and the bean are as one, the Indians
+not only plant and grow them together, but cook and eat them together.
+"In life, they were one," they say, "We will not separate them in
+death."</p>
+
+<p>And now, when a great rustling and sighing of the corn is heard in the
+White man's land, the Indians often say, "'Tis the Spirit of Corn Plume,
+crying for his lost Bean Maiden!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 380px;">
+<img src="images/img185.jpg" width="380" height="141" alt="corn ear" title="corn ear" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_ROBIN_BURNED_HIS_BREAST" id="HOW_THE_ROBIN_BURNED_HIS_BREAST"></a>HOW THE ROBIN BURNED HIS BREAST</h2>
+
+
+<p>Some Indian hunters once made their way north, to hunt for moose. It was
+at the time of Falling Leaves.</p>
+
+<p>They journeyed for several days, until they came to a lake. Close by the
+lake they built a log cabin. Moss was placed between the logs to keep
+out the wind, and a thick roof was made from hemlock boughs. In the
+center of the roof, a small opening was left for the smoke from the
+lodge fire to pass out.</p>
+
+<p>Here the hunters lived during the Moon of Falling Leaves. Every day they
+went on the moose trail, but they found no moose. Their arrows brought
+them little game of any kind. They became discouraged and sick, and one
+by one the hunters lay down and died.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At last there was but one hunter left. He, too, was sick, and he grew
+weaker day by day. His food was nearly gone. It was growing cold, and
+there was little wood in the cabin to burn.</p>
+
+<p>But the man did not give up. Again and again he cried aloud, "Some one
+will come and help me! Some one will come and help me!"</p>
+
+<p>One day, as he lay there too weak to rise, the fire flickered and went
+out. It seemed that he must die. But even then he did not give up. Again
+and again, with his weak voice he cried, "Some one will come and help
+me! Some one will come and help me!"</p>
+
+<p>And some one did come and help him. His cry was heard, for a bird came
+flying in through the smoke hole in the roof of the lodge.</p>
+
+<p>The bird had such a cheery, brave voice that the man felt better the
+moment he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> flew in. The bird said to the man, "I was near; I heard you
+calling. I have come to help you."</p>
+
+<p>Then the bird saw that the fire was out, and that the man was cold. He
+fluttered among the ashes until he found a bit of live coal. With a glad
+chirp, he flew out through the roof. Soon he was back, with his bill
+full of dried twigs. He placed them on the fire and began to fan them
+into flame with his wings. Soon the twigs were blazing. Then he flew out
+for more twigs,&mdash;and more, and more, and more.</p>
+
+<p>The brave little bird kept on carrying twigs until the fire burned hot,
+and the lodge was warm once more.</p>
+
+<p>When the bird had flown into the lodge, he had had a clean, white
+breast. After the fire was built, his breast was covered with red and
+brown spots. He tried to pick them off with his bill, but they would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>
+not come off. Instead, they seemed to spread, and his whole breast
+became red-brown. Then the bird knew that he must have burned his breast
+to a red-brown, when he was fanning the fire into flame.</p>
+
+<p>But the little bird did not care if he had soiled his white breast, and
+burned it red-brown. Had he not brought cheer and life to a dying man?</p>
+
+<p>He chirped a few glad notes, then said to the man, "I will go now, but I
+shall be near your lodge. When you need me, call, and I will come
+again."</p>
+
+<p>Later in the day, the man again called for help. The fire was getting
+low, and he was not yet strong enough to go out and gather twigs. Again
+the bird came to his aid. In and out he flew, many times, after small
+branches and twigs, until they were piled high on the fire, and once
+more it crackled and burned.</p>
+
+<p>There was a little wood in the lodge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> The man placed it on the fire,
+and the warmth healed the man, so that soon he was well and strong
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Every day the man talked with the bird, for he was always near, and his
+cheery voice and brave words gave the man courage.</p>
+
+<p>Once more he went on the moose trail, and this time his arrows brought
+him moose. In a short time the hunter had all the meat, skins, and moose
+hair he wanted. The moose hair he was taking to his wife, to work into
+pretty forms on moccasins.</p>
+
+<p>The first snow was falling, as the hunter started south on the home
+trail. The bird hopped along by his side for a little way, then said, "I
+must leave you now. Winter is coming, and I must be on my way to the
+Southland, or the snow will catch me. In the spring you will see me
+again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When spring came, the bird with the red-brown breast came with his mate,
+and built a nest close to the hunter's home lodge. In the nest, that
+summer, there grew up five little birds, and they, too, had red and
+brown breasts.</p>
+
+<p>And ever since, Robin Redbreast has continued to come and build his nest
+close to the lodges of men, for Robin Redbreast is a friend to man.</p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img191.jpg" width="550" height="309" alt="Robin Redbreast" title="Robin Redbreast" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p>
+<h2><br /><br /><a name="IROQUOIS_FAIRY_STORIES" id="IROQUOIS_FAIRY_STORIES"></a>IROQUOIS FAIRY STORIES</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/img193.jpg" width="350" height="347" alt="Iroquois fairy stories" title="Iroquois fairy stories" />
+</div>
+
+<p><br /></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_MORNING_STAR_LOST_HER_FISH" id="HOW_MORNING_STAR_LOST_HER_FISH"></a>HOW MORNING STAR LOST HER FISH</h2>
+
+
+<p>Once the Little People, the Indian fairies, ran with the Red Children
+through the woods, and played with them beside the streams. Now they are
+not often seen, for the white man drove them out of the woods with the
+Indians, and away from the waters, with his big steam noises.</p>
+
+<p>But before steamboats and great mills were on the streams, the Little
+People were there. They were often seen paddling their tiny canoes, or
+sliding down the great rocks on the banks. They loved to slide down a
+bank where one rock jutted out, for then they had a big bounce. They
+also liked to sport and jump with the fish.</p>
+
+<p>There was a young Indian girl whose name was Morning Star. She was
+called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> Morning Star because her face was so bright, and she was always
+up early in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>Morning Star lived with her father in a comfortable wigwam by a river.
+Every day she would get up with the sun, and run down to the river where
+the great rocks were, to catch fish for breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Morning Star caught her fish in a basket. At night, she would go and
+fasten her basket between the rocks, in a narrow place of the stream.
+Then, when the fish swam through in the night, they would get caught in
+it, and Morning Star would find plenty of fish waiting for her. In the
+morning, she would take the basket of fish back to the wigwam, and soon
+the smell of fish frying on hot coals would come from the lodge.</p>
+
+<p>Never since Morning Star began to fish with her basket, had Chief Little
+Wolf, her father, had to wait for his fish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> breakfast before starting on
+the chase. But one morning, neither Chief Little Wolf nor Morning Star
+breakfasted on fish. This is how it happened.</p>
+
+<p>On this morning, the Indian girl was up as usual with the sun. She ran
+down the river just as the Great Spirit lifted the sun's smiling face.
+Morning Star had such a light heart that she was glad just to be alive,
+and she sang a song of praise as she ran. All true Indians at sunrise
+lift their arms and faces to the sun, and thank the Great Spirit that he
+has smiled upon them again.</p>
+
+<p>Happy and fleet as a deer, Morning Star ran on until she came to the
+great rocks. There she saw a whole tribe of tiny little folk gathered
+about her basket. Some of them were perched on the sides of the basket,
+laughing and singing. Others were lifting the fish from it and throwing
+them into the stream. Still others were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> opening and closing the splints
+of the basket for the fish to slip through.</p>
+
+<p>Morning Star knew that these tiny folk were the <i>Jo gah oh</i>. She knew
+also that these Little People were friends of the fish. They know every
+twist of a fish net and every turn of a hook. Often they have been known
+to set fish free, and to guide them into deep, quiet places, far away
+from the men who fish.</p>
+
+<p>Morning Star called to the Little People and begged them not to let all
+the fish go. Then she began to climb down the rocks, as fast as she
+could. The little Chief called up to her, "Fish, like Indian girls, like
+to be alive."</p>
+
+<p>Then he told the Little People to keep on setting the fish free.</p>
+
+<p>When Morning Star reached her basket, a few fish were still in it. She
+put out her hand to take them from the Little People,&mdash;and not a fish,
+nor a <i>Jo gah oh</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> was to be seen. The Little People had darted into
+the rocks, for they go through anything, and the fish had slipped
+through the tiny spaces between the splints of the basket.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 366px;">
+<img src="images/img198.jpg" width="366" height="600" alt="Morning Star" title="Morning Star" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Morning Star heard the laughter of the Little People echo deep within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>
+the rocks, for they like to play pranks with the earth children. And far
+down the stream, she saw the fish leap with joy at being still alive.
+She took up her empty basket and went back to the wigwam.</p>
+
+<p>That morning for breakfast, Morning Star baked corn cakes on the hot
+coals. As she ate the hot cakes, she thought they tasted almost as good
+as fish.</p>
+
+<p>Ever after, when Morning Star saw a fish leap from the stream, she
+remembered what the <i>Jo gah oh</i> had said: "Fish, like Indian girls, like
+to be alive."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_LITTLE_SHOOTER_LOST_HIS_LUCK" id="HOW_LITTLE_SHOOTER_LOST_HIS_LUCK"></a>HOW LITTLE SHOOTER LOST HIS LUCK</h2>
+
+
+<p>One day, an Indian boy was playing beside a stream, when one of the
+little elf men came along in his canoe. The boy had his bow and arrow
+with him; so had the little elf man.</p>
+
+<p>The little man stopped and offered to trade bows and arrows. The Indian
+boy looked first at his bow, and then at that of the little man. His bow
+was large. The little man's bow was very small. The boy thought his own
+bow was better, so he said he would not trade.</p>
+
+<p>The little elf man laughed and drew his bow.</p>
+
+<p>"You think only big things are great," he said. "Some day you will learn
+better. Some day you will want this little bow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> and these little arrows.
+Some day you will wish you had traded."</p>
+
+<p>Then he shot an arrow into the clouds, sprang into his canoe, and
+paddled off up the stream. As he disappeared, he called back to the boy,
+"You will see me again, sometime!"</p>
+
+<p>The Indian boy ran to his wigwam home. He told his father about the
+little man he had seen, and how the man wanted to trade bow and arrows.</p>
+
+<p>"And you did not trade?" exclaimed the father.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said the boy, "his bow was small; mine is large."</p>
+
+<p>"Foolish boy!" said the father. "That little man was a <i>Jo gah oh</i>, one
+of the Little People. They do wonderful things. Their arrows are winged
+with power. Had you traded bows, you would have become a great hunter,
+and been able to get near the animals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Those little arrows of the <i>Jo gah oh</i> fly swift and far, and always
+bring back game. The boy who has a <i>Jo gah oh</i> bow and arrow always has
+good luck. One arrow of theirs is worth a flight of yours. Had you
+traded bow and arrows, you would have been called 'He shoots the sky.'
+Now you shall be called 'Little Shooter.'"</p>
+
+<p>Little Shooter grew to be a man. He went often on the chase, but his
+arrows did not bring much game.</p>
+
+<p>Many times, he wished he could meet the little elf man again, and trade
+bow and arrows, for sometimes he ran for days and found no track of deer
+or rabbit. But the little elf man never came.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when Little Shooter had grown to be quite an old man, he was
+walking in the woods. He stopped under a tree to rest. Several times he
+felt something fall on his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At last he looked up to see what it was.</p>
+
+<p>There sat the little elf man, swinging on the tip of a branch, and
+throwing nuts and twigs at him. He looked just as he did when Little
+Shooter met him by the stream long before. He had not grown old or
+changed at all.</p>
+
+<p>"How long have you been here?" asked Little Shooter.</p>
+
+<p>"I have always been here," said the little man. "I have been in the
+world ever since the stones were soft."</p>
+
+<p>Then he laughed, and asked, "Does Little Shooter now like big bow and
+arrows best, or has he learned that sometimes small things are great?
+Next time, he had better trade with the little man," and aiming another
+nut at Little Shooter's head, he disappeared in the tree trunk.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/img203.jpg" width="550" height="101" alt="Hazel nuts" title="Hazel nuts" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_AN_INDIAN_BOY_WON_HIS_NAME" id="HOW_AN_INDIAN_BOY_WON_HIS_NAME"></a>HOW AN INDIAN BOY WON HIS NAME</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was bluebird time, many moons ago. Little brooks laughed and danced,
+and all the forest was glad.</p>
+
+<p>An Indian boy came running through the forest. He, too, was glad, for it
+was spring!</p>
+
+<p>As he ran down the trail, he saw something hanging from a bush. The bush
+was but a few rabbit jumps from the trail, so he stopped to see what new
+flower the spring had brought. He found the new flower to be a tiny
+papoose cradle.</p>
+
+<p>The boy picked the cradle from the bush, and held it in the palm of his
+hand. As he looked closer, he saw that there was a tiny papoose in the
+little cradle. The wee papoose laughed in his face, as he spoke to it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The boy had never seen so tiny a papoose, and he thought he would take
+it home to his mother, it was so cunning. She had but nine of her own.
+He was sure she would like one more, and that there would be a place for
+the tiny stranger in their wigwam.</p>
+
+<p>He started to run on down the trail, but something seemed to hold him
+fast. He could not get away. Three times he tried to run, but each time
+he only circled round that bush. Something held him to the spot.</p>
+
+<p>Just then there came a sharp cry from up the trail. The boy thought some
+animal must be hurt or in pain. He turned to look and saw a little woman
+coming. She was less than a foot high, but she ran like a deer to the
+boy, and cried and begged him to give back her baby.</p>
+
+<p>Then the boy knew it was the love of that little mother that had held
+him fast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> He could not break the love cord between that mother and her
+baby.</p>
+
+<p>Now the boy had a heart that was soft and kind. He liked to see
+everything happy. When he saw the little mother crying and begging for
+her baby, he felt sorry for her.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 227px;">
+<img src="images/img206.jpg" width="227" height="350" alt="beaded bag" title="beaded bag" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Many times he had heard his mother tell how every mother bird loves her
+young; every mother bear, her cub; every mother deer, her fawn; every
+Indian mother, her papoose. And he knew this little fairy mother must
+also love her fairy baby, so he put it on the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> mother's back, and
+told her she should have her papoose.</p>
+
+<p>The little mother gave a glad cry, as she felt the baby on her back once
+more. Then she drew a stone from a bag which she carried, and slipped it
+on a string of beads that hung from the boy's neck.</p>
+
+<p>The stone shone on his breast like a dewdrop.</p>
+
+<p>"Because you are good, and kind, and unselfish, and because you make
+everything happy," she said, "you shall wear this good-luck stone. It
+will bring you whatever you want.</p>
+
+<p>"We Little People give this stone to those earth children only, who are
+strong and yet protect the weak. Wear it always on your breast. Never
+take it off, and you will become a mighty chief."</p>
+
+<p>Then the little mother gave another glad cry, and with her baby on her
+back she disappeared into an oak.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The boy ran on. His heart grew lighter and the stone brighter, as he
+ran. Before he reached his mother's wigwam, his arrows had brought back
+game for their evening meal.</p>
+
+<p>From the day when the boy met the little <i>Jo gah oh</i> mother in the wood,
+and was given the stone, he had good luck. Whatever he did, all went
+well with him. If he went on the chase, he brought back deer. If he
+planted corn, it grew tall and fine. No boy could throw a ball as far,
+or could run as fast as he. He could shoot his arrows to the sky, and
+could send his snow-snakes skimming far beyond the rest.</p>
+
+<p>So lucky was this Indian boy, that his tribe called him
+"Luck-in-all-moons." "He wears the good-luck stone," the old people said
+as they sat around the fire, and they nodded their heads knowingly. But
+they never knew how he came by it, or why he won the stone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And when "Luck-in-all-moons" grew to be a man, his tribe made him a
+great chief. Just as the little <i>Jo gah oh</i> mother had said, he became a
+chief, though not in the chieftain line.</p>
+
+<p>Because he stood so strong and straight, serving the people, protecting
+the weak, and doing great deeds, he was called the Pine-tree Chief.</p>
+
+<p>"His feet are planted deep in wisdom and strength," they said, "and his
+head is not far from the sky. He sees far and points us the way. As the
+topmost branch of the pine points always to the east, so
+Luck-in-all-moons shall guide us to the sun rising. He shall be our
+Pine-tree Chief."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="HOW_THE_FAIRIES_WORKED_MAGIC" id="HOW_THE_FAIRIES_WORKED_MAGIC"></a>HOW THE FAIRIES WORKED MAGIC</h2>
+
+
+<p>Once a little Indian girl was very sad and unhappy. The Great Spirit had
+taken her father and mother, and she had gone to live with relatives who
+did not want her. Often she went to sleep hungry, for only the scraps of
+food that were left from a meal were given to her.</p>
+
+<p>One day, the relatives of the little girl brought in a fine deer from
+the chase, and made ready for a feast. They told the girl to get out of
+the lodge, for there was neither room, nor meat for her.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl ran and hid herself in a great field of corn. There she
+cried aloud.</p>
+
+<p>Soon a band of strange Little People gathered about her, to comfort her.
+On<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> all sides, from the folds of the green cornstalks they came.</p>
+
+<p>They stroked her head, wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, "Don't
+cry, little girl. We will take care of you. You shall come and live with
+us. We will make a feast for you. We know why you are sad, for we can
+read the thoughts of all the earth children. Come with us, and we will
+show you more wonderful things than you have ever seen."</p>
+
+<p>At this the little girl dried her tears, and smiled at the kind Little
+People.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very good to me," she said. "Who are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"We are the <i>Jo gah oh</i>," they replied, "the Little People. Come, and we
+will show you what we can do."</p>
+
+<p>Then they slipped some winged moccasins upon her feet. They wrapped her
+in an invisible blanket and put a magic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> corn plume in her hair, and the
+next moment all were flying through the air.</p>
+
+<p>They flew to a ledge of great rocks. At the touch of the Little People,
+the rocks opened, and they passed within.</p>
+
+<p>The girl found herself in a beautiful lodge. Kind <i>Jo gah oh</i> mothers
+were baking cakes and roasting meat. They welcomed the girl, and soon a
+feast was spread in her honor.</p>
+
+<p>Now the heart of the little girl was so light that she danced with joy.</p>
+
+<p>"What wonderful people you are! Can you go anywhere, or do anything you
+wish?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the little chief, "the <i>Jo gah oh</i> are small, but they are
+great. Come with us, and you shall see what we can do."</p>
+
+<p>Again they were flying through the air. Soon they reached the lodge
+where the little girl had lived. It was night, and her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> relatives were
+asleep, but she could see the deer that hung outside ready for the
+feast.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the <i>Jo gah oh</i> chief, "we will call out a pack of wolves
+from the wood yonder, and there will be no fat deer for this selfish
+feast, at sunrise."</p>
+
+<p>Now no wolves had been seen in that wood for many moons. But at the call
+of the fairies, a pack sprang from it, ran to the lodge, seized the
+deer, and tore it into shreds. Then they again disappeared in the wood.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl's eyes were large now with wonder, as they flew back to
+the fairy lodge in the rocks, but she was not afraid of these strange
+Little People. She was so happy with them she wished she might always
+live in a <i>Jo gah oh</i> lodge.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, the little chief said, "Today we shall see more wonders."</p>
+
+<p>This time a tiny canoe was waiting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> They stepped into it and sailed
+down a river until they came to a great tree.</p>
+
+<p>"In that tree," said the little chief, "lives a great, black bear. Every
+day he comes out that door you see high up in the bear tree. I will make
+the door fast so he cannot open it. A deep sleep will fall on him. He
+will sleep for many moons."</p>
+
+<p>Then the chief threw three stones through the open door of the bear
+tree. Each time, a flame spread like a blanket over the door. A growling
+and scratching was heard within. Then all became still.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the chief, "the bear will sleep until I call him in the
+spring. He is locked up for the winter. Come, let us go on."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl drew her invisible blanket closer, as the canoe went
+sailing with the birds through the clouds. The birds that were swift of
+wing called loudly for a race.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on!" said the fairy chief.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then he spread wide the invisible sails of his canoe, and they flew past
+the birds like a streak of lightning. Even the eagle was left far
+behind. They seemed to shoot through the sky.</p>
+
+<p>And, oh, what fun it was to be a bird! The little girl would have sailed
+on forever, but the little chief said, "You shall now return to your
+people. We have given them soft hearts and kind minds. They are calling
+for you. They will be glad to see you."</p>
+
+<p>And soon the little girl was again in the wigwam of her relatives,
+sitting by the warm fire.</p>
+
+<p>They greeted her with joy, spread a soft skin for her to sit upon, and
+gave her the best food. And the little girl lived with them, ever after,
+and was happy.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<blockquote><h3>FOOTNOTE</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>Myths and Legends of the Iroquois</i>, by Harriet Maxwell
+Converse.</p></div></blockquote>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stories the Iroquois Tell Their
+Children, by Mabel Powers
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+</body>
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+Project Gutenberg's Stories the Iroquois Tell Their Children, by Mabel Powers
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Stories the Iroquois Tell Their Children
+
+Author: Mabel Powers
+
+Release Date: July 18, 2007 [EBook #22096]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THE IROQUOIS TELL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Janet Blenkinship and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  STORIES
+  THE IROQUOIS
+  TELL THEIR
+  CHILDREN
+
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+  MABEL POWERS
+  (YEH SEN NOH WEHS)
+
+
+  AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY
+  NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO
+
+  Copyright, 1917, by
+  MABEL POWERS.
+  _All rights reserved._
+  W. P. 9
+
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+  TO ALL THE CHILDREN WHO ASK
+  HOW AND WHY,
+  ESPECIALLY THOSE RED CHILDREN
+  WHO SEE WITH WONDER EYES,
+  AND THOSE PALEFACE CHILDREN
+  WHO YET BELIEVE IN FAIRIES,
+  THESE STORIES ARE LOVINGLY DEDICATED
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+                                                           PAGE
+
+  ACKNOWLEDGMENT                                              8
+
+  FOREWORD BY THE CHIEFS                                      9
+
+  INTRODUCTORY
+
+  HOW THE STORIES CAME TO BE                                 11
+
+  WHY I WAS CALLED THE STORY-TELLER                          13
+
+  THE LITTLE PEOPLE                                          18
+
+  STORY-TELLING TIME                                         23
+
+  HOW THE IROQUOIS GIVE THANKS                               27
+
+  A FIREMAKER AND A PEACEMAKER                               34
+
+
+  IROQUOIS WONDER STORIES
+
+  HOW THE WHITE MAN CAME                                     45
+
+  WHY THE EAGLE DEFENDS AMERICANS                            49
+
+  HOW THE TURKEY BUZZARD GOT HIS SUIT                        60
+
+  WHY THE PARTRIDGE DRUMS                                    66
+
+  HOW THE INDIANS LEARNED TO HEAL                            69
+
+  WHY DOGS CHASE FOXES                                       75
+
+  WHY HERMIT THRUSH IS SO SHY                                79
+
+  HOW GOOD AND EVIL CAME TO BE                               85
+
+  HOW A BOY WAS CURED OF BOASTING                            90
+
+  WHY THE CUCKOO IS SO LAZY                                  95
+
+  HOW THE COON OUTWITTED THE FOX                             99
+
+  WHY THE GOLDFINCHES LOOK LIKE THE SUN                     103
+
+  WHAT THE ASH AND THE MAPLE LEARNED                        107
+
+  HOW THE WOMAN OVERCAME THE BEAR                           112
+
+  WHY THE WOODPECKER BORES FOR ITS FOOD                     115
+
+  WHY THE ICE ROOF FELL                                     119
+
+  WHY THE CHIPMUNK HAS BLACK STRIPES                        122
+
+  HOW TWO INDIAN BOYS SETTLED A QUARREL                     125
+
+  HOW MICE OVERCAME THE WARRIORS                            130
+
+  WHY CROWS ARE POOR                                        135
+
+  WHY THE INDIAN LOVES HIS DOG                              139
+
+  GREEDY FAWN AND THE PORRIDGE                              145
+
+  WHY HOUNDS OUTRUN OTHER ANIMALS                           152
+
+  WHY INDIANS NEVER SHOOT PIGEONS                           155
+
+  HOW OLD MAN WINTER WAS DRIVEN BACK                        159
+
+  WHY LIGHTNING SOMETIMES STRIKES                           168
+
+  WHY THE HARE HAS A SPLIT LIP AND SHORT TAIL               176
+
+  CORN PLUME AND BEAN MAIDEN                                180
+
+  HOW THE ROBIN BURNED HIS BREAST                           187
+
+
+  IROQUOIS FAIRY STORIES
+
+  HOW MORNING STAR LOST HER FISH                            195
+
+  HOW LITTLE SHOOTER LOST HIS LUCK                          201
+
+  HOW AN INDIAN BOY WON HIS NAME                            205
+
+  HOW THE FAIRIES WORKED MAGIC                              211
+
+
+
+
+ACKNOWLEDGMENT
+
+
+If the Red Children had not welcomed the writer to their lodge fires,
+these stories the Iroquois tell their children could not have been
+retold. With one or two exceptions, the ideas found in the stories have
+been had from the lips of the Indians themselves. To ARTHUR C.
+PARKER--_Ga wa so wa neh_--for his careful review of the stories and
+assistance in securing authentic Iroquois illustrations; and to the
+following story-tellers who so kindly welcomed her to their lodges, and
+told her stories, the writer is most grateful.
+
+  EDWARD CORNPLANTER (_So son do wah_--"Great Night")           Seneca Wolf
+  WILLIAM PATTERSON (_Ga reh hwonts_--"Power has come down") Tuscarora Deer
+  MOSES SHONGO (_Ho non da a suh_--"Keeper of the hills")       Seneca Wolf
+  CLIFFORD SHONGO (_Ouhn yah dah goh_--"Very dark blue sky")    Seneca Wolf
+  CHARLES DOXON (_Hoh squa sa ga dah_--"Woodsman")          Onondaga Turtle
+  DANIEL GEORGE (_Jo ha a ga dah_--"Roadscraper")              Onondaga Eel
+  MARY PRINTUP (_Wah le sa loh_)                               Mohawk Snipe
+  DAN WILLIAMS
+    (_Oh geh rah u reh ru ha neh_--"Running Bear")           Tuscarora Bear
+  ELI HENRY                                                  Tuscarora Deer
+  HARRIETT PEMBLETON (_Gah do rehn tah_--"Dropping Husks") Tuscarora Turtle
+  AMOS KILLBUCK
+    (_Har wen do dyoh_--"He has forsaken early dawn")           Seneca Wolf
+  ALFRED JIMESON (_Har neh a oh_--"Hatchet in his hands")      Seneca Heron
+  WILLIAM HOAG (_O no nah_--"Very cold")                        Seneca Wolf
+  ELLEN PIERCE SHONGO (_Yea wen noh aih_--"The high word")      Seneca Wolf
+  BAPTIST THOMAS (_Sa ha whe_--"Long feather")              Onondaga Turtle
+  ALBERT CUSICK (_Sha go na qua da_--"Made them mad")          Onondaga Eel
+  THEODORE JIMESON (_Jah o yah_)                               Seneca Snipe
+  DAVID WARRIOR (_Dwen o gwah_)                          Cayuga White Heron
+  WILLETT JIMESON (_So i as ah_--"Owner of fine cornstalks")    Seneca Wolf
+  NANCY GREYSQUIRREL (_Gah gwah tah_--"One who lifts")          Seneca Bear
+  EMILY TALLCHIEF (_Gi das was_--"Wind blowing through corn") Seneca Turtle
+  LOUISE PIERCE LOGAN (_Ga yah was_--"The quivering heaven")    Seneca Wolf
+  THOMAS JONES (_Gah ne yehs_--"The dropping snow")             Seneca Wolf
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+Once our fathers own these lands of New York State. Once the Iroquois
+were great people. Their council fires burn from Hudson on east to Lake
+Erie on west, from rising to setting sun. Then White man come. He ask
+for small seat size buffalo skin. He take larger and larger one, till
+Indian have but small place to sit.
+
+Now we have little left but stories of our fathers. They, too, will soon
+be lost and forgotten, but a voice has come to speak for us. _Yeh sen
+noh wehs_--the one who tells the stories--will carry these stories of
+our fathers to Paleface. She will help White man to understand Indian,
+Indian to be understood. She will have all men brothers.
+
+Indian's heart is glad that _Yeh sen noh wehs_, our white friend, has
+come to us. She have good eyes. She see right. She like things Indian.
+She try to preserve them. Our old men and women tell her the stories
+told them, many, many moons ago, when little children.
+
+_Yeh sen noh wehs_ write down these stories so our children and our
+children's children may read and know them; and so Paleface Children may
+learn them also. Indian tell these stories to his children to make them
+good and brave and kind and unselfish. May they teach Paleface Children
+how they should do.
+
+Again we say, Indian is glad to have some one speak for him. He is glad
+to have some one write down the great and beautiful thoughts in Indian's
+mind and heart. We have spoken. _Na ho._
+
+Chief of Seneca Nation,
+
+[Illustration: handwritten signature]
+
+Chief of Onondagas,
+
+[Illustration: handwritten signature]
+
+Chief of Tuscaroras,
+
+[Illustration: handwritten signature]
+
+Chief of Oneidas,
+
+[Illustration: handwritten signature]
+
+Chief of Cayugas,
+
+[Illustration: handwritten signature]
+
+Chief of Mohawks,
+
+[Illustration: handwritten signature]
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE STORIES CAME TO BE
+
+
+Out of the moons of long ago, these stories have come. Then every tribe
+of the Iroquois had its story-teller.
+
+When the Old Man of the North came out of his lodge, and the forests and
+rivers of the Red Children grew white with his breath, these
+story-tellers wandered from wigwam to wigwam.
+
+Seated on warm skins by the fire, the story-teller would exclaim,
+"_Hanio_!" This meant, "Come, gather round, and I will tell a story."
+
+Then all the Red Children would cry, "_Heh_," and draw close to the
+fire. This meant that they were glad to hear the story. And as the
+flames leaped and chased one another along the fire trail, they would
+listen to these wonder stories of the Little People, of the trees and
+flowers, of birds, of animals, and men. When the story-teller had
+finished, he said, "_Na ho_." This meant, "It is the end."
+
+The earth was very young, when the Red Children first learned how
+everything came to be, and just why it is that things are as they are.
+They told these wonderful things to their children, and their children
+in turn told them to their children; and those children again in turn
+told them to theirs, that these things might not be forgotten.
+
+Now, but few of the Red Children know these stories that the
+grandmothers and old men of the tribe used to tell. The story-teller is
+no longer seen wandering from wigwam to wigwam.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY I WAS CALLED THE STORY-TELLER
+
+
+Some time ago the writer of these stories was asked to speak for an
+Indian Society. She accepted the invitation, and that night made her
+first Indian friends.
+
+Her new friends told her many beautiful things about the Red Children.
+The more the writer learned about the Iroquois people, and things
+Indian, the more interested she became. After a time she began to tell
+the Paleface the things she had learned.
+
+Soon, one of the tribes, the Senecas--the tribe to which her new friends
+belonged--heard that she was speaking for them. They wished to honor
+her, so they asked her to be present at their Green-Corn Feast, and
+become one of them.
+
+So when the Green-Corn moon hung her horn in the night sky, the writer
+found the trail to the Land of the Senecas. There the Senecas adopted
+her into the Snipe clan of their nation. She was called _Yeh sen noh
+wehs_--"One who carries and tells the stories."
+
+Thus it was that the writer became one of the Red Children, _Yeh sen noh
+wehs_--the Daughter of the Senecas.
+
+The more _Yeh sen noh wehs_ learned of the Red Children, and their
+simple stories, the more she loved them. One day, _Yeh sen noh wehs_
+said she would be the story-teller not only of the Senecas, but of all
+the tribes of the Iroquois. There are six great families of this people.
+Each family is called a tribe or nation.
+
+Once, the council fires of these six nations burned from the Hudson on
+the east, to Lake Erie on the west, and they were a great and powerful
+people.
+
+It was at the time of the Berry Moon that _Yeh sen noh wehs_ hit the
+story trail. Since then she has journeyed through all the lands of the
+Senecas, the Onondagas, the Cayugas, the Oneidas, the Mohawks, and the
+Tuscaroras.
+
+Like the story-teller of old, _Yeh sen noh wehs_ wandered from lodge to
+lodge of the Iroquois. "_Hanio_," she would call, and as the Indians
+gathered round, she would tell them one of the stories that other Indian
+friends had told to her.
+
+Sometimes this would remind the Red Children of another story, which
+_Yeh sen noh wehs_ did not know, and they would tell it to her. It was
+in this way that these stories have been gathered.
+
+There were many days when _Yeh sen noh wehs_ told her stories, but none
+were told in return. Few members of the tribes--these usually the
+oldest--could remember the stories "they used to tell."
+
+Sometimes _Yeh sen noh wehs_ heard a story as she trudged along a
+furrow, beside a ragged Indian who was plowing with a more
+ragged-looking team. Or she would listen as she helped an Indian woman
+prepare the evening meal, pick berries, or gather nuts.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Sometimes, as _Yeh sen noh wehs_ sat by a fire down in the depths of a
+beautiful wood, and watched the smoke of the sacred medicine rise, a
+medicine man would tell her a story; or an Indian woman would drop a
+word, as she sat at her door weaving baskets or making beadwork.
+
+These stories _Yeh sen noh wehs_ has made into a story book, that they
+might not be lost and forgotten; that all the Iroquois Red Children and
+their children's children might know and tell them, and that Paleface
+children might learn them as well.
+
+The American children have no fairies of their own. They must borrow
+their fairies from children of other nations. _Yeh sen noh wehs_ thought
+it very sad, so she put a magic feather in her cap, and winged moccasins
+on her feet. Then she went on the chase for real American wonder
+stories, and for real American fairies.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Had there not been a feather in the magic cap she wore, _Yeh sen noh
+wehs_ would not have found them. But the feather pointed the way to the
+Nature Wonder Trail, and there she caught a glimpse of the "Little
+People,"--the only true American fairies.
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE PEOPLE
+
+
+All children who live close to Mother Earth come to know and to see the
+fairies of the flowers, the woods, the rocks, and the waters.
+
+These fairies the Iroquois call the _Jo gah oh_, or "Little People,"
+because they are so small. The Little People can do wonderful things.
+Whatever they wish, they can do. They can fly through the air. They can
+dart under or through the water, into the earth and through the rocks,
+as they please, for they wear invisible moccasins and travel in winged
+canoes.
+
+Their wee babies are carried on the little mothers' backs,--just like
+the Indian's papoose. The little fathers have wonderful winged bows and
+arrows, that can shoot any distance they wish.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Little People bring good luck to the Indians. Whatever Indian boys
+and girls wish for,--if they wish hard enough, the _Jo gah oh_ will
+bring to them.
+
+It is said that there are three tribes of these Little People,--those
+that live in the rocks beside streams and lakes, those that hover near
+the flowers and plants, and those that guard the dark places under the
+earth.
+
+The rock Little People are very strong. They can uproot large trees and
+can hurl great rocks. Sometimes they dare the Indians to a test of
+strength with them. They also like to play ball with stones.
+
+The Red Children fear the Stone Throwers, as they call them. But they
+love the little folk that help the flowers to blossom, and the fruit and
+grains to grow and ripen.
+
+They remember these Little People in their Feasts of Thanksgiving, for
+do the _Jo gah oh_ not help the sweet waters of the maple to flow? Do
+they not whisper to the growing seeds and show the way to the light? Do
+they not guide the runners of the strawberries, turn the blossoms to the
+sun, and paint the berries red? They also tint the grains, and give to
+the corn its good taste.
+
+A third tribe of Little People dwell under the earth. They guard the
+sacred white buffaloes, and keep the serpent monsters that live in the
+darkness below from coming to the surface to the Red Children.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+There are trails that lead out to the sunlight, but the Little People
+guard them close, although sometimes a great serpent will find the
+trail of a spring, and will follow it and poison the waters.
+
+Often, at night, these elves of the dark come to the upper world to
+dance with the other Little People.
+
+Wherever you find a tree in a deep, dark part of the wood, around which
+no grass will grow, there you may be sure a dance ring has been formed.
+There the Little People have danced till the moon dropped out of the
+sky.
+
+[Illustration: DANCE RATTLE]
+
+
+
+
+STORY-TELLING TIME
+
+
+The old-time Indians say that long, long ago, the Little People made a
+law that stories must not be told in summer.
+
+Summer is the time for work. Bees must store their honey. Squirrels must
+gather their nuts. Men must grow their corn. Trees and plants must leaf,
+and flower, and bear their fruit.
+
+If stories were told, plants, birds, animals, and men would stop their
+work to listen. This would mean poor crops and hungry people. Animals
+would forget to grow their winter coats and lay by their winter stores.
+Birds would fail to start in time for the South.
+
+The old Indians say that the story-teller who disobeys this law of _Jo
+gah oh_ will suffer some misfortune. Winter is the time to tell the
+stories, for then the work of animals, plants, and men is done,--and the
+Little People are fast asleep.
+
+No, it is not safe to tell stories in summer. No one knows when a bird,
+or a bee, or a butterfly may be listening, and may tell the chief of the
+Little People. Should the chief of the Little People be offended, he
+might cause something dreadful to happen to the story-teller.
+
+Last summer, the writer of these stories came very near being changed
+into an animal,--or something worse,--just for telling stories. So an
+old Indian said. She does not know now how she escaped. She thinks it
+must have been because she was a White Indian. This is how it happened.
+
+It was at the time of the Harvest Moon. _Yeh sen noh wehs_ spoke for one
+of the tribes at their council house, and she told some of these wonder
+stories.
+
+All went well until the middle of the night. Then a very old Indian
+came to warn her of her danger. It seems that he had been at the council
+in the evening, and had heard the stories told, many of which he knew.
+
+He told _Yeh sen noh wehs_ he had expected to see her change into
+something else right then and there. He said he would not dare to tell a
+story. "No, no, me 'fraid, evil come!" he said.
+
+Then he wanted to know if _Yeh sen noh wehs_ was a real Indian. He had
+been told that she was a White Indian, but when he heard her tell the
+stories, he said, he thought she was a real Indian.
+
+When _Yeh sen noh wehs_ told him that she had not a drop of Indian blood
+running in her veins, he looked very solemn. At last he spoke. He told
+the interpreter to tell her,--for he spoke but a few words of
+English,--that the Great Spirit made a snake, a snake; a fox, a fox; a
+muskrat, a muskrat; a coon, a coon; a bear, a bear; an Indian, an
+Indian; a White Indian, a White Indian. Each must be snake, fox, coon,
+bear, Indian or White Indian, as long as he lived. Each must be himself.
+
+Then the old man asked what disease _Yeh sen noh wehs_ had, that made
+her go around with a feather in her hair, acting like a real Indian, if
+she were a White Indian.
+
+_Yeh sen noh wehs_ had no answer. And she does not know to this day,
+what saved her from being changed into a rabbit, a katydid, or something
+worse, by the chief of the Little People. She knows, however, that she
+is very glad she is telling the stories to you, in the WINTER time.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE IROQUOIS GIVE THANKS
+
+
+The Iroquois Red Children are a grateful people. The true Iroquois never
+rises after eating without saying, "_Niaweh_," which means, "I am
+thankful." The others reply, "_Niuh_,"--"It is well."
+
+The Red Children never pick a flower without thinking how kind the Great
+Spirit has been, to cause the flowers to grow. They like flowers, and no
+matter how poor the Indian cabin, flowers are always to be found near.
+
+When the Iroquois pick fruit, they give thanks to the Great Spirit. And
+always do they leave some, for the "little brothers of the wood."
+
+They do not try to pick every cherry or berry, or nut or apple, for
+themselves. Fruits grow for the birds and animals as well as for men,
+and the little brothers of the wood must not be forgotten. Some of
+everything that grows is left for them.
+
+[Illustration: SAP BUCKET]
+
+During the spring and summer, the Iroquois give several thanksgiving
+feasts. The first is early in the spring, at maple-sugar time. As soon
+as the sap begins to flow, the Maple Feast is called.
+
+The Indians gather about a large maple tree. A fire is lighted near,
+upon which one of their number sprinkles tobacco. As the smoke rises, a
+prayer of thanksgiving is made to the Great Spirit, for causing the
+sweet waters of the maple to flow. Then the maple trees are thanked for
+their service to men, and protection is asked for the trees during the
+coming year.
+
+When "the leaf of the dogwood is the size of a squirrel's ear," it is
+planting time. Then an Indian maid goes into the fields and scatters a
+few grains of corn, asking the aid of the Great Spirit for the harvest.
+The Indian always plants his seed with the growing moon, that it may
+grow with the moon.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The next feast is the Strawberry Feast and Dance.
+
+The strawberry is one of the best gifts of the Great Spirit to his
+children. So greatly is it prized that it is thought to grow on the Sky
+Road that leads to the Happy Hunting Ground. An Indian who has been very
+ill, near death, will say, "I almost ate strawberries."
+
+When the strawberry ripens, the Red Children are happy. They sing their
+praises to the Great Spirit and dance with joy. They remember the Little
+People who have helped to make the berries beautiful, and they have a
+song of praise and dance of thanks for them as well. Without the help of
+the Little People, the strawberries would not be so sweet and ripe.
+
+At the time of the Harvest Moon comes the last feast of the summer. This
+thanksgiving feast lasts four days. The Indians not only give thanks for
+the ripening of the corn, but for every growing thing. Therefore this
+feast is longer than the others, since it takes some time to name all
+the good gifts of the Great Spirit to the Red Children, and to give
+thanks for them all.
+
+There is a story[1] of the corn in which the Spirit of the Corn is a
+maiden, not a handsome young chief, as one of the stories claims. This
+Corn Maiden was one of three sisters, and was called _Ona tah_.
+
+[Footnote 1: _Myths and Legends of the Iroquois_, by Harriet Maxwell
+Converse.]
+
+The three sister vegetables--the corn, the bean, and the squash--were
+called the _Di o he ko_, which means "those we live on," since they are
+the life-giving vegetables.
+
+These sisters lived together on a hill and were very happy. But one day
+_Ona tah_ wandered away in search of dews for her kernels.
+
+The Evil Spirit was watching. He seized _Ona tah_, the Spirit of the
+Corn, and sent one of his monsters to blight her fields. The killing
+winds swept over the hill, and the spirits of the squash and bean fled
+before them.
+
+_Ona tah_ was held for some time a prisoner in the darkness under the
+earth, by the Evil Spirit.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+At last a sun ray found her and guided her back to her lost hilltop.
+There she found that her sisters had fled. She was alone.
+
+Then _Ona tah_ made a vow to the sun that she would never again leave
+her fields. But she sighs for her lost sisters, and mourns the blight
+that came upon her beautiful fields. For since the time when _Ona tah_
+wandered away and left her fields, the corn has not grown so tall or so
+beautiful as once it did.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A FIREMAKER AND A PEACEMAKER
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+In the olden times, tribes of Indians did not always live in one place
+as they do now. They sometimes wandered from one valley or woodland to
+another. When they came to a sheltered place, where there was pure
+running water, and where plenty of game and wood were to be found, they
+would build their lodges and light their council fires.
+
+There they might camp for one moon, or for many moons. As long as their
+arrows brought game on the hunting trails near, they would not break
+camp. But if game grew scarce, or if for any reason they did not like
+the camp ground, they would move farther on.
+
+Sometimes they would go several days' journey, before they found a
+camping place such as they liked.
+
+The first thing that was done in making a camp was to secure fire and
+light the council fire. This fire was always kept burning. It never went
+out while they remained.
+
+The Indians loved the fire. It was the gift of the Great Spirit to the
+Red Children. It kept them warm and cooked their food by day, and
+protected them by night.
+
+A line of fires was kept burning around the camp. This protected the Red
+Children from the wild animals, for all animals fear fire, and are
+charmed by it. They might prowl and howl all night long outside the fire
+ring, but never would they attempt to come within that ring. There the
+Indians could sleep in peace, guarded by the spirits of the fire.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Indian that could make fire first became a chief and leader. When it
+was decided to camp at a certain place, a signal would be given. At this
+the young braves would leap into the woods, to see which one first could
+bring back fire. Each had his own secret way of making it. Usually a
+bowstring was twisted about a fire stick, and the stick was turned
+rapidly in a groove. In a few seconds, smoke would rise from the sawdust
+that formed. After a little fanning a flame would leap forth.
+
+The Indian whose brain and hand worked swiftest and surest was the
+smartest and best man. He became a Firemaker, and was made a chief of
+the tribe. He could do something that the rest could not,--at least he
+had proved himself to be more skillful. Such a man, it was thought, had
+a better understanding of all things, and therefore could tell the rest
+of the tribe what ought to be done.
+
+He no longer was just a man who ate and slept, walked and ran. He was a
+man with a mind. He could think and could do things. So he became a
+Firemaker chief, and he helped the tribe to think and do.
+
+The Iroquois Red Children believe that there are three kinds of men:
+those that use the body only; those that use body and mind; and those
+that use body, mind, and spirit.
+
+Now it happened that sometimes an Indian grew to be so kind and so
+great, that he could not only strike the fire we see, but the fire we do
+not see,--the fire of love that burns in the hearts of people.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When an Indian could strike this kind of fire, and warm the hearts not
+only of his own tribe but of all tribes, so that they came to love one
+another, he was a great chief, a Peacemaker chief. Such a man would go
+from tribe to tribe, teaching the people how they should do, so that all
+might live in peace and plenty, like brothers.
+
+To be a Peacemaker was the highest seat an Indian could take. Few
+Indians became Peacemaker chiefs, and they were the great men of the
+tribe.
+
+Indian women also might become Peacemakers. At one time the Iroquois had
+a Peace Wigwam, where all disputes and quarrels were settled.
+
+The most beautiful, just, and fair-minded woman of all the tribes was
+chosen to sit in this wigwam. It was her duty to tend the Peace fire,
+and to see that it never went out. She also kept a pot of hominy always
+steaming over the fire.
+
+If two Indians had a dispute, it was the custom for them to run to the
+Peacemaker's wigwam. They entered from opposite sides. Inside the
+wigwam, a deerskin curtain separated them from each other.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Peacemaker would listen to the grievance of the one and then to that
+of the other. Then she would draw aside the curtain, get the enemies
+together, and settle the dispute with justice.
+
+The two would then eat of the hominy, and depart in peace,--no longer
+enemies, but friends.
+
+No nation could fight another nation without the consent of the
+Peacemaker. Because the peacewomen were wise, and just, and kind, and
+taught men to love, not fight each other, the Iroquois were for many
+years at peace.
+
+But one day, it is said, a Peacewoman proved untrue to her trust. She
+thought more of her own happiness than that of the nation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+This woman was very beautiful, and the people loved her. For some time
+she sat in the Peace Wigwam, and tended faithfully the Peace fire.
+
+One day an Oneida and a Cayuga chief fell to quarreling. They sought the
+Peace Wigwam. As they entered and saw the young Peacewoman tending the
+fire, each thought he had never seen a woman so beautiful.
+
+Into the heart of each there leaped the desire that she might tend his
+wigwam fire.
+
+The Peacemaker listened to the quarrel of the young chiefs and settled
+it justly. Then each tried to persuade her to leave the Peace fire and
+return with him to his lodge. But the Peacemaker said, "No, I must tend
+the fire, it must be kept burning." The chiefs departed with heavy
+hearts.
+
+But the Oneida chief could not forget the beautiful woman. When a moon
+had passed, he returned to the Peace Wigwam. This time he persuaded the
+Peacemaker to leave her fire and return with him to sit at his wigwam
+door.
+
+The Peace fire flickered and went out. The Iroquois again went on the
+warpath, and for many, many moons, they fought and suffered and died.
+
+
+
+
+IROQUOIS WONDER STORIES
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE WHITE MAN CAME
+
+
+Long, long before Columbus came to America, the Red Children were here.
+They were the first and only real Americans.
+
+From the Big Sea Water on the east to the Big Sea Water on the west,
+ranged these Children of the Sun, as they called themselves.
+
+Happy and free as the sunlight and air about them, they ran through wide
+forests all their own, or plied their bark canoes up and down the
+streams.
+
+Then the Indian had a dream. This was long before Columbus dreamed his
+dream of the Western World.
+
+In his dream the Indian saw a great White Bird coming out of the east.
+Its wings were stretched wide to the north and south. With great
+strength and speed, it swept toward the setting sun.
+
+In fear and wonder the Indian watched this giant White Bird appear and
+disappear. He knew its meaning, and the Indian's heart was sad.
+
+Then the White man came. From the Big Sea Water on the east he came, in
+his great white-winged canoe. With one hand pointing to the Great
+Spirit, and with the other extended to the Red man he came. He asked for
+a small seat. A seat the size of a buffalo skin would be quite large
+enough for him, he said.
+
+In the name of the Great Spirit, the Red Children greeted the White man,
+and called him "brother." They gave him the seat he asked. They gave him
+a large buffalo skin also, and showed him where he could spread it by
+their council fire.
+
+The White man took the buffalo skin. He thanked his Red brother in the
+name of the Great Spirit. Then he began to cut the skin into many, many
+small strips.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When the whole buffalo skin had been cut into narrow strips, he tied the
+strips together. They made a long cord that would reach over a long
+trail.
+
+In amazement the Indians watched the White man while he measured off a
+seat as long and as broad as this cord would reach around. The "small
+seat," the size of a buffalo skin, became a tract of land.
+
+Soon the White man asked for another seat. This time his seat took in
+the Indians' lodges and camp fire. He asked the Indians if they would
+move on a few arrow flights. This they did.
+
+Then the White man wanted another seat. Each time it took a larger skin
+for him to sit upon. This time the skin stretched so far that it covered
+a part of the Indians' hunting and fishing grounds.
+
+Again the Indians moved on. Again the White man followed. Each time his
+seat grew larger, until the Indian had a place but the size of a buffalo
+skin on which to sit.
+
+Thus it was that the White man came. Like a great White Bird that swept
+from the Big Sea Water on the east to the Big Sea Water on the west, the
+White man came; and he drove the Indian from the rising to the setting
+sun.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE EAGLE DEFENDS AMERICANS
+
+
+Many, many moons before the White man came, a little Indian boy was left
+in the woods. It was in the days when animals and men understood each
+other better than they do now.
+
+An old mother bear found the little Indian boy.
+
+She felt very sorry for him. She told the little boy not to cry, for she
+would take him home with her; she had a nice wigwam in the hollow of a
+big tree.
+
+Old Mother Bear had two cubs of her own, but she had a place between her
+great paws for a third. She took the little papoose, and she hugged him
+warm and close. She fed him as she did her own little cubs.
+
+The boy grew strong. He was very happy with his adopted mother and
+brothers. They had a warm lodge in the hollow of the great tree. As
+they grew older, Mother Bear found for them all the honey and nuts that
+they could eat.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+From sunrise to sunset, the little Indian boy played with his cub
+brothers. He did not know that he was different from them. He thought he
+was a little bear, too. All day long, the boy and the little bears
+played and had a good time. They rolled, and tumbled, and wrestled in
+the forest leaves. They chased one another up and down the bear tree.
+
+Sometimes they had a matched game of hug, for every little bear must
+learn to hug. The one who could hug the longest and the tightest won the
+game.
+
+Old Mother Bear watched her three dear children at their play. She would
+have been content and happy, but for one thing. She was afraid some harm
+would come to the boy. Never could she quite forget the bear hunters.
+Several times they had scented her tree, but the wind had thrown them
+off the trail.
+
+Once, from her bear-tree window, she had thrown out rabbit hairs as she
+saw them coming. The wind had blown the rabbit hairs toward the hunters.
+As they fell near the hunters, they had suddenly changed into rabbits
+and the hunters had given chase.
+
+At another time, Mother Bear tossed some partridge feathers to the wind
+as the hunters drew near her tree. A flock of partridges went whirring
+into the woods with a great noise, and the hunters ran after them.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But on this day, Mother Bear's heart was heavy. She knew that now the
+big bear hunters were coming. No rabbits or partridges could lead these
+hunters from the bear trail, for they had dogs with four eyes.
+(Foxhounds have a yellow spot over each eye which makes them seem
+double-eyed.) These dogs were never known to miss a bear tree. Sooner or
+later they would scent it.
+
+Mother Bear thought she might be able to save herself and her cubs. But
+what would become of the boy? She loved him too well to let the bear
+hunters kill him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Just then the porcupine, the Chief of the animals, passed by the bear
+tree. Mother Bear saw him. She put her head out the bear-tree window and
+called to him. He came and sat under the bear-tree window, and listened
+to Mother Bear's story of her fears for the boy.
+
+When she had finished, Chief Porcupine said he would call a council of
+the animals, and see if they could not save the boy.
+
+Now the Chief had a big voice. As soon as he raised his voice, even the
+animals away on the longest trails heard. They ran at once and gathered
+under the council tree. There was a loud roar, and a great flapping of
+wings, for the birds came, too.
+
+Chief Porcupine told them about the fears of Mother Bear, and of the
+danger to the boy.
+
+"Now," said the Chief, "which one of you will take the boy, and save him
+from the bear hunters?"
+
+It happened that some animals were present that were jealous of man.
+These animals had held more than one secret council, to plan how they
+could do away with him. They said he was becoming too powerful. He knew
+all they knew,--and more.
+
+The beaver did not like man, because men could build better houses than
+he.
+
+The fox said that man had stolen his cunning, and could now outwit him.
+
+The wolf and the panther objected to man, because he could conceal
+himself and spring with greater surety than they.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The raccoon said that man was more daring, and could climb higher than
+he.
+
+The deer complained that man could outrun him.
+
+So when Chief Porcupine asked who would take the boy and care for him,
+each of these animals in turn said that he would gladly do so.
+
+Mother Bear sat by and listened as each offered to care for the boy. She
+did not say anything, but she was thinking hard,--for a bear. At last
+she spoke.
+
+To the beaver she said, "You cannot take the boy; you will drown him on
+the way to your lodge."
+
+To the fox she said, "You cannot take him; you would teach him to cheat
+and steal, while pretending to be a friend; neither can the wolf or the
+panther have him, for they are counting on having something good to eat.
+
+"You, deer, lost your upper teeth for eating human flesh. And, too, you
+have no home, you are a tramp.
+
+"And you, raccoon, I cannot trust, for you would coax him to climb so
+high that he would fall and die.
+
+"No, none of you can have the boy."
+
+Now a great bird that lives in the sky had flown into the council tree,
+while the animals were speaking. But they had not seen him.
+
+When Mother Bear had spoken, this wise old eagle flew down, and said,
+"Give the boy to me, Mother Bear. No bird is so swift and strong as the
+eagle. I will protect him. On my great wings I will bear him far away
+from the bear hunters.
+
+"I will take him to the wigwam of an Indian friend, where a little
+Indian boy is wanted."
+
+Mother Bear looked into the eagle's keen eyes. She saw that he could see
+far.
+
+Then she said, "Take him, eagle, I trust him to you. I know you will
+protect the boy."
+
+The eagle spread wide his great wings. Mother Bear placed the boy on his
+back, and away they soared, far from the council woods.
+
+The eagle left the boy, as he had promised, at the door of a wigwam
+where a little Indian boy was wanted.
+
+This was the first young American to be saved by an American eagle.
+
+The boy grew to be a noble chief and a great hunter. No hunter could hit
+a bear trail so soon as he, for he knew just where and how to find the
+bear trees. But never was he known to cut down a bear tree, or to kill a
+bear.
+
+However, many were the wolf, panther, and deerskins that hung in his
+lodge. The hunter's wife sat and made warm coats from the fox and beaver
+skins which the hunter father brought in from the chase. But never was
+the hunter, his wife, or his children seen to wear a bear-skin coat.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE TURKEY BUZZARD GOT HIS SUIT
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+It was a long, long time ago, when the earth was very young. Trees and
+flowers were growing everywhere, but there were no birds. One morning
+the Great Spirit drew back the blanket from the door of his wigwam in
+the sky. He looked upon the earth and smiled, for he saw that his work
+was good.
+
+"Today," thought he, "I will make big butterflies, to fly in and out
+among the beautiful trees and flowers of the earth. They shall sing as
+they fly."
+
+Then the Great Spirit spoke, and the tree tops were full of birds,--but
+they had no feathers.
+
+All day he watched them fly and listened to their songs. But their naked
+bodies and long legs did not please him. Before the sun had set he had
+made feathered suits, of every size and color, to cover them.
+
+That night, as the birds hid their heads under their wings, the Great
+Spirit spoke to them. He told about the feathered suits he had made for
+them, and where these suits could be found.
+
+A council was called next day by the birds. They chose _Gah gah go wah_,
+the Turkey Buzzard, to get the suits. He could fly over a long trail and
+not be tired.
+
+The birds told him that if he would go, he might have the first choice
+of the suits of feathers, but he must try on no suit more than once.
+
+Turkey Buzzard promised and set out toward the setting sun. Twice the
+sun set, and three times it rose, before he found the feathered suits.
+There were many of them, and they were very beautiful. He could not make
+up his mind which one he would like best to wear.
+
+Then he remembered that he could try on each suit of feathers once. So
+he began to put them on.
+
+The feathers of the first suit were too long. They trailed on the ground
+as he walked. Neither could he fly well in them. Turkey Buzzard laid
+that suit aside.
+
+The next suit shone like gold. The feathers were a beautiful yellow.
+Turkey Buzzard put it on and strutted up and down the forest.
+
+"Oh, how handsome I am!" he said. "But I must not keep this, for if I
+did, I should shine so like the face of the Great Spirit, that all the
+other birds would see me."
+
+And he slipped off the suit of yellow feathers as quickly as possible.
+
+A third suit was of pure white feathers. Turkey Buzzard thought it
+looked very beautiful. It was a perfect fit.
+
+"But it will get dirty too soon," he said. "I will not choose this."
+
+And this, too, was laid aside.
+
+There were not enough feathers in the fourth suit. Turkey Buzzard
+shivered with cold. It was not warm enough. He would not have it.
+
+There were too many feathers, and too many pieces, in the fifth suit. It
+took too much time to put it on. Turkey Buzzard did not want that.
+
+So he went from one suit to another, trying on and taking off. Always he
+had some new fault to find. Something was wrong with each one. Nothing
+quite pleased him. No suit was just right.
+
+At last there was but one suit left. It was not pretty. It was a plain,
+dull color,--and very short of feathers at the neck and head. Turkey
+Buzzard put it on. He did not like it. It did not fit him well: it was
+cut too low in the neck. Turkey Buzzard thought it was the homeliest
+suit of all. But it was the last suit, so he kept it on.
+
+Then _Gah gah go wah_, the Turkey Buzzard, gathered up the suits and
+flew back to the bird lodge. He still wore the plain, dull-colored suit.
+
+The birds again called a council. Each was told to select a suit from
+those that _Gah gah go wah_ had brought, and put it on. This they did.
+
+Then the birds in their beautiful feathered suits began to walk and fly
+about the Turkey Buzzard, and to make fun of his plain, dull dress.
+
+But _Gah gah go wah_ held his head high. He walked proudly about among
+the birds. He looked with scorn on their beautiful suits. After a time
+he spoke.
+
+He said, "_Gah gah go wah_, the Turkey Buzzard, does not want your
+suits. He had the pick of them all. He likes his own suit best."
+
+     Adapted from Erminie Smith's _Myths of the Iroquois_.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE PARTRIDGE DRUMS
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+It was after the Great Spirit had made all the beautiful birds, that the
+Evil Spirit came along. He saw the beautiful birds and heard their
+beautiful songs. He saw that the earth people liked the birds and liked
+to hear them sing.
+
+Now the Evil Spirit did not wish people to be happy, so he said, "I will
+make a bird that will make people afraid. I will make a big bird that
+will not sing, but will make a great noise."
+
+So the Evil Spirit went to work. In a short time he had made a big bird,
+that could not sing, but could drum.
+
+The big bird flew away into the wood. That night a drumming noise was
+heard in the wood. The people were afraid. They could not sleep, because
+of the noise.
+
+In the morning, they went into the woods to search for the noise. Deep
+in the forest could still be heard that strange drumming. They followed
+it, until they came to a deep, dark place in the woods. There was a loud
+fluttering and whirring of wings, and a great bird flew out from among
+them, along the ground and over the trees.
+
+The people were afraid. They called to the Great Spirit to help them.
+
+The Great Spirit was near. He heard their cry, and went after the bird,
+for he was very angry.
+
+The Great Spirit said, "I will not have my people frightened by this
+great bird; it shall die."
+
+The big bird gave the Great Spirit a long chase. At last the Great
+Spirit came upon it. He seized it, and threw it against a large tree.
+
+As the big bird struck the tree, drops of blood flew in all directions.
+They changed into smaller birds that went whirring into the woods, just
+as the big bird had done. There they began to drum.
+
+Like the big bird, these smaller birds like to startle people. They
+flutter out from under the leaves, and with a whirring noise they fly
+far into the wood. There they perch on an old log, or a rock, and drum
+with their wings.
+
+Some of the earth people say they are drumming for their mates. But
+others still think that the birds drum to make people afraid.
+
+So this is how the Indians say the partridges came to be. This is why
+they drum, and why some of the earth children still love to hunt
+partridges.
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE INDIANS LEARNED TO HEAL
+
+
+A long, long time ago, some Indians were running along a trail that led
+to an Indian settlement. As they ran, a rabbit jumped from the bushes
+and sat before them.
+
+[Illustration: MEDICINE RATTLE]
+
+The Indians stopped, for the rabbit still sat up before them and did not
+move from the trail. They shot their arrows at him, but the arrows came
+back unstained with blood.
+
+A second time they drew their arrows. Now no rabbit was to be seen.
+Instead, an old man stood on the trail. He seemed to be weak and sick.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The old man asked them for food and a place to rest. They would not
+listen but went on to the settlement.
+
+Slowly the old man followed them, down the trail to the wigwam village.
+In front of each wigwam, he saw a skin placed on a pole. This he knew
+was the sign of the clan to which the dwellers in that wigwam belonged.
+
+First he stopped at a wigwam where a wolf skin hung. He asked to enter,
+but they would not let him. They said, "We want no sick men here."
+
+On he went toward another wigwam. Here a turtle's shell was hanging. But
+this family would not let him in.
+
+He tried a wigwam where he saw a beaver skin. He was told to move on.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Indians who lived in a wigwam where a deer skin was seen, were just
+as unkind. Nor was he permitted to enter wigwams where hung hawk, snipe,
+and heron skins.
+
+At last he came to a wigwam where a bear skin hung.
+
+"I will ask once more for a place to rest," he thought.
+
+And here a kind old woman lived. She brought food for him to eat, and
+spread soft skins for him to lie upon.
+
+The old man thanked her. He said that he was very sick. He told the
+woman what plants to gather in the wood, to make him well again.
+
+This she did, and soon he was healed.
+
+A few days later the old man was again taken sick. Again he told the
+woman what roots and leaves to gather. She did as she was told, and
+soon he was well.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Many times the old man fell sick. Each time he had a different sickness.
+Each time he told the woman what plants and herbs to find to cure him.
+Each time she remembered what she had been told.
+
+Soon this woman of the Bear clan knew more about healing than all the
+other people.
+
+One day, the old man told her that the Great Spirit had sent him to
+earth, to teach the Indian people the secrets of healing.
+
+"I came, sick and hungry, to many a wigwam door. No blanket was drawn
+aside for me to pass in. You alone lifted the blanket from your wigwam
+door and bade me enter.
+
+"You are of the Bear clan, therefore all other clans shall come to the
+Bear clan for help in sickness.
+
+"You shall teach all the clans what plants, and roots, and leaves to
+gather, that the sick may be healed.
+
+"And the Bear shall be the greatest and strongest of the clans."
+
+The Indian woman lifted her face to the Great Spirit to thank him for
+this great gift and knowledge of healing. When she turned again to the
+man, he had disappeared.
+
+No one was there, but a rabbit was running swiftly down the trail.
+
+[Illustration: MEDICINE MASK]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY DOGS CHASE FOXES
+
+
+A fox was running through the wood near a river. He had a fish in his
+mouth.
+
+The fish had been stolen from an Indian who lived down the stream. The
+fox had been passing near the Indian's wigwam. He saw the fish hanging
+by the fire. It was cleaned and ready to cook.
+
+"What a tasty breakfast!" thought the fox. "I think I will watch the man
+eat."
+
+Soon the Indian went into the wigwam. The fox slipped up to the fire. He
+seized the fish, and ran away with it.
+
+When the Indian came back, he had no breakfast. The fish was gone. No
+fox was to be seen.
+
+The fox ran along, feeling much pleased with himself.
+
+"What a cunning fox I am," he chuckled. "I will play another foxy trick.
+This time it shall be on the bear I see coming."
+
+He ran up a tree that had been bent half way to earth by the West Wind.
+There he began to eat his fish. He smacked his lips so loudly that the
+bear heard him.
+
+The bear stopped under the tree, and asked, "What are you eating that
+tastes so good?"
+
+For answer the fox threw down a bit of the fish. The bear smacked his
+lips and cried, "More! More!"
+
+"Go to the river, swim out to the big log, and catch your own fish,"
+called the fox. "It's very easy! Just drop your tail into the water.
+Hold it there till a fish comes along and bites, then pull it up. That
+is the way I catch my fish. You can catch all the fish you want with
+your own tail."
+
+The bear hurried on to the river. He swam to the log and dropped his
+tail into the water, as the fox had advised.
+
+All day he sat and fished with his tail,--for bears then had very long
+tails.
+
+The sun set, but no fish had pulled his tail. All night the bear sat on
+the log and fished. Cold North Wind blew his breath over the water. The
+river grew still and white.
+
+Towards morning, the bear felt that his tail was getting very heavy. Now
+at last he was sure he had a fish. He tried to pull it up. But alas! his
+tail was frozen fast in the ice.
+
+Then the fox came along. He laughed long and loudly at the bear, and
+asked if the fishing was good.
+
+Some dogs heard the fox, and came tearing through the thick underbrush.
+They saw the fox and started after him.
+
+The fox slyly led them on to the frozen river toward the bear. The bear
+saw them coming, and called to the fox to go around some other way. The
+fox made believe he did not hear, and came straight on to the bear to
+ask him what he had said.
+
+The dogs leaped upon the bear. The bear struggled. He gave one great
+pull, and freed himself from the ice. He struck at the dogs so fiercely
+with his great paws, that they soon left him, and went on after the fox.
+
+Dogs have been running after foxes ever since.
+
+When the bear got his breath, he stood up and looked around at his tail.
+He found he had only a small piece left. Most of his tail had been left
+in the ice.
+
+This is why bears have short tails, and why dogs still love to chase the
+fox.
+
+
+
+
+WHY HERMIT THRUSH IS SO SHY
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Some moons after the council when the birds chose their feathered suits,
+a second council was called. The purpose of this council was to see
+which bird could fly to heaven, and bring a song to earth.
+
+When all the birds had arrived and were perched upon the council tree,
+the wise old owl spoke.
+
+"Friends and brothers, listen," said the owl. "Many of you have strong
+wings, but your voices are not beautiful. High, high up in the sky, a
+long trail beyond the clouds, is the Happy Hunting Ground.
+
+"There live all our brothers of the wood, whom the Great Spirit has
+called. They sing songs more beautiful than any heard on earth.
+
+"The bird that can fly beyond the clouds will hear that singing. He
+shall bring a song to earth. Who will fly the Great Sky Trail, and bring
+a song to earth? Who-whoo! Who-whoo! Who-whoo!"
+
+At this, all the birds that were swift of wing flew high in the air.
+They circled round and round to show their skill. Then they disappeared
+in the clouds.
+
+But one by one they dropped to earth; for when they had reached the
+Great Sky Trail beyond the clouds, they were too tired to take it.
+
+At last the eagle arose and stretched his great wings.
+
+"Listen," he said, "for the Chief of Birds speaks. No other bird is so
+swift and so strong as the eagle. He has circled the earth. He has flown
+to the rim of the world. The eagle will fly the Great Sky Trail and
+bring the song to earth."
+
+A little brown thrush sat near the eagle.
+
+"Oh," he thought, "how I would like to bring that song to earth!"
+
+But he was so small, and his wings were so tired!
+
+Then an idea popped into the little brown head of the thrush. He hopped
+softly to the back of the eagle, and hid in the thick feathers near the
+neck. So small and light was the thrush, that the eagle did not feel his
+weight. He did not know that the little brown thrush was on his
+back,--and the other birds did not tell him.
+
+The eagle spread his great wings. Up, and up, and up, they soared. The
+council wood became a little speck and then was seen no more. Over, and
+under, and through the clouds, on, and on, and on, they sailed, along
+the Great Sky Trail.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+At last the eagle's strength began to fail. He could go no further. The
+great wings of the chief of birds could beat the air no longer. They
+fell at his side.
+
+The little brown thrush felt the eagle quiver and begin to drop toward
+the earth.
+
+Then away flew the little brown thrush. The air was so light it seemed
+easy to fly. On and on he went, for he was not tired. He had had a ride
+almost to heaven.
+
+"Now," he thought, "I will go on and will get the song."
+
+For some time, the little brown thrush flew along the Great Sky Trail.
+All at once the air seemed full of song. He knew he was nearing the
+Happy Hunting Ground.
+
+He listened. One song seemed more beautiful to him than the rest. Again
+and again he listened. He caught the notes. He sang them many times,
+until he was sure that he could carry the song to earth.
+
+Then down, and down, and down, he floated, through clouds and storms and
+sunshine, back to Mother Earth.
+
+Very happy, he flew toward the council wood. He was so full of his
+beautiful song and the wonderful Sky Trail, he thought he must pour out
+his song at once.
+
+But when he reached the council wood, he dared not open his mouth! He
+remembered that he had stolen his ride part way to heaven,--and he knew
+the other birds knew it.
+
+But that song! he must sing it! He thought his throat would burst, if he
+did not sing!
+
+So the little brown thrush flew off by himself, into a deep, dark part
+of the wood. There, hidden by the brush and the bushes, he poured forth
+the song he had heard on the Great Sky Trail.
+
+Men hearing it to-day, say, "Listen, a hermit thrush! What a beautiful
+song! But he is such a shy bird, one seldom can catch a glimpse of him."
+
+They do not know why he keeps so close under cover.
+
+
+
+
+HOW GOOD AND EVIL CAME TO BE
+
+
+Every boy has wondered how there came to be two of him.
+
+Every girl has puzzled over how she happened to be twins. Sometimes she
+is the good girl,--sometimes a naughty one.
+
+The Indians say this is how it happened.
+
+The world was very young. There was no earth, only a cloud-like sea.
+
+The sea was filled with water animals, and water birds flew over it. All
+was dark. Light had not yet come.
+
+Then the cloud-sea began to call for light. The Great Spirit heard, and
+said, "It shall be so. I will make a new place for man to live in."
+
+The Great Spirit called the beautiful Sky Mother to Him. Her face was
+like the sun, she was so light of heart.
+
+The Great Spirit told the Sky Mother to look down. She, too, heard the
+cloud-sea calling, and she said, "I will go."
+
+As she began to descend, the animals saw her coming. "See the light,"
+they cried. "Where will it rest?"
+
+One of the water animals said, "I will go to the bottom of the sea and
+get something for it to rest on."
+
+He went down, but he never came back.
+
+Other animals followed him. But they, too, did not come back.
+
+Then the muskrat said, "I will go. I will be the earth bringer."
+
+He returned, with some mud in his mouth and claws.
+
+"It will grow fast," he cried, in a weak voice. "Who will carry it?"
+
+The turtle offered his back. As the muskrat placed the mud on the
+turtle's shell he died. But the beaver came and slapped the mud down
+with his tail.
+
+The mud on the turtle's back grew very fast. Soon it was a small island.
+The turtle became the earth bearer. He has continued to hold up the
+earth ever since.
+
+Now, when the sea rises in great waves, or the earth shakes, the Indians
+say, "The turtle is stretching. He is wiggling his back!"
+
+Now, since there was a place for the light to rest on, the birds flew up
+to meet it. They found that the light was the beautiful Sky Mother.
+
+Then the birds spread wide their great wings, and bore the Sky Mother
+through the air to the cloud-sea. They placed her on the island on the
+turtle's back. There the Sky Mother had rested some time, when she felt
+something stirring beneath her heart. She heard voices. One was soft and
+kind and full of love, the other was harsh and quarrelsome.
+
+Soon the Sky Mother looked into the faces of the first-born of earth,
+for she had borne the twin brothers, the spirits of Good and Evil. As
+she looked into the face of the Good Mind, she said, "You shall be
+called the Light One."
+
+Then she looked into the face of his brother, and said, "You shall be
+named the Dark One."
+
+The island became a beautiful land.
+
+The twin brother Light One grew up happy, loving, peaceful, and kind. He
+wanted to make the new land the most beautiful place in which to live.
+The twin brother Dark One grew up sullen, quarrelsome, hateful, and
+unkind. He tried to make the land the worst place in which to live.
+
+From his mother's beautiful face the Light One made the sun. He set it
+in the eastern sky, that it might shine forever. Then the Dark One put
+darkness in the west to drive the sun from the sky.
+
+The Light One gave his mother's body to the earth, the Great Mother from
+which springs all life. He made great mountains, and covered them with
+forests from which beautiful rivers ran. The Dark One threw down the
+mountains, gnarled the forests, and bent the rivers which his brother
+had made.
+
+Every beautiful thing which the good brother Light One made, the bad
+brother Dark One tried to destroy and ruin.
+
+And because the first-born of earth were the twin spirits, the Good Mind
+and the Evil Mind, there has been a good and bad spirit born into every
+boy and girl who has come into the world since.
+
+So the Indians say!
+
+
+
+
+HOW A BOY WAS CURED OF BOASTING
+
+
+There was once an Indian boy, who thought he knew more and could do more
+than anyone else. He was so proud of himself that he walked around like
+a great chief, who wears a war shirt with many scalp locks on it.
+
+The other Indian boys and girls called him Spread Feather, because he
+strutted about like a big turkey or a peacock.
+
+One day, Spread Feather was playing ball with the other boys. Not once
+had he failed to drive or catch the ball with his crosse stick. Twice he
+had thrown the ball with such force that some one had been hurt.
+
+Spread Feather grew more and more pleased with himself, as he played. He
+began to use tricks and to talk very large.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"No one can play ball as I," he said. "I can catch the swiftest ball
+that can be thrown. I can throw the ball to the sky. I can run faster
+than the deer."
+
+Spread Feather boasted so loudly that a rabbit heard him. The rabbit
+came out of the bushes and sat up on his hind legs. He watched Spread
+Feather play, and listened to his boasting.
+
+Soon a strange boy was standing where the rabbit had sat.
+
+The stranger said to Spread Feather, "I would like to play ball with
+you."
+
+"Come on, then!" taunted the boastful boy. "Spread Feather will show the
+strange ball player how to catch a ball."
+
+They began to play.
+
+The stranger could run like a deer. His balls were so swift and so
+curved that Spread Feather could not see them. He could not catch one.
+They seemed to come from the sky.
+
+At last one ball hit Spread Feather on the mouth. He fell to the ground.
+His face was red with anger, and his lips were red with blood.
+
+He sprang to his feet and shouted to the stranger, "Though I do not like
+the taste of your ball, yet I can throw you."
+
+"Very well, then," said the stranger. "We will have a game of 'Catch as
+catch can.'" This is the Indian name for a game of wrestling.
+
+Spread Feather set his feet very hard on the ground.
+
+"My legs are as strong as the legs of a bear," he boasted.
+
+They began to wrestle. Soon Spread Feather's arms fell at his sides. He
+panted for air. He had no breath and no strength.
+
+The stranger picked Spread Feather up and tossed him over his head like
+a ball. The boy fell without a word.
+
+When Spread Feather opened his eyes, a rabbit sprang into the bushes.
+
+All night, Spread Feather lay and thought, and thought. He was too weak
+and too sore to go back to his wigwam. Nor was he eager to meet the
+other boys.
+
+At sunrise a rabbit hopped near. The rabbit slyly suggested that he
+might like to play another game of ball.
+
+The boy sat up and said to the rabbit, "Spread Feather is no more. He no
+longer struts like a turkey. He has nothing to say. He will win a new
+name. It will not be Spread Feather."
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE CUCKOO IS SO LAZY
+
+
+The land was lean and hungry. The Old Man of the North Lodge had
+breathed upon the valley. His breath had frozen the corn, and there was
+no bread for the people.
+
+The Indian hunters took to the chase. They followed every track of deer
+or rabbit. If their arrows brought them meat, they threw it over their
+shoulders and ran to the village, that the hungry women and children
+might eat.
+
+But one Indian remained in his wigwam. He sat by the fire with his wife
+and child, and waited for the hunters to bring game.
+
+This man refused to go on the hunt. He was lazy. All day he sat by the
+fire and smoked his pipe. Once in a while, he would stir the water in
+the kettle which he kept boiling for the meat that he hoped the hunters
+might bring. Whenever the child, his little son, begged him for food, he
+would say, "It isn't done yet."
+
+At last the little Indian boy grew so sick and faint for want of food
+that he cried aloud.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The lazy Indian father was angry. He seized the pudding stick, and
+struck the child to the ground. Instantly a bird flew up and perched on
+the pole over the fire, from which the kettle hung.
+
+"Now it's done!" said the bird solemnly, for it did not seem to have a
+light heart like other birds.
+
+Now, strange as it may seem this father was no longer cruel and lazy.
+His lazy spirit seemed to have gone. He wanted to go at once on the
+chase, and hunt food for his wife and little boy.
+
+"To-night you shall have deer meat to eat," he said, as he spread a soft
+skin by the fire, for the boy to lie on. Then he turned to place the
+child on the skin,--but no boy was there. He had no son. Only that
+strange bird perched, joyless and alone, over the fire, on the pole from
+which the kettle hung.
+
+"Now it's done!" the bird cried again, and with that it flew out of the
+wigwam.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That spring the Indians discovered a new bird in the woods. The bird was
+too lazy to build a real nest.
+
+This bird did not weave together twigs and moss, leaves and ferns, bits
+of hair and thistledown, to make a cozy, warm, safe nest for its eggs
+and young, as did the other birds. This bird would lay its eggs
+anywhere. Wherever a few sticks lay crosswise in a track, or in a little
+hollow of the ground, or where some twigs or dried ferns were caught
+loosely in a bush, there this lazy bird would lay its eggs and rear its
+young.
+
+It was too lazy to build a real nest, that was safe and warm for its
+little ones.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Indians called the bird "the cuckoo." But only one Indian knew how
+the cuckoo came to be, and why it is too lazy to build a real nest.
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE COON OUTWITTED THE FOX
+
+
+A wise old raccoon sat up in a tree near the river where the bear lost
+his tail. The coon saw the fox play his foxy trick on the bear, and he
+did not like it.
+
+"The fox is getting a big head," said the coon. "This must not be. His
+head must be made smaller. Some of the foxiness must be taken out of it.
+He is getting too foxy. He thinks he has the cunning of all the animals,
+and that no one can outwit him. Some one must play a 'fox' trick on
+him."
+
+Not many days later, the coon saw the fox coming down the trail. The
+coon was eating some juicy yellow apples that he had found on a tree not
+far away. As soon as he saw the fox, he ran up a tree, and began to
+smack his lips as the fox had done to tempt the bear.
+
+The fox stopped under the tree, just as the bear had stopped.
+
+"What tastes so good?" he asked.
+
+For answer the coon threw down an apple to the fox, just as the fox had
+thrown the piece of fish down to the bear.
+
+The fox took the apple and ate it.
+
+"Fine! Fine!" said the fox, when he had finished the last mouthful.
+"Where did you get it?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The coon then told the fox how to find the apple tree. He must follow
+the trail along the river, down to the pine bluff. Then he must climb
+the bluff and run toward the setting sun, until he came to an open
+field. In the center of that field stood a great apple tree. It was
+filled with juicy yellow apples.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"But you can climb the tree and pick your own apples. How can I get them
+off the tree?" whined the fox.
+
+"Oh, that's easy," said the coon. "Just back off two bow shots from the
+tree, then lower your head,--so. Run hard and butt the tree with your
+head. You have such a big head, it will shake the tree so hard that all
+the apples will fall at once. Do as I tell you, and you will have all
+the apples you want for a long time."
+
+The fox thanked the coon and started at once.
+
+He found the apple tree, just as the coon had said.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"What a fine open place to run in," thought the fox. "I will get such a
+fine start that when I hit the tree it will shake the world."
+
+Already he began, in his mind, to see the apples falling, like pine
+needles, and to feel the earth shake under his feet.
+
+The fox did as the coon had told him. One arrow flight he backed off,
+then another. Then he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and ran swiftly
+over the thick grass. He struck the tree as hard as ever he could, with
+his big head.
+
+Not an apple fell, but a dazed, foolish-looking fox fell to the ground.
+
+Next morning as the sun rose, a shame-faced fox was seen running toward
+the woods beyond the pine bluff. He carried his head low, and he seemed
+to be playing no foxy tricks.
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE GOLDFINCHES LOOK LIKE THE SUN
+
+
+It was some moons after the coon outwitted the fox, before they again
+met. The coon was hurrying by, when the fox saw him.
+
+Now the fox had not forgotten the trick the coon had played on him. His
+head was still sore from that great thump against the apple tree. So the
+fox started after the coon. He was gaining, and would have caught him,
+had they not come to a tall pine tree.
+
+The coon ran to the very tiptop of the pine tree. There he was safe, for
+the fox could not climb.
+
+The fox lay down on the soft pine needles and waited for the coon to
+come down. The coon stayed up in the pine tree so long that the fox grew
+tired and sleepy. He closed his eyes and thought he would take a short
+nap.
+
+The coon watched, until he saw that the fox was sound asleep. Then he
+took in his mouth some of the pitch from the pine tree. He ran down the
+tree and rubbed the pitch over the eyes of the sleeping fox.
+
+The fox awoke. He sprang up and tried to seize the coon, but, alas! he
+could not see what he was doing. The lids of his eyes were held fast
+with the pine gum. He could not open them.
+
+The coon laughed at the fox's plight, then ran and left him.
+
+The fox lay for some time under the tree. The pine gum, as it dried,
+held the lids of his eyes closer and closer shut. He thought he should
+never again see the sun.
+
+Some birds were singing near by. He called them, and told them of his
+plight. He asked if they would be so kind as to pick open his eyes.
+
+The birds flew off and told the other birds. Soon many of the little
+dark songsters flew back to where the fox lay. Then peck, peck, peck,
+went the little bills on the eyelids of the fox. Bit by bit they
+carefully pecked away the pine gum. If one grew tired, another bird
+would take its place.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+At last the fox saw a streak of light. Soon the lid of one eye flew
+open, then the other. The sun was shining, and the world looked very
+beautiful to the fox, as he opened his eyes.
+
+He was very grateful to the little birds for bringing him light. He told
+them to ask what they would, and he would give it to them.
+
+The little birds said, "We do not like the plain, dark suits which the
+Turkey Buzzard brought us. Make us look like the sun we have brought to
+you."
+
+The fox looked about him. Beautiful yellow flowers were growing near. He
+pressed some of the sun color from them, and with the tip of his tail as
+a brush, he began to paint the dark little birds like the sun.
+
+The birds fluttered so with joy, he thought he would paint the bodies
+first. Before he could brush the wings and tails with the sun paint,
+each little bird had darted away, like a streak of sunshine. So happy
+and light of heart were the birds, that they could not wait for the fox
+to finish the painting.
+
+This is why goldfinches are yellow like the sun. It is why they have
+black wings and tails, why they flutter so with joy, and why they never
+finish their song.
+
+
+
+
+WHAT THE ASH AND THE MAPLE LEARNED
+
+
+Long ago, birds, trees, animals, and men knew each the language of the
+other, and all could talk together.
+
+In those days, the trees of the forest grew very large and strong. At
+last they came to know their strength too well. They became selfish, and
+proud, and quarrelsome. Each tree boasted that he was the greatest and
+strongest. Each one struggled to gain for himself the most earth, the
+best air, the brightest sun. No tree had a thought for the other.
+
+One day the trunk of a great Maple tried to crowd out an Ash. The Ash,
+of course, thought he had as much right to stand there as the Maple, and
+he said he would not stir a limb.
+
+"Get out of my way," cried the Maple. "I am greater than you, and of
+more use to man; for I furnish the sweet water for him to drink."
+
+"Indeed, I will not!" said the Ash. "I am greater than you, and of more
+use to man than you; for I furnish the tough wood from which he makes
+his bow."
+
+At this the trees fell to wrestling. Back and forth, in and out they
+swayed, each trying to throw the other. They forgot that they were
+brothers in the wood.
+
+Then the South Wind came along. He heard the loud voices and stopped to
+find out what the quarrel was about.
+
+"I am greater than you, for I furnish the sweet water for man to drink,"
+came the angry voice of the Maple, as he threw his huge trunk against
+the Ash.
+
+"No, you are not," retorted the Ash, and he sent the Maple back with a
+great push of his strong elbow. "I am greater than you, for I furnish
+the tough wood from which he makes his bow."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+For a time, the South Wind watched them writhe and twist and try to
+throw each other to the ground. Then he said, softly, "You, O Maple, do
+not cause the sweet water to flow for man; nor do you, O Ash, make your
+wood to grow pliant and tough for his bow."
+
+"Who does, then?" they asked defiantly.
+
+"Listen," said the South Wind, "and you shall hear."
+
+Then the Maple and Ash forgot their quarrel. They bent their heads so
+low and close to listen, that an arm of the Maple slipped through an arm
+of the Ash.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+And as they stood thus listening, each with an arm locked in an arm of
+the other, the South Wind gently swayed them to and fro. Then a voice
+was heard, singing, "_San noh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!_" which
+means, "The Mother of all things."
+
+Thus it was that the Ash and the Maple learned that it was Mother Earth
+who gave them their life, and power, and strength, and that they were
+brothers, because they had one Mother.
+
+The Ash and the Maple whispered the secret to the birds. The birds came
+and listened to the voice, and went and told the animals. The animals
+came and listened, and went and told men. And thus all the earth
+children learned that there is one Great Mother of every living thing,
+and that all are brothers.
+
+And now, whenever two trees lock arms lovingly, and the South Wind sways
+them gently to and fro, that same voice may be heard, singing, "_San
+noh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!_"
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE WOMAN OVERCAME THE BEAR
+
+
+An Indian woman built a wigwam in the deep wood. She was a brave woman.
+She had no fear.
+
+One night, she heard something coming along the trail. Thump, thump,
+thump, it came, to the very door of her wigwam.
+
+There was a rap.
+
+"Come in," said the woman, but no one entered.
+
+Again there came a rap.
+
+Again the woman called, "Come in." Again the latch was not lifted.
+
+A third time the rap came. A third time the woman called, "Come in," but
+no one entered.
+
+Then the strange thump, thump, thump, was heard going down the trail.
+
+The next night, the same thing occurred. Soon after dark, the woman
+heard the thump, thump, thump, coming along the trail. Up to the very
+door of the wigwam it came.
+
+Three times, a rap, rap, rap, was heard as before. Three times the woman
+answered, "Come in," but no one entered.
+
+Then the same strange thump, thump, thump, was heard going down the
+trail again.
+
+The third night, the woman thought she would make sure who was calling.
+She stood for a long time, with her hand on the latch.
+
+At last she heard the visitor coming. Thump, thump, thump, it came along
+the trail. There were three raps.
+
+"Come in," called the woman, but the latch did not move in her hand. She
+waited. Again came the raps.
+
+This time she threw wide open the door, and there stood a great black
+bear. He showed his sharp teeth and growled, "Are you at home?"
+
+The woman looked him straight in the eye and replied, "I am at home."
+
+At once the bear turned on his heel and went down the trail, as fast as
+he could go.
+
+Never again did the woman hear that strange thump, thump, thump; and
+never again did the bear call to see if she were at home.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE WOODPECKER BORES FOR ITS FOOD
+
+
+Once upon a time, the Great Spirit left the Happy Hunting Ground and
+came to earth. He took the form of a poor, hungry man. He went from
+wigwam to wigwam, asking for food.
+
+Sometimes he found the Indians sitting around the fire, telling stories
+and talking of the Great Spirit. Then the man would pass by unseen.
+
+One day, he came to a wigwam in which a woman was baking cakes.
+
+"I am very hungry," the man said. "Will you please give me a cake?"
+
+The woman looked at the man, and then at the cake. She saw that it was
+too large to give away.
+
+She said, "I will not give you this cake, but I will bake you one, if
+you will wait."
+
+The hungry man said, "I will wait."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then the woman took a small piece of dough and made it into a cake and
+baked it. But when she took this cake from the coals, it was larger than
+the first.
+
+Again the woman looked at her cake. Again she saw it was too large to
+give away. Again she said, "I will not give you this one, but I will
+bake you one, if you will wait."
+
+Again the man said, "I will wait."
+
+This time the woman took a very, very, tiny bit of dough, and made it
+into a cake.
+
+"Surely, this will be small enough to give away," she thought, yet when
+baked it was larger than both the others.
+
+The woman stood and looked at the three cakes. Each was too large to
+give away.
+
+"I will not give you any of the cakes," she said to the man. "Go to the
+woods, and find your food in the bark of trees."
+
+Then the man stood up and threw off his ragged blanket and worn
+moccasins. His face shone like the sun, and he was very beautiful. The
+woman shrank into the shadow of the wigwam. She could not look upon his
+face, for the light.
+
+"I am the Great Spirit," said he, "and you are a selfish woman. Women
+should be kind, and generous, and unselfish. You shall no longer be a
+woman and live in a warm wigwam, with plenty of cakes to bake. _You_
+shall go to the forest and hunt _your_ food in the bark of trees. Summer
+and winter, you shall eat worms of the same size as the cake you would
+have made for me."
+
+The woman began to grow smaller and smaller. Feathers grew upon her
+body, and wings sprang from it. The Great Spirit touched her head, and
+it became red.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Always shall you wear this red hood," he said, "as a mark of your
+shame. Always shall you hide from man. Always shall you hunt for little
+worms, the size of the cake you made for me."
+
+At this a sharp cry was heard, and a bird flew into the fireplace of the
+wigwam, and up the chimney. As it passed out of the chimney, the soot
+left those long streaks of black which we see now on the woodpecker's
+back.
+
+Ever since then, this woodpecker has had a red head, and has been hiding
+from man on the farther side of the tree trunk, and boring in the bark
+for _little_ worms.
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE ICE ROOF FELL
+
+
+A great many winters ago, there lived at the foot of a certain lake a
+tribe of wicked Indians. These Indians were so fierce, and warlike, and
+wasteful, they went about destroying everything.
+
+They laid low a tract of beautiful forest trees, for no good purpose.
+They tore up shrubs and plants that gave them food and medicine. They
+shot their arrows into every bird or animal they saw, just for sport.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The great trees--their silent brothers of the wood--trembled and sighed
+when they heard these Indians coming. The squirrels darted into hollow
+trees, and birds flew in alarm at their footsteps. The deer and rabbit
+ran from the trail.
+
+At last the Great Spirit became very angry with this tribe. Always he
+had taught the Indians never to kill an animal, unless for food and
+protection; never to fell a tree, unless for fuel or shelter; never to
+dig up shrubs or plants, unless for some good use.
+
+"All life," the Great Spirit had said, "is sacred and beautiful. It must
+not be wasted."
+
+And never before had he known the Indians to waste the beautiful living
+things about them. The Great Spirit was very sad.
+
+The ice formed very thick on the lake that winter.
+
+One night, there came a great storm of wind and rain. The ice broke
+loose from the shores, and the wind blew it down the lake. At the foot
+of the lake, a mass of ice was piled high over the shore, where lived
+these wasteful Indians.
+
+Like a giant roof, the ice spread over the little Indian village lying
+there asleep, but the Indians did not know. They slept on, unaware of
+their danger, for a deep, heavy sleep had come upon them.
+
+Just as the sun rose, the ice roof gave way and fell upon the sleeping
+Indians, crushing them in their wigwams.
+
+The waste they had brought upon their brothers of the wood had brought
+punishment upon them. The Great Spirit had destroyed these wicked
+Indians, that the good Indians might keep his world beautiful.
+
+Ever after, as long as the Indians occupied the country, before the
+White man came, no trees were felled, and no animals or birds were
+killed, unless for some wise and useful purpose.
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE CHIPMUNK HAS BLACK STRIPES
+
+
+At one time, the animals had tribes and chiefs, like men. It was when
+the porcupine was chief, that a council was called.
+
+A great fire was lighted, for it was night. When all the animals were
+seated around the fire, the porcupine spoke.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Friends," he said, "we have met here to settle a great question: 'Shall
+we have night all the time, or day?'" At this, all the animals began to
+talk at once. There was great confusion. The night animals kept
+shouting, "Night, night! Always night!" Others of the animals cried,
+"Day, day! Always day!" Still others called for "Day and night!"
+
+There was so much noise that it could not be decided what was best.
+
+At last the animals grew tired of calling. One by one the voices grew
+fainter, and the shouting ceased. Of the night animals, the voice of the
+bear alone was heard. He had a big voice and still kept calling, "Night,
+night! Always night!"
+
+The animals who wanted day all the time, and those who wanted day and
+night, also became quiet,--all except the chipmunk. He chattered on, "We
+will have light--and then night. We will have light--and then night.
+Chee, chee, chee!"
+
+Then the bear, too, became tired. He was fat and lazy, and so sleepy! He
+thought he would take a short nap.
+
+But all night long the wide-awake little chipmunk kept up his song. Not
+for a moment did he stop to rest. Out of the dark came his voice, sure
+and cheery, "We will have light--and then night. We will have
+light--and then night! Chee, chee, chee!"
+
+And before the animals knew it, the sun began to rise.
+
+At the first rays of light, the bear sat up, blinked, and rubbed his
+eyes. He saw that while he had slept, light had indeed come. He knew
+that he and the night animals had been beaten in the council, and that
+the chipmunk and the animals who wanted day and night had won.
+
+The bear was very angry. He struck at the chipmunk with his paw. But he
+was clumsy, and the chipmunk was spry!
+
+The chipmunk laughed and sprang into a hole of a hollow tree near by.
+But those black stripes on the chipmunk's back show where the paw of the
+black bear touched him as he slipped into the tree.
+
+Ever since this council, and the little chipmunk called so long and loud
+for "light and night," we have had day and night.
+
+
+
+
+HOW TWO INDIAN BOYS SETTLED A QUARREL
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow were two little Indian boys. They
+lived by Singing River, and they played from sunrise to sunset. They
+were as happy as the day was long.
+
+In the summer, they fished and swam in Singing River, and they shot
+their arrows into chipmunk and woodpecker holes. Sometimes they played
+"Dodging Arrows," a game their mother had taught them when they were
+very young.
+
+In the winter, they jumped into fleecy snowdrifts and rolled until their
+little bronze bodies took on a red-raspberry tint. Then they would send
+their snow-snakes skimming over the hard crust of snow.
+
+Snow-snakes were small rods of wood, polished smooth with resin, oil, or
+wax. They could be thrown long distances. Long Moose--Lightning Bow and
+Flying Squirrel's father--could throw a snow-snake a mile and a half,
+over the crust of the snow. But the snow-snakes he used were eight feet
+long and tipped with lead.
+
+It was the Moon of Berries. Six times had Flying Squirrel and Lightning
+Bow seen the Berry Moon hang her horn in the night sky. And not once in
+all their lives had they quarreled.
+
+One morning, Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow planned a foot race.
+Seven times they were to run. Three times, Flying Squirrel had made the
+goal first. Three times, Lightning Bow had outrun him. The seventh race
+was claimed by each. No one saw them run, so no one could decide the
+game. And they fell to quarreling.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Louder and louder their voices were raised. More and more angry they
+grew.
+
+White Fawn, their mother, was baking corn bread on the coals of the
+wigwam fire. The angry voices reached her ears. She stepped to the door.
+
+"For shame!" she called. "Go and set up your sticks."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then she showed Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel how to set up three
+sticks so they would stand for many days.
+
+"Now go into the wood, set up your sticks, and leave your quarrel
+there," she said. "When the Berry Moon has passed, you shall return and
+see if the sticks are still standing.
+
+"If they lean toward the rising sun, Lightning Bow was right. If they
+lean toward the setting sun, Flying Squirrel won. If they have fallen
+down, neither was right and neither won."
+
+Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel went into the wood and set up their
+sticks. Then they began to throw balls with willow wands, and soon they
+were happy again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The sun had risen and set many times. The Berry Moon had passed. It was
+the Thunder Moon, when White Fawn said to Lightning Bow and Flying
+Squirrel, "Today you may go into the wood and see if your sticks are
+still standing."
+
+Hand in hand, the two little Indian boys ran into the wood. They found
+only a heap of rotting sticks.
+
+Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow stood and looked at the sticks. They
+thought and thought.
+
+"What did we set up the sticks for?" each asked of the other.
+
+And for the life of them they could not remember what they had quarreled
+about, and why they had set up the sticks!
+
+
+
+
+HOW MICE OVERCAME THE WARRIORS
+
+
+Once a tribe of the Iroquois became very warlike and cruel. They liked
+to follow the warpath rather than the hunting trails.
+
+These warriors thought only of the war dance. They forgot to give thanks
+for the sweet waters of the maple, and for the planting season. Neither
+did they remember to praise the Great Spirit, in song and dance, for the
+juicy strawberries, and the waving green corn, as once they had done.
+
+To fight was the one desire of their lives, the one thought that filled
+their minds. They boasted that none were so fierce and bloodthirsty as
+they.
+
+"Our arrows fall like leaves of the pine," they said, "and always are
+they red with blood. Our war shirts have many scalp locks on them."
+
+One day, a dispute arose with a neighboring tribe of their nation. The
+Peace Wigwam was not far away, but these warriors would not take their
+quarrel to it, as was the custom. The fighting Indians would have none
+of the Peace Wigwam.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Let the women and papooses sit in the sun at the door of the Peace
+Wigwam," they said scornfully. "Chiefs are for the warpath."
+
+A fierce cry was raised, and the war dance was begun. The chiefs painted
+their bodies, donned their war shirts, sharpened their tomahawks, tipped
+their arrows, and tightened their bowstrings.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But by the time they had made ready, the sun had set, and the blanket of
+darkness had fallen upon them. A council was quickly called. It was
+decided that they would not start to war until moonrise. So the warriors
+lay down to sleep.
+
+As they slept, another council was called. This was not a council of
+men, but of mice.
+
+From long and short trails they came, hundreds and hundreds of mice, for
+all had heard the warriors boast of their strength.
+
+"Now," said the mice, "we will show these boasters how weak are men,
+and how strong are little mice."
+
+When all the mice were gathered about the council tree, the leader spoke
+thus: "My brothers, listen! The Great Spirit did not give men strength,
+that they should fight and kill one another. The Great Spirit did not
+make men powerful, that they should strike down and kill the weaker
+animals. Let us show these fierce warriors that it is the weak who are
+strong, and the strong who are weak. Let every mouse destroy at least
+one weapon before the moon shall rise."
+
+At this, all the mice set to work. Snap, snap, snap, went the bowstrings
+on all sides. Then the sharp little teeth began on the feathers that
+winged the poisoned arrows. Soon the feathers lay in bits about the
+ground.
+
+Next, the deerskin cords that bound the sling shots were cut in two, and
+before the moon had risen, every weapon had been made useless; every
+Indian had been disarmed,--and the mice had scampered away.
+
+The warriors awoke. Again the war cry was raised. They sprang to their
+feet and seized their weapons, but found them useless. Their bows had no
+strings; their arrows, no wings; their slings, no cords.
+
+The warriors who boasted that they were the strongest and fiercest on
+the earth, had been made powerless by mice.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY CROWS ARE POOR
+
+
+After the Great Spirit had made the Red Children and had given them this
+beautiful land in which to live, he sent them a great gift,--the gift of
+the corn.
+
+_Ga gaah_, the Crow, claims it was he who brought this gift. He says he
+was called to the wigwam of the Great Spirit in the sky. A grain of corn
+was placed in his ear, and he was told to carry it to earth, to the Red
+Children.
+
+Therefore, as _Ga gaah_ brought the gift, he claims he has a right to
+pull what corn he needs. _Ga gaah_ says he does not "steal" corn. He
+simply takes what belongs to him, his rightful share.
+
+And surely _Ga gaah_ is not greedy! He never takes more corn than he
+wants for himself. He never hides or stores it away. He takes just what
+he wishes to eat at the time, and no more, for crows never think of
+to-morrow.
+
+In summer, they are happy in the cornfields, guarding the roots from
+insect enemies, and pulling the tender blades whenever they are hungry.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But when winter comes, the crows are sad. Many councils are held.
+Sometimes a council tree will be black with crows. All are so poor and
+so hungry, that they get together to try to plan a better way to live.
+
+There is much noise and confusion at a crow council, for all the crows
+talk at once. All are saying, "No bird is so poor as the crow; he is
+always hungry. Next summer, let us plant and raise a big crop of corn,
+and gather and save it for the winter. Next winter, crows will not be
+hungry; they will have food.
+
+"We will no longer take from the fields of the Red Children just enough
+corn for a meal to-day. We will raise our own corn, and lay by a store
+for the winter."
+
+And having agreed that this is a wise plan, the council ends.
+
+A few days later, another council will be called. At this, the crows
+will plan how and where to plant the corn. Some will be appointed to
+select a field, others to find seed, and still others to plant and tend
+the corn.
+
+But, alas! When spring comes, and skies are blue, and the sun shines
+warm, the crows forget the hunger of the winter, and the councils in the
+tree. They remember only that the skies are blue, and the sun shines
+warm, and now there is plenty of corn.
+
+Happy and content, they walk up and down the fields of the Red Children.
+
+"We have all we want to-day," they say, "Why should we think of
+to-morrow, or next winter? We had a good meal this morning, and we are
+sure of one to-night. Is not this enough for a crow? What more can he
+ask?"
+
+And the next winter comes, and finds the crows as poor and as hungry as
+they were the last. Again they are holding noisy councils in the council
+tree. Again they are laying plans for the great crop of corn that they
+will raise next summer!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE INDIAN LOVES HIS DOG
+
+
+The dog is the Indian's best friend. He is the comrade by day and the
+protector by night. As long as the Indian's dog has strength, he will
+fight for his friend.
+
+The Indian says this is how the dog came to take his part.
+
+An Indian and his dogs went into the woods to hunt. It was in the days
+when dogs and men could talk together, and each understood the language
+of the other.
+
+When they reached the woods, the dogs began to talk with the Indian.
+They told him many wonderful things about the woods, which he did not
+know. They taught him many tricks of the chase: how to scent and track
+the game, and where to look for trails.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The man listened to what the dogs said, and he did as they told him.
+Soon the sledge which the dogs had drawn to the woods was piled high
+with deer and other game.
+
+Never had the Indian's arrows brought him so much game. Never had he met
+with such success in hunting. He was so pleased that he said to the
+dogs, "Always shall I talk with you, give ear to what you say, and be
+one of you."
+
+"Ah, but listen!" said the dogs. "If you wish to be one of us, you must
+live under the law of dogs, not men. Animals have laws different from
+those of men. When two dogs meet for the first time, they try their
+strength to see which is the better dog.
+
+"Men do not fight when strangers meet, they shake hands. As we fight
+strange dogs, so you, too, must fight strange men, to see which is the
+best man,--if you are to live under the law of dogs."
+
+The man said he would think it over, and at sunrise give his answer.
+Indians always sleep before deciding a question.
+
+Next morning, the man said he would live under the law of animals, and
+fight strange men.
+
+The following day, the man made ready to leave the woods. From the
+basswood, he made a strong harness for the dogs, so that they could draw
+the load of game back to the camp for him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When the sun was high, the man and the dogs started with the sledge
+load of game. They had not gone far before they saw two strange Indians
+coming.
+
+"Now," said the dogs to the man, "remember you are living under the
+dog's law. You must fight these strange men."
+
+The man attacked first one Indian and then the other. At last both
+turned on him, and when they left him, he was nearly dead. At this, the
+dogs took a hand. They leaped upon the Indians and drove them from the
+woods. Then they came back to where their friend lay on the ground, and
+began to talk with him and lick his face.
+
+The man could not speak for some time, but when his voice came to him,
+he said to the dogs, "No longer do I wish to live under the law of
+animals. No more shall I fight strangers. From this time, I shall shake
+hands with strangers, and bid them welcome. From this time, I shall be a
+man and live under the law of men."
+
+"Then," said the dogs sadly, "we shall no longer be able to talk with
+you, and tell you the things that we know. But we will always stand by
+you. We will be your friends and will fight for you, when you need us as
+you did to-day."
+
+This is why the Indian and his dog are now unable to speak each other's
+language. This is also why an Indian's dog will fight to the death for
+his friend.
+
+Not only is the dog a true friend to the Indian in this world, but in
+the next as well. It seems that the soul of an Indian on its journey to
+the Happy Hunting Ground must cross a deep, swift-running stream. On
+either side of this dark river, there stand two dogs who hold in their
+teeth a great log upon which the souls pass.
+
+The soul of the Indian who has been kind to his dog crosses the log
+easily, for the dogs stand guard. As the soul of such an Indian reaches
+the river, they say, "This Indian was kind to his dog. He gave him of
+his own food, and the dog always had a warm place by his fire. We will
+help this Indian to cross."
+
+Then the dogs grip the log firmly in their teeth, and hold it steady
+while the soul of the kind Indian passes over.
+
+But if the soul of an Indian who has been unkind to his dog comes to the
+river, the dogs say, "This man was cruel to his dog. He gave his dog no
+place by the fire, he beat him, he let him go hungry. This man shall not
+cross."
+
+Then the dogs grip the log lightly in their teeth, and when the soul of
+the unkind Indian is half way across, they turn it quickly to one side,
+and the soul is thrown into the deep, dark river.
+
+Many an Indian has been kind to his dog, that he might make sure of a
+safe crossing on that log.
+
+
+
+
+GREEDY FAWN AND THE PORRIDGE
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+In the days when there was no one living in this country but the
+Indians, there were no houses; there were only Indian wigwams. There
+were no roads and no streets, but Indian trails.
+
+At that time there grew a wonderful chestnut, which the Indians used in
+their cooking. A very small bit of this chestnut grated into a kettle
+would make a potful of porridge.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+In a certain wigwam lived Deerheart and Sky Elk, and their little son
+Greedy Fawn. The mother was called Deerheart because she was so loving,
+and gentle, and kind. The father was named Sky Elk because he was so
+strong and fleet of foot. Greedy Fawn, too, came rightly by his name.
+You will soon know why.
+
+One day, Deerheart and Sky Elk went on a long trail. As they left the
+wigwam, they said to Greedy Fawn, "Do not touch the chestnut, do not
+build a fire, while we are away."
+
+Greedy Fawn promised. He watched his father and mother disappear down
+the western trail. Then he went back to the wigwam.
+
+"Now," thought he, "I will have all the porridge I want."
+
+So he ran and gathered some sticks. He built a fire with the sticks.
+Then he hung the kettle over the fire, and put some water in it. Then he
+found the chestnut. He grated a little of the chestnut into the kettle,
+and began to stir. Then he grated some more, and some more, and some
+more.
+
+Faster and faster Greedy Fawn stirred the boiling porridge, for it began
+to swell and fill the kettle.
+
+Larger and larger, it grew, and it grew, and it grew.
+
+Greedy Fawn was so frightened he did not know what to do.
+
+"Oh, will it never stop swelling?" he thought. Harder and harder he
+stirred to keep the porridge from boiling over. Beads of perspiration
+ran down his little bronze face, yet still he stirred. He dared not
+stop.
+
+Then he remembered that sometimes his mother would rap the kettle with
+the porridge stick, if it became too full.
+
+Rap, rap, rap, went the porridge stick on the edge of the kettle.
+Instantly the _kettle_ began to swell. Larger, and larger, and larger it
+grew. Greedy Fawn was so frightened he did not know what to do.
+
+Now Greedy Fawn could not reach across the kettle, to stir the porridge
+with his stick, so he began to run around it. And around, and around,
+and around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and stirring.
+
+At last the kettle was so large that it nearly filled the wigwam. There
+was just space enough left for Greedy Fawn to run around it. And around,
+and around, and around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and
+stirring.
+
+Oh, how his little arms ached! And, oh, how tired his small legs were!
+But still he ran. He dared not stop.
+
+Here was porridge enough to last a small boy a lifetime, and he could
+not stop to taste one mouthful!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+At last Greedy Fawn could run no longer. He stumbled and fell by the
+side of the kettle. He was too weak to rise. The stick fell from his
+hand, and the porridge boiled on. Higher, and higher, and higher it
+rose, until it ran over and down the sides of the kettle. Closer, and
+closer the boiling porridge crept to the little Indian boy, and soon
+Greedy Fawn and his stick were nearly buried in porridge.
+
+For once Greedy Fawn had all the porridge he wanted. And never again
+would he have wanted anything, had not Deerheart and Sky Elk heard his
+cries, and come running like deer up the trail to save him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY HOUNDS OUTRUN OTHER ANIMALS
+
+
+A hound was chasing a hare through the woods.
+
+Some wolves and panthers were chasing a bull that had been feeding in
+the valley near the woods. For some time they had been trying to run him
+down, but they did not seem to gain on him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When the wolves and panthers saw that they were not gaining on the bull,
+they halted to take counsel. They decided that it would take a whole day
+of hard running to get the bull, and a hound was near! Why not go for
+the hound?
+
+All agreed. They set off for the hound.
+
+Now the bull had heard the wolves and panthers take council, and he,
+too, set off for the woods.
+
+As he neared the wood, the bull called to the hound and warned him that
+a pack of wolves and panthers was after him. Just then they came into
+sight. The hound dared not meet them alone, and he knew not which way to
+turn.
+
+Then the bull called, "Come, jump on my back. I can outrun them."
+
+The hound ran and leaped on the back of the bull, and away they went.
+
+The bull and the hound talked as they ran. The bull said he thought the
+wolves would soon grow tired, fall back, and give up the chase. But he
+was wrong. They were too angry at being outwitted.
+
+"You think to take our game from us," they howled at the bull. "But we
+will eat hound meat to-night."
+
+The bull saw it was a run for life. All day he ran. For a time it was
+easy to outrun the wolves and panthers, but at last they began to press
+hard upon him.
+
+As the sun dropped out of the sky, the bull felt his knees begin to
+weaken. The weight of the hound was telling on him. A moment later, he
+stumbled and fell.
+
+In an instant, the pack was upon them. But with one leap, the hound
+cleared the pack and was off down the trail.
+
+The weaker wolves and panthers leaped upon the bull. The stronger went
+on.
+
+But now the best of them were no match for the hound. He was fresh and
+strong, for he had been riding all day. They were tired and worn from
+the long chase, and soon they gave it up.
+
+Because the hound is able to save his strength for the end of the chase,
+he can now outrun not only wolves and panthers, but all the other
+animals.
+
+
+
+
+WHY INDIANS NEVER SHOOT PIGEONS
+
+
+An Indian hunter went into the forest in search of game.
+
+The forest was so large that it would have taken three days to journey
+through it. All day he followed the track of the deer, but his arrows
+brought him no food.
+
+At night, he came to a dark, swift-running stream. He was tired and
+hungry.
+
+"Here," said he, "I will lie down and rest until sunrise."
+
+He began to search for a bed of pine needles, for the Indian loves the
+pine tree. It is his friend by day and by night. By day it is his forest
+guide. At night it gives him a soft, sweet-smelling bed on which to
+sleep, and it shields him from the storm.
+
+The hunter ran along the stream. It was very dark. He felt no soft pine
+needles under his moccasined feet, only the knotted roots of trees.
+
+Suddenly the great roots of an oak tree reached out and caught him. He
+could not free his foot from the oak's grasp.
+
+The sun rose and set. The great tree still held the hunter fast. He was
+weak from pain and hunger.
+
+It was now two days since he had tasted food. Four notches had been cut
+in his stick, for the Indian measures time in this way. Each sunrise and
+sunset, when he is on the trail, is marked by a notch on a small stick
+which he carries.
+
+Three times did the sun again rise and set, yet the tree did not let go
+its hold. There were now ten notches on the stick, and the hunter was so
+weak that he could scarcely cut the last one.
+
+As the sun rose on the fifth day, a bird flew into the tree. He saw the
+hunter lying on the ground, and came close and spoke to him.
+
+The hunter understood, for in those days men and birds could talk
+together.
+
+The bird asked the man what he could do for him, and the hunter
+whispered, "You are strong. You can fly a long trail. Go and tell the
+chief of my people."
+
+The bird flew swiftly away with the message. He did not wait until the
+sun was high. He did not stop to eat one berry or one worm. He did not
+fly high, nor fly low to talk with other birds. He went straight to the
+people the hunter had told him of.
+
+The West Wind tried to blow him back. A black cloud came up to frighten
+him, but he went through it. On, and on, and on, he went. Straight to
+the wigwam of the chief, he carried his message.
+
+The chief had called together the young men who were fleet of foot, and
+was about to send them forth to find the lost hunter. They were asking
+the chief what trails they had best take. Before the chief could reply,
+a beautiful dove-colored bird had flown close to his ear and had spoken
+to him in soft, low tones.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The chief told the young men what the bird had said, and they set off on
+the trail the bird had named. Before sunset, they had found the lost
+hunter.
+
+Carefully they freed him from the grasp of the great oak and bore him to
+his people. That night there was a feast and a dance in his honor.
+
+Ever since, the Indians have loved the birds that carry the messages,
+and they never shoot a pigeon.
+
+
+
+
+HOW OLD MAN WINTER WAS DRIVEN BACK
+
+
+Far away in the North Sky lives Old Man Winter. Every year he leaves his
+wigwam in the sky and comes to earth.
+
+At the foot of a mountain, he builds a lodge of ice and snow, which no
+human being, animal, or bird can enter. There he lives for a time.
+
+North Wind is the only friend of Old Man Winter. When he passes near Old
+Man Winter's lodge, he gives a loud shriek, and with his blustering
+breath he blows open the door and enters.
+
+Near a fire which glows, but does not warm, North Wind finds a seat.
+There he and Old Man Winter sit and smoke, and lay their plans for the
+next snowstorm.
+
+When the council is ended, North Wind departs, to drive up the snow and
+hail from the corners of the earth.
+
+Old Man Winter also leaves his lodge. He stalks over the mountains and
+valleys of the Red Children. The land becomes white with his breath. The
+rivers are stilled, and all the voices of the wood are hushed as he
+passes. A deep sleep falls upon every living thing.
+
+No sound is heard in the forest but the rapping on the trees. Old Man
+Winter carries a great hammer, and he strikes the trees a blow as he
+passes. The colder it grows, the louder and more frequently he raps. The
+trees snap, and the Indian lodges crack with his blows.
+
+One day, as Old Man Winter was stalking through a forest, he came upon a
+hunter's lodge. For days the snow had been falling. No track of deer or
+rabbit was to be seen, and the hunter and his little boy sat within,
+weak from hunger. They were also very cold, for the fire in the lodge
+burned low.
+
+Old Man Winter laughed and shook his hammer in glee, as he drew near.
+Once, twice, three times, he rapped. The little boy within heard him,
+and rapped three times in reply,--just as Old Man Winter had done.
+
+At this, the hunter spoke. He told the boy that he must not mock a
+nature spirit, lest some harm should come to him. He might be captured
+and made to serve that spirit.
+
+Now when Old Man Winter heard the mocking raps of the little boy within
+the lodge, he was very angry. He breathed fiercely upon the little
+lodge. It shrank and shivered at his touch like a living thing. He
+struck it several sharp blows with his hammer, and passed on.
+
+The fire inside the lodge burned lower and lower. The hunter and his
+little son drew closer and watched the last flame flicker and die out.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+As they sat by the ashes, numb with the cold, all of a sudden a new
+warmth filled the lodge. The South Wind gently opened the door, and a
+young chieftain, with a face like the sun, entered. He saw the dying
+hunter and the boy, and he warmed them back to life. When they were
+stronger, he helped them to rekindle the fire. Then he told them to take
+a few dried blackberries that they had in the lodge, and boil them in
+water.
+
+He said they must eat a portion of the blackberries, and throw the rest
+at Old Man Winter when he returned. This would frighten him away, for he
+was terribly afraid of blackberries.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Blackberries mean sunshine and summer heat. Old Man Winter cannot stay
+where they are. He never visits the earth at blackberry time.
+
+The hunter and the little boy said they would do as they had been told.
+Soon the young chieftain left the lodge, with the South Wind.
+
+Not many days later, Old Man Winter returned, and again came rapping at
+their lodge. But this time the hunter and the little boy were ready.
+They threw the blackberries at him, as they had been told, and he ran in
+fear to his ice lodge.
+
+The South Wind and the young chieftain with a face like the sun were
+near. They followed close upon the Old Man's track. When he was again
+inside the ice lodge, the South Wind rapped gently at the door.
+
+"Begone!" said the Old Man. "No one but North Wind is welcome to my
+lodge."
+
+Then the South Wind breathed soft and warm upon the door of the ice
+lodge, and it melted at their feet. The young chieftain passed in and
+sat down by the strange fire that had no heat. The South Wind stayed
+without, and sang, soft and low.
+
+The Old Man was very angry. He raged about the lodge and ordered the
+young chieftain with sunshine in his face and warmth in his breath to
+depart.
+
+"I am great and powerful," said the Old Man. "When I touch the sky, the
+snow falls. When I speak, hunters hide in their lodges; animals crawl
+into their holes; and birds fly in fear.
+
+"When my hand touches the earth, it grows cold and hard, and all life
+dies. Begone! or I will make an ice man or a snow man of you."
+
+But the young chieftain moved not. He only sat and smiled at the bluster
+of the Old Man.
+
+Slowly he filled a pipe, and handed it to the Old Man, saying, "Here,
+smoke with me. It will give you strength to go to your lodge in the
+North Sky. It is time for you to depart. You are old, and tired, and
+worn. You and North Wind have had your day. The days that are to come
+belong to South Wind and to me.
+
+"I, too, am powerful, and I am young! I do not fear you. When I touch
+the earth, it grows soft and warm. Every living thing stirs in its
+sleep,--birds and bees, flowers and trees, animals and men. When I
+speak, the sleeping sun awakes. See! already he begins to send down his
+arrows. Hasten! that they may not find you, on the trail to the North
+Sky."
+
+The Old Man trembled. His legs and arms grew weak. Icicles fell from his
+beard. Great tears rolled down his cheeks.
+
+"Who are you?" he whispered, as he was melting at the young chieftain's
+feet.
+
+"I am _Go hay_--the Spring," answered the young chieftain. "All the
+earth is glad, when I come to drive you back to your lodge in the North
+Sky, for I bring sunshine, and love, and joy."
+
+But the Old Man did not hear. He was far on the North Sky trail, and
+Spring and South Wind were masters of earth.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY LIGHTNING SOMETIMES STRIKES
+
+
+An old man of the Iroquois nation once wished to make a beautiful Indian
+maiden his wife. The old man had many rare furs and valued strings of
+wampum. These he brought and laid at the door of the wigwam where the
+maiden lived.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The father and mother were pleased with the old man's gifts. They told
+him that when the Planting Moon should come, the maiden should go to his
+wigwam.
+
+Now the maiden did not love the old man. She did not wish him to make
+her his wife. "I will never sit at his wigwam door," she said.
+
+It was midwinter, when the old man brought the gifts, the time of the
+pale, cold moon. From that time, the maiden watched, with a heavy heart,
+the moons wax and wane.
+
+At last the snows disappeared. No more was the North Wind heard
+shrieking about the lodge. The gentle South Wind had come, bringing with
+him the singing birds.
+
+The little brooks awoke and sang. They were happy that spring had come,
+and all the earth children were glad,--except the maiden. Her heart grew
+more heavy and sad, as the face of the sun grew brighter.
+
+Then the Planting Moon came. The maiden watched the moon hang her horn
+in the sky. Then she ran swiftly to the great river that flowed not far
+from the lodge. Lightly she sprang into her canoe. A few quick strokes,
+and the canoe was in midstream.
+
+The current ran swift and strong. The little craft was carried swiftly
+down the river toward the great falls known as Niagara Falls. As the
+canoe neared the falls, the maiden was seen to rise and stretch out her
+arms, as though about to leap. A smile was on her face, and a song was
+on her lips, as the canoe shot into the mist that overhung the water.
+
+Then, from the caverns below a dark blanket floated upward, as though
+spread to catch the maiden. It was Heno, the Thunder Spirit, who dwelt
+behind the falls. He had caught her in the folds of his blanket, and
+had saved her from the great rocks below.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Heno took the maiden to live with him, in his lodge behind the falls.
+There she was very happy, so happy that her smile shone through the
+mist, and the Indians cried, "See! A rainbow!"
+
+In her new home the maiden learned many wonderful things. She found she
+possessed strange powers, not known to her before. She could float on a
+cloud at will, and she seemed filled with a strange fire.
+
+One day, the young woman was given a son. Heno and she were very happy.
+Many moons the mother and child played together. When Heno was away on
+one of his journeys through the sky, they would ride the great bubbles
+of foam that went dashing through the rocks. Sometimes they would catch
+sunbeams in a net, as they sat on the edge of a cloud and fished.
+
+One day, Heno asked the young woman if she would like to visit her
+people.
+
+"If you wish," he said, "you shall return for a time, taking our son
+with you. But remember, both of you possess powers unknown to the earth
+children. Be careful how you use them. Never let another child strike
+the boy, for that child would at once wither and die. Never strike the
+boy yourself, for he would fall stunned to earth."
+
+[Illustration: CRADLE BOARD]
+
+The woman listened to Heno's words. Soon they were wrapped in his great
+cloud blanket, and were floating over the river. When they came to the
+home of her people, Heno left the woman and the boy by the river, and
+went on further to the east.
+
+The people were glad to see the woman, whom they had mourned as dead.
+She told them of the wonderful things she had learned in her new home.
+She told them also how Heno was freeing their land of a monster serpent,
+that trailed underneath the earth, poisoning their springs and causing
+sickness. Always, she said, Heno carried a basket of great rocks on his
+back, which he hurled at the monster whenever he saw him. Soon he would
+kill the serpent, and they would be sick no more.
+
+During many days, the mother and the little boy stayed with the earth
+people. Sometimes, when the child was playing by the river, he would see
+a dark cloud approaching. Then he would clap his hands with joy and cry,
+"There comes my father!"
+
+The black cloud would float earthward, and Heno would stop and have a
+word with the mother and the boy. As he left them he always said, "Do
+not let anyone strike the boy."
+
+But one day, the mother did not watch the boy, and he fell to playing
+with some earth children. They grew angry as they played, and struck the
+boy. Instantly these earth children fell dead to the ground. Then the
+mother laid hands on the boy, to punish him, and he fell to earth.
+
+At this, there came a great rumbling and roaring through the sky, and
+Heno appeared. He took the lifeless child in his arms, crying, "You have
+disobeyed. No longer shall you have this great power I gave you. You
+shall remain on earth and be simply an earth woman. I will take the boy
+to my abode. Henceforth, our lodge shall be in the sky. There he will
+return to life, and ever after he will go with me on my journeys through
+the sky."
+
+Then the sky shook and trembled. The door of the sky lodge opened, and
+Heno and the boy were seen no more.
+
+Now, when a rumbling and rolling through the sky is heard, the Indians
+say, "'Tis the voice of Heno! He is coming from his lodge in the sky!"
+
+But when a flash of fire is seen, and a loud crash is heard, they say,
+"That is the boy! He is trying to hit the earth children with a fire
+stone. He remembers how they struck him, a long time ago."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHY THE HARE HAS A SPLIT LIP AND SHORT TAIL
+
+
+Once a rabbit began to run back and forth through the woods, calling for
+snow, snow, snow! It was one of those large gray rabbits, with long
+ears, that people call hares.
+
+As this hare ran back and forth through the woods, he sang at the top of
+his voice, "_Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah-yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh!
+dah gen, dah ton, Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh!_" This meant,
+"Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow! Snow, snow, snow! How
+I would run if I had snow!"
+
+Now, strange as it may seem, as this hare ran back and forth singing for
+snow, snow, snow, some flakes of snow began to fall. The hare was so
+delighted that he jumped up and down for joy.
+
+"_Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh!_" he sang,
+in short, quick notes of joy. And the higher he jumped, and the louder
+he sang, the faster and thicker the snow came.
+
+The hare was so delighted that he again began to run. All day long he
+ran, back and forth through the woods, calling for "Snow, snow, snow!
+How I would run if I had snow!" And the snow fell faster and faster.
+Thicker and thicker it came. The path in which the rabbit ran grew
+higher and higher, as the snow fell deeper and deeper.
+
+But at last the hare was so tired that he could run no longer. He no
+longer sang for "Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow," for
+he now had more snow than he wanted. The snow was up to the tiptops of
+the trees, and it was very hard to run.
+
+The hare was very tired. He thought he must take a rest. Night was
+coming on. He looked about him. Near the path were the top branches of a
+willow tree, sticking out above the snow. He sprang into a crotch of
+those branches. There he could sit and rest for a time. Soon he fell
+asleep. He slept all night and part of the next day.
+
+That night it began to rain, and it rained very, very hard. The snow
+began to melt, and it melted very, very fast, and when that hare awoke,
+not a flake of snow was to be seen!
+
+But there was the hare away up in the tiptop of that willow tree! What
+to do he did not know. He was very hungry. He wondered how long he could
+stay there and not starve. He saw some tender buds on the branches. He
+ate those, and then he gnawed bark for a time.
+
+However, sooner or later, the hare knew he must jump or starve. He
+looked down at the earth. It looked very good to him. He could see some
+fresh green moss and some beautiful grass. One jump, and they were his!
+But what a jump!
+
+At last the hare whipped his courage up to the jumping point. He shut
+his eyes, and gave one great jump to earth. But when he jumped, he
+caught his tail on the branch of the willow tree and left part of it up
+there. And when he jumped, he struck the front of his face on a sharp
+stone, and the stone split his upper lip in two.
+
+Ever since then, hares have had split lips and short tails, and ever
+since then, willow trees have had tails, or catkins, on them, in the
+spring.
+
+
+
+
+CORN PLUME AND BEAN MAIDEN
+
+
+The Great Spirit had smiled upon his Red Children. The land was filled
+with plenty, for the Great Spirit had given to them the three sustainers
+of life, the corn, the bean, and the squash. Flowers bloomed, birds
+sang, and all the earth was glad with the Red Children, for the gifts of
+the Great Spirit.
+
+On one side of a hill grew the tall, waving corn, with its silk tassels
+and plumes. On another side, beans, with their velvety pods, climbed
+toward the sky. Some distance down a third slope, beautiful yellow
+squashes turned their faces to the sun.
+
+One day, the Spirit of the corn grew restless. There came a rustling
+through the waving leaves, and a great sigh burst from the heart of the
+tall stalks. The Spirit of the corn was lonely.
+
+After that, every morning at sunrise, a handsome young chief was seen to
+come and stand on the brow of the hill. On his head were shining red
+plumes. Tall, and strong, and splendid he stood, wrapped in the folds of
+his waving blanket, whose fringed tassels danced to the summer breeze.
+
+"_Che che hen! Che che hen!_ Some one I would marry! Some one I would
+marry!" the young chieftain would sing, many, many times.
+
+One day, his voice reached the Squash Maiden, on the other side of the
+hill. The Squash Maiden drew about her a rich green blanket, into which
+she had woven many flaunting gold trumpet-shaped flowers. Then she ran
+swiftly to the young chieftain.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Marry me! Marry me!" said the Squash Maiden, as she spread her
+beautiful gold and green blanket at his feet.
+
+Corn Plume looked down at the Squash Maiden sitting on her blanket at
+his feet. She was good to look upon, and yet Corn Plume was not content.
+He wanted a maiden who would stand by his side, not always sit at his
+feet.
+
+Then Corn Plume spoke thus to the Squash Maiden.
+
+"Corn Plume cannot marry Squash Maiden. She is very beautiful, but she
+will not make song in Corn Plume's heart. Squash Maiden will grow tired
+of his lodge. She will not stay in his wigwam. She likes to go a long
+trail, and wander far from the lodge.
+
+"Corn Plume cannot make Squash Maiden his wife, for he is not content
+with her. But she shall be Corn Plume's sister, and sit in his lodge
+whenever she will. The maiden Corn Plume weds must be ever at his side.
+She must go where he goes, stay where he stays."
+
+Next morning at sunrise, the voice of Corn Plume was again heard,
+singing from the hilltop, "_Che che hen! Che che hen!_ Some one I would
+marry! Some one I would marry! _Che che hen! Che che hen!_"
+
+This time his song reached the ears of the Bean Maiden. Her heart sang,
+when she heard the voice of Corn Plume, for she knew that he was calling
+her. So light of heart was Bean Maiden, that she ran like a deer up the
+hillside. On and on, up and over the brow of the hill she climbed, till
+she reached the young chieftain's side.
+
+Then Corn Plume turned and beheld the most beautiful maiden he had ever
+seen. Her eyes were deep and dark, like mountain pools. Her breath was
+sweet as the waters of the maple. She threw off her blanket of green,
+and purple, and white, and stretched her twining arms to him.
+
+Corn Plume desired to keep Bean Maiden forever close to him. He bent his
+tall plumed head to her. Her arms wound round and round the young
+chieftain, and Corn Plume was content.
+
+So closely were the arms of Corn Plume and the Bean Maiden entwined, so
+truly were they wed, that the Indians never attempted to separate them.
+Ever after, corn and beans were planted in the same hill, and often a
+squash seed was added.
+
+Since the Great Spirit had placed the corn, the bean, and the squash
+together on a hill, the Indian said they should continue to live and
+grow and occupy a hill together.
+
+The door of Corn Plume's lodge was ever open to the Squash Maiden, if
+she chose to enter. But seldom did she stay in his wigwam. More often,
+she was found running off on a long trail.
+
+But Bean Maiden remained true to Corn Plume. Always she was found by his
+side. Never did she leave the lodge unless he went with her. Corn
+Plume's lodge was her lodge, and her trail was his trail.
+
+And because the Spirits of the corn and the bean are as one, the Indians
+not only plant and grow them together, but cook and eat them together.
+"In life, they were one," they say, "We will not separate them in
+death."
+
+And now, when a great rustling and sighing of the corn is heard in the
+White man's land, the Indians often say, "'Tis the Spirit of Corn Plume,
+crying for his lost Bean Maiden!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE ROBIN BURNED HIS BREAST
+
+
+Some Indian hunters once made their way north, to hunt for moose. It was
+at the time of Falling Leaves.
+
+They journeyed for several days, until they came to a lake. Close by the
+lake they built a log cabin. Moss was placed between the logs to keep
+out the wind, and a thick roof was made from hemlock boughs. In the
+center of the roof, a small opening was left for the smoke from the
+lodge fire to pass out.
+
+Here the hunters lived during the Moon of Falling Leaves. Every day they
+went on the moose trail, but they found no moose. Their arrows brought
+them little game of any kind. They became discouraged and sick, and one
+by one the hunters lay down and died.
+
+At last there was but one hunter left. He, too, was sick, and he grew
+weaker day by day. His food was nearly gone. It was growing cold, and
+there was little wood in the cabin to burn.
+
+But the man did not give up. Again and again he cried aloud, "Some one
+will come and help me! Some one will come and help me!"
+
+One day, as he lay there too weak to rise, the fire flickered and went
+out. It seemed that he must die. But even then he did not give up. Again
+and again, with his weak voice he cried, "Some one will come and help
+me! Some one will come and help me!"
+
+And some one did come and help him. His cry was heard, for a bird came
+flying in through the smoke hole in the roof of the lodge.
+
+The bird had such a cheery, brave voice that the man felt better the
+moment he flew in. The bird said to the man, "I was near; I heard you
+calling. I have come to help you."
+
+Then the bird saw that the fire was out, and that the man was cold. He
+fluttered among the ashes until he found a bit of live coal. With a glad
+chirp, he flew out through the roof. Soon he was back, with his bill
+full of dried twigs. He placed them on the fire and began to fan them
+into flame with his wings. Soon the twigs were blazing. Then he flew out
+for more twigs,--and more, and more, and more.
+
+The brave little bird kept on carrying twigs until the fire burned hot,
+and the lodge was warm once more.
+
+When the bird had flown into the lodge, he had had a clean, white
+breast. After the fire was built, his breast was covered with red and
+brown spots. He tried to pick them off with his bill, but they would
+not come off. Instead, they seemed to spread, and his whole breast
+became red-brown. Then the bird knew that he must have burned his breast
+to a red-brown, when he was fanning the fire into flame.
+
+But the little bird did not care if he had soiled his white breast, and
+burned it red-brown. Had he not brought cheer and life to a dying man?
+
+He chirped a few glad notes, then said to the man, "I will go now, but I
+shall be near your lodge. When you need me, call, and I will come
+again."
+
+Later in the day, the man again called for help. The fire was getting
+low, and he was not yet strong enough to go out and gather twigs. Again
+the bird came to his aid. In and out he flew, many times, after small
+branches and twigs, until they were piled high on the fire, and once
+more it crackled and burned.
+
+There was a little wood in the lodge. The man placed it on the fire,
+and the warmth healed the man, so that soon he was well and strong
+again.
+
+Every day the man talked with the bird, for he was always near, and his
+cheery voice and brave words gave the man courage.
+
+Once more he went on the moose trail, and this time his arrows brought
+him moose. In a short time the hunter had all the meat, skins, and moose
+hair he wanted. The moose hair he was taking to his wife, to work into
+pretty forms on moccasins.
+
+The first snow was falling, as the hunter started south on the home
+trail. The bird hopped along by his side for a little way, then said, "I
+must leave you now. Winter is coming, and I must be on my way to the
+Southland, or the snow will catch me. In the spring you will see me
+again."
+
+When spring came, the bird with the red-brown breast came with his mate,
+and built a nest close to the hunter's home lodge. In the nest, that
+summer, there grew up five little birds, and they, too, had red and
+brown breasts.
+
+And ever since, Robin Redbreast has continued to come and build his nest
+close to the lodges of men, for Robin Redbreast is a friend to man.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+IROQUOIS FAIRY STORIES
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW MORNING STAR LOST HER FISH
+
+
+Once the Little People, the Indian fairies, ran with the Red Children
+through the woods, and played with them beside the streams. Now they are
+not often seen, for the white man drove them out of the woods with the
+Indians, and away from the waters, with his big steam noises.
+
+But before steamboats and great mills were on the streams, the Little
+People were there. They were often seen paddling their tiny canoes, or
+sliding down the great rocks on the banks. They loved to slide down a
+bank where one rock jutted out, for then they had a big bounce. They
+also liked to sport and jump with the fish.
+
+There was a young Indian girl whose name was Morning Star. She was
+called Morning Star because her face was so bright, and she was always
+up early in the morning.
+
+Morning Star lived with her father in a comfortable wigwam by a river.
+Every day she would get up with the sun, and run down to the river where
+the great rocks were, to catch fish for breakfast.
+
+Morning Star caught her fish in a basket. At night, she would go and
+fasten her basket between the rocks, in a narrow place of the stream.
+Then, when the fish swam through in the night, they would get caught in
+it, and Morning Star would find plenty of fish waiting for her. In the
+morning, she would take the basket of fish back to the wigwam, and soon
+the smell of fish frying on hot coals would come from the lodge.
+
+Never since Morning Star began to fish with her basket, had Chief Little
+Wolf, her father, had to wait for his fish breakfast before starting on
+the chase. But one morning, neither Chief Little Wolf nor Morning Star
+breakfasted on fish. This is how it happened.
+
+On this morning, the Indian girl was up as usual with the sun. She ran
+down the river just as the Great Spirit lifted the sun's smiling face.
+Morning Star had such a light heart that she was glad just to be alive,
+and she sang a song of praise as she ran. All true Indians at sunrise
+lift their arms and faces to the sun, and thank the Great Spirit that he
+has smiled upon them again.
+
+Happy and fleet as a deer, Morning Star ran on until she came to the
+great rocks. There she saw a whole tribe of tiny little folk gathered
+about her basket. Some of them were perched on the sides of the basket,
+laughing and singing. Others were lifting the fish from it and throwing
+them into the stream. Still others were opening and closing the splints
+of the basket for the fish to slip through.
+
+Morning Star knew that these tiny folk were the _Jo gah oh_. She knew
+also that these Little People were friends of the fish. They know every
+twist of a fish net and every turn of a hook. Often they have been known
+to set fish free, and to guide them into deep, quiet places, far away
+from the men who fish.
+
+Morning Star called to the Little People and begged them not to let all
+the fish go. Then she began to climb down the rocks, as fast as she
+could. The little Chief called up to her, "Fish, like Indian girls, like
+to be alive."
+
+Then he told the Little People to keep on setting the fish free.
+
+When Morning Star reached her basket, a few fish were still in it. She
+put out her hand to take them from the Little People,--and not a fish,
+nor a _Jo gah oh_ was to be seen. The Little People had darted into
+the rocks, for they go through anything, and the fish had slipped
+through the tiny spaces between the splints of the basket.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Morning Star heard the laughter of the Little People echo deep within
+the rocks, for they like to play pranks with the earth children. And far
+down the stream, she saw the fish leap with joy at being still alive.
+She took up her empty basket and went back to the wigwam.
+
+That morning for breakfast, Morning Star baked corn cakes on the hot
+coals. As she ate the hot cakes, she thought they tasted almost as good
+as fish.
+
+Ever after, when Morning Star saw a fish leap from the stream, she
+remembered what the _Jo gah oh_ had said: "Fish, like Indian girls, like
+to be alive."
+
+
+
+
+HOW LITTLE SHOOTER LOST HIS LUCK
+
+
+One day, an Indian boy was playing beside a stream, when one of the
+little elf men came along in his canoe. The boy had his bow and arrow
+with him; so had the little elf man.
+
+The little man stopped and offered to trade bows and arrows. The Indian
+boy looked first at his bow, and then at that of the little man. His bow
+was large. The little man's bow was very small. The boy thought his own
+bow was better, so he said he would not trade.
+
+The little elf man laughed and drew his bow.
+
+"You think only big things are great," he said. "Some day you will learn
+better. Some day you will want this little bow and these little arrows.
+Some day you will wish you had traded."
+
+Then he shot an arrow into the clouds, sprang into his canoe, and
+paddled off up the stream. As he disappeared, he called back to the boy,
+"You will see me again, sometime!"
+
+The Indian boy ran to his wigwam home. He told his father about the
+little man he had seen, and how the man wanted to trade bow and arrows.
+
+"And you did not trade?" exclaimed the father.
+
+"No," said the boy, "his bow was small; mine is large."
+
+"Foolish boy!" said the father. "That little man was a _Jo gah oh_, one
+of the Little People. They do wonderful things. Their arrows are winged
+with power. Had you traded bows, you would have become a great hunter,
+and been able to get near the animals.
+
+"Those little arrows of the _Jo gah oh_ fly swift and far, and always
+bring back game. The boy who has a _Jo gah oh_ bow and arrow always has
+good luck. One arrow of theirs is worth a flight of yours. Had you
+traded bow and arrows, you would have been called 'He shoots the sky.'
+Now you shall be called 'Little Shooter.'"
+
+Little Shooter grew to be a man. He went often on the chase, but his
+arrows did not bring much game.
+
+Many times, he wished he could meet the little elf man again, and trade
+bow and arrows, for sometimes he ran for days and found no track of deer
+or rabbit. But the little elf man never came.
+
+One day, when Little Shooter had grown to be quite an old man, he was
+walking in the woods. He stopped under a tree to rest. Several times he
+felt something fall on his head.
+
+At last he looked up to see what it was.
+
+There sat the little elf man, swinging on the tip of a branch, and
+throwing nuts and twigs at him. He looked just as he did when Little
+Shooter met him by the stream long before. He had not grown old or
+changed at all.
+
+"How long have you been here?" asked Little Shooter.
+
+"I have always been here," said the little man. "I have been in the
+world ever since the stones were soft."
+
+Then he laughed, and asked, "Does Little Shooter now like big bow and
+arrows best, or has he learned that sometimes small things are great?
+Next time, he had better trade with the little man," and aiming another
+nut at Little Shooter's head, he disappeared in the tree trunk.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW AN INDIAN BOY WON HIS NAME
+
+
+It was bluebird time, many moons ago. Little brooks laughed and danced,
+and all the forest was glad.
+
+An Indian boy came running through the forest. He, too, was glad, for it
+was spring!
+
+As he ran down the trail, he saw something hanging from a bush. The bush
+was but a few rabbit jumps from the trail, so he stopped to see what new
+flower the spring had brought. He found the new flower to be a tiny
+papoose cradle.
+
+The boy picked the cradle from the bush, and held it in the palm of his
+hand. As he looked closer, he saw that there was a tiny papoose in the
+little cradle. The wee papoose laughed in his face, as he spoke to it.
+
+The boy had never seen so tiny a papoose, and he thought he would take
+it home to his mother, it was so cunning. She had but nine of her own.
+He was sure she would like one more, and that there would be a place for
+the tiny stranger in their wigwam.
+
+He started to run on down the trail, but something seemed to hold him
+fast. He could not get away. Three times he tried to run, but each time
+he only circled round that bush. Something held him to the spot.
+
+Just then there came a sharp cry from up the trail. The boy thought some
+animal must be hurt or in pain. He turned to look and saw a little woman
+coming. She was less than a foot high, but she ran like a deer to the
+boy, and cried and begged him to give back her baby.
+
+Then the boy knew it was the love of that little mother that had held
+him fast. He could not break the love cord between that mother and her
+baby.
+
+Now the boy had a heart that was soft and kind. He liked to see
+everything happy. When he saw the little mother crying and begging for
+her baby, he felt sorry for her.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Many times he had heard his mother tell how every mother bird loves her
+young; every mother bear, her cub; every mother deer, her fawn; every
+Indian mother, her papoose. And he knew this little fairy mother must
+also love her fairy baby, so he put it on the little mother's back, and
+told her she should have her papoose.
+
+The little mother gave a glad cry, as she felt the baby on her back once
+more. Then she drew a stone from a bag which she carried, and slipped it
+on a string of beads that hung from the boy's neck.
+
+The stone shone on his breast like a dewdrop.
+
+"Because you are good, and kind, and unselfish, and because you make
+everything happy," she said, "you shall wear this good-luck stone. It
+will bring you whatever you want.
+
+"We Little People give this stone to those earth children only, who are
+strong and yet protect the weak. Wear it always on your breast. Never
+take it off, and you will become a mighty chief."
+
+Then the little mother gave another glad cry, and with her baby on her
+back she disappeared into an oak.
+
+The boy ran on. His heart grew lighter and the stone brighter, as he
+ran. Before he reached his mother's wigwam, his arrows had brought back
+game for their evening meal.
+
+From the day when the boy met the little _Jo gah oh_ mother in the wood,
+and was given the stone, he had good luck. Whatever he did, all went
+well with him. If he went on the chase, he brought back deer. If he
+planted corn, it grew tall and fine. No boy could throw a ball as far,
+or could run as fast as he. He could shoot his arrows to the sky, and
+could send his snow-snakes skimming far beyond the rest.
+
+So lucky was this Indian boy, that his tribe called him
+"Luck-in-all-moons." "He wears the good-luck stone," the old people said
+as they sat around the fire, and they nodded their heads knowingly. But
+they never knew how he came by it, or why he won the stone.
+
+And when "Luck-in-all-moons" grew to be a man, his tribe made him a
+great chief. Just as the little _Jo gah oh_ mother had said, he became a
+chief, though not in the chieftain line.
+
+Because he stood so strong and straight, serving the people, protecting
+the weak, and doing great deeds, he was called the Pine-tree Chief.
+
+"His feet are planted deep in wisdom and strength," they said, "and his
+head is not far from the sky. He sees far and points us the way. As the
+topmost branch of the pine points always to the east, so
+Luck-in-all-moons shall guide us to the sun rising. He shall be our
+Pine-tree Chief."
+
+
+
+
+HOW THE FAIRIES WORKED MAGIC
+
+
+Once a little Indian girl was very sad and unhappy. The Great Spirit had
+taken her father and mother, and she had gone to live with relatives who
+did not want her. Often she went to sleep hungry, for only the scraps of
+food that were left from a meal were given to her.
+
+One day, the relatives of the little girl brought in a fine deer from
+the chase, and made ready for a feast. They told the girl to get out of
+the lodge, for there was neither room, nor meat for her.
+
+The little girl ran and hid herself in a great field of corn. There she
+cried aloud.
+
+Soon a band of strange Little People gathered about her, to comfort her.
+On all sides, from the folds of the green cornstalks they came.
+
+They stroked her head, wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, "Don't
+cry, little girl. We will take care of you. You shall come and live with
+us. We will make a feast for you. We know why you are sad, for we can
+read the thoughts of all the earth children. Come with us, and we will
+show you more wonderful things than you have ever seen."
+
+At this the little girl dried her tears, and smiled at the kind Little
+People.
+
+"You are very good to me," she said. "Who are you?"
+
+"We are the _Jo gah oh_," they replied, "the Little People. Come, and we
+will show you what we can do."
+
+Then they slipped some winged moccasins upon her feet. They wrapped her
+in an invisible blanket and put a magic corn plume in her hair, and the
+next moment all were flying through the air.
+
+They flew to a ledge of great rocks. At the touch of the Little People,
+the rocks opened, and they passed within.
+
+The girl found herself in a beautiful lodge. Kind _Jo gah oh_ mothers
+were baking cakes and roasting meat. They welcomed the girl, and soon a
+feast was spread in her honor.
+
+Now the heart of the little girl was so light that she danced with joy.
+
+"What wonderful people you are! Can you go anywhere, or do anything you
+wish?"
+
+"Yes," said the little chief, "the _Jo gah oh_ are small, but they are
+great. Come with us, and you shall see what we can do."
+
+Again they were flying through the air. Soon they reached the lodge
+where the little girl had lived. It was night, and her relatives were
+asleep, but she could see the deer that hung outside ready for the
+feast.
+
+"Now," said the _Jo gah oh_ chief, "we will call out a pack of wolves
+from the wood yonder, and there will be no fat deer for this selfish
+feast, at sunrise."
+
+Now no wolves had been seen in that wood for many moons. But at the call
+of the fairies, a pack sprang from it, ran to the lodge, seized the
+deer, and tore it into shreds. Then they again disappeared in the wood.
+
+The little girl's eyes were large now with wonder, as they flew back to
+the fairy lodge in the rocks, but she was not afraid of these strange
+Little People. She was so happy with them she wished she might always
+live in a _Jo gah oh_ lodge.
+
+One morning, the little chief said, "Today we shall see more wonders."
+
+This time a tiny canoe was waiting. They stepped into it and sailed
+down a river until they came to a great tree.
+
+"In that tree," said the little chief, "lives a great, black bear. Every
+day he comes out that door you see high up in the bear tree. I will make
+the door fast so he cannot open it. A deep sleep will fall on him. He
+will sleep for many moons."
+
+Then the chief threw three stones through the open door of the bear
+tree. Each time, a flame spread like a blanket over the door. A growling
+and scratching was heard within. Then all became still.
+
+"Now," said the chief, "the bear will sleep until I call him in the
+spring. He is locked up for the winter. Come, let us go on."
+
+The little girl drew her invisible blanket closer, as the canoe went
+sailing with the birds through the clouds. The birds that were swift of
+wing called loudly for a race.
+
+"Come on!" said the fairy chief.
+
+Then he spread wide the invisible sails of his canoe, and they flew past
+the birds like a streak of lightning. Even the eagle was left far
+behind. They seemed to shoot through the sky.
+
+And, oh, what fun it was to be a bird! The little girl would have sailed
+on forever, but the little chief said, "You shall now return to your
+people. We have given them soft hearts and kind minds. They are calling
+for you. They will be glad to see you."
+
+And soon the little girl was again in the wigwam of her relatives,
+sitting by the warm fire.
+
+They greeted her with joy, spread a soft skin for her to sit upon, and
+gave her the best food. And the little girl lived with them, ever after,
+and was happy.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Stories the Iroquois Tell Their
+Children, by Mabel Powers
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THE IROQUOIS TELL ***
+
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