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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31502-8.txt b/31502-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..37135d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/31502-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3344 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Two Indian Children of Long Ago, by Frances Taylor + +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: Two Indian Children of Long Ago + +Author: Frances Taylor + +Release Date: March 4, 2010 [EBook #31502] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO INDIAN CHILDREN OF LONG AGO *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + Two Indian Children + of + Long Ago + + BY + FRANCES LILIAN TAYLOR + Author of Adventures in Storyland Readers + + ILLUSTRATED BY + L. KATE DEAL + + BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY + CHICAGO + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY + BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +[Illustration] + + + + +CONTENTS + +[Illustration] + + + PAGE + + THE FIRST AMERICANS 7 + + THE WILD-RICE INDIANS 13 + + STORIES AND STORY-TELLERS 17 + + WELCOME TO A PAPOOSE 21 + + THE INDIAN BABY AND HER CRADLE 25 + + WHITE CLOUD'S FIRST RIDE 28 + + NOKOMIS TELLS A STORY 34 + + THE FIREFLY DANCE 37 + + SWIFT ELK, THE INDIAN BOY 40 + + THE NAMING OF SWIFT ELK 45 + + FIRE AND THE FIRE MAKERS 49 + + THE THUNDERERS 56 + + THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE FOREST 58 + + BLACK WOLF TELLS A STORY 62 + + THE RACE BETWEEN THE CRANE AND THE HUMMING + BIRD 67 + + HUNTING WILD DUCKS 70 + + A BRAVE DUCK 77 + + SUMMER SPORTS 81 + + THE BALL GAME 85 + + THE ANIMALS AND THE BIRDS PLAY BALL 89 + + GATHERING WILD RICE 94 + + THE ANT AND THE KATYDID 100 + + HOW WILD RICE WAS DISCOVERED 102 + + MOVING THE DOLLS' CAMP 106 + + FINDING A WAR FEATHER 114 + + THE LYNX AND THE HARE 117 + + HOW THE ANIMALS SAVED THE TRIBE 119 + + WINTER EVENINGS 125 + + THE GROUND-HOG DANCE 131 + + THE LUCKY HUNTER 134 + + HOW SICKNESS CAME 140 + + HOW SPRING CONQUERED WINTER 144 + + THE GIFT OF CORN 149 + + THE MAGIC CANOE 154 + + THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUNDS 158 + + ABOUT THE BOOK 160 + + + + + TWO + INDIAN CHILDREN + of LONG AGO + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE FIRST AMERICANS + + +We are proud of being Americans. But we must not forget that the +Indians once owned all America, north and south and east and west. + +The Indians were the first Americans of whom we read. No people ever +had a greater love for their land, and no race has ever taken more +pleasure in out-of-door life. + +After Columbus found the New World, white men came from Europe to make +their homes here. As time went on they drove the Indians farther and +farther west and took away their hunting grounds. + +Let us try to imagine our country as it was when the Indians owned it. +Can we picture our land without a house or a store or a railroad? Can +we think of great rivers with no cities on their banks and with no +bridges on which to cross from one side to the other? + +Every boy we know likes to go camping. But who would be willing to set +up a camp far away in the deep woods without taking with him tent or +food or blankets? + +Before trade with the white men began, the Indians found everything +they needed in the wild land about them. They could make their own +weapons and tools, their canoes and paddles, their houses and +clothing, and even build a fire without matches. + +Your fathers leave home to earn money for your food and clothing. Your +mothers see that your meals are cooked and that your clothes are +bought or made. + +The Indians took care of their children in much the same way. During +the hunting season the fathers and big brothers went away every +morning to hunt. The men provided all the meat for their families, and +all the skins for clothing and covers. + +When a deer or a bear was shot, the hunter brought it to the camp and +threw it down. His work for the day was done--the women could do the +rest. + +And it was wonderful to see what the wives and mothers could do with a +big animal. Was there a wigwam in the tribe without food? The meat was +shared to the last mouthful. Was there an abundance? The meat was +dried for long keeping. + +Did the son need more covers for his bed? A bear's skin was finished +like a fur rug for his comfort. Did the black-eyed daughter beg for a +new dress? Her mother could make from the deerskin a soft garment +beautifully trimmed with colored beads, stained quills, and fringes. + +But what did the Indians do when they could find no more game to shoot +with their arrows? Why, they sent out scouts to select a better place +to live, and the chief gave orders for every one to move. + +Down came the lodge poles. The trained dogs were called and loaded, +and away they all went. Just think of a whole village moving and +leaving nothing behind but the land! + +[Illustration] + +The Indians spent much time in feasting, dancing, and games. During +the summer the men had little else to do, for they seldom hunted while +the wild animals were caring for their young. + +Each tribe was ruled by a chief and a council of warriors. All their +lands were held in common, and no one suffered want except when food +was scarce for all. + +Every boy was watched with interest by the whole village. His first +walking was noticed, and his first success in hunting was often +celebrated by a feast. + +[Illustration] + +When the corn was ripe, the Indians held one of the most important +dances of the year to show their thanks to the Great Spirit for the +gift of corn. + +In times of sickness, the medicine man came with rattle and drum to +drive away the evil spirits that were believed to have caused the +trouble. If the sick person grew worse, Indians, with their faces +painted black, crowded the wigwam and more medicine men were called. + +They drummed harder and harder. They yelled and beat their rattles, +thinking that they were helping the sick one to recover. + +When anyone in the tribe died, the things he had cared for most were +placed in his grave. There were toys for a little child, and weapons +and blankets for a warrior. The favorite horse of a chief was often +killed to be his companion on the journey to the land of spirits. Even +food was carried to the burial place because the trail was long that +led to the Happy Hunting Grounds. + +After many years, the early customs became greatly changed. To-day +large numbers of Indians are living in the white man's way. Some are +well educated and own houses, farms, and even automobiles. Their +children are trained in government schools. There are writers among +them whose books we like to read, and there are artists who paint +interesting pictures of Indian life. + +During the great World War the Indians begged to join the army, and +hundreds enlisted. Young men from many tribes were in France, and +there were no braver soldiers. + + + + +THE WILD-RICE INDIANS + + +Every boy and girl who studies geography can find the Great Lakes. In +the states south and west there are hundreds of small lakes and rivers +where wild rice grows in the shallow water. + +During the early days of our country, different tribes of Indians +gathered the wild rice for food, and many battles were fought for the +rice fields. + +From the birch trees of the forest the men obtained bark for their +canoes. In these light boats the women pushed their way through the +thickets of ripe grain. They beat the stalks with short sticks, +letting the rice fall into the canoes. + +The wild rice was eaten raw from the growing plants. It was also +parched while green for daily use, and bushels of the ripe grain were +stored away for the long, cold winter. + +[Illustration] + +At harvest time there was always good hunting, for great flocks of +ducks, geese, and other birds flew to the rice stalks to eat the seeds. + +In the spring the women, boys, and old men spent weeks at the sugar +camp. They caught the maple sap in small bark dishes and boiled it +into sugar. The boys kept the fires going under the kettles and, for +the first few days, ate nearly all the sugar they made. + +Many kinds of berries grew in this northern country. These the Indian +women picked and dried. Indeed, the underground storehouse of a +wigwam housekeeper was full of good things to eat. + +Hiawatha is said to have lived on the shore of one of the Great Lakes. +Before the white men sold fire water to the Indians, there were many +happy homes in the forest. The ways of living were the same as we read +about in Longfellow's poem, and the children were trained to be brave +and honorable and to respect their elders. + +The boys were trained in woodcraft. They learned the names and habits of +wild animals. They could find their way alone through dense forests; and +they could see farther and hear better than any boys we know. + +The girls were taught by their mothers to be modest and industrious. +They made beautiful beadwork to trim dresses and moccasins. They could +set up a wigwam, prepare food, and keep a clean and orderly home. + +This little book tells how children lived and played long ago in the +wild-rice country. Their tribe was then at peace with the fierce +Indians farther west. A few men of the village had traveled north with +furs, but the children had never seen a white man. + +The old-time life of the Indians is ended. But there are camps in the +unsettled lands of the wild-rice region where many strange customs can +still be seen; where the Indian drum is heard, and the women gather +wild rice as in the olden time. + + + + +STORIES AND STORY-TELLERS + + +The Indians of long ago had no books and no schools; but each tribe +had its story-tellers, who went from one wigwam to another. Everywhere +they were welcomed by old and young and begged to return. + +The stories were told and retold by their hearers until learned. +Indian mothers quieted their fretful little ones by stories and songs +just as other mothers have always done. + +The Indian stories are strange, and some are very beautiful. There are +wonderful tales of the sun, moon, and stars; of animals and birds and +trees; of the thunder and the lightning and the winds. + +Through stories the children learned the strange beliefs of their +parents. They were taught to call the sun their father and the moon +their mother, and all the animals and birds their brothers. + +The Indians believed that good and bad spirits were all around them on +the earth and above them in the sky. + +They thought that animals and birds could talk, and that they listened +to everything which was said in the wigwams. + +Tales of fearless hunters and brave warriors made the boys wish to +become as brave as their fathers. Tales of the men that had brought +great good to their people led the children to hope that they, too, +might sometime bring blessings to their tribe. + +The children learned that their fathers worshiped the Great Spirit, and +that no warrior ever went on the warpath without offering many prayers. + +They were taught that many of their dances were thank offerings to the +Great Spirit, and that the war dance was for success in battle. + +In winter evenings the Indians gathered around the wigwam fire. This +was their only light. The fathers and grandfathers told wonderful +stories of war and hunting, and related the old tales they had heard +when they were children. + +[Illustration] + +Night after night the boys were drilled in repeating the stories they +had heard. The whole family listened attentively, helping all, and +praising the one who did the best. + +Special training was given to the boys of the tribe who showed the most +talent. They were carefully prepared to take the places of the older +story-tellers, for the tribal tales must never be lost nor forgotten. + +The Indian belief that animals can talk is shown in many of their best +stories. Here is one about the birds. + +[Illustration] + + + + +WELCOME TO A PAPOOSE + +[Illustration] + + +Little Wren flies here and there about the village of wigwams. She is +the news gatherer for the bird council. + +She peers into the tent openings and listens to the talk of the +mothers. She flits about the trees where children play. + +When a little son is born, she carries the news to the birds, and they +are sad. "Alas, alas!" they cry. "We hear the whistle of his arrow. +The boy will grow, and he will shoot us with his bow and arrows." + +But when the wren chatters about the coming of a baby girl, the birds +chirp merrily. They sing of the grains she will scatter when she +grinds the corn into meal. + +They sing of the wild rice she will let drop when she comes with her +loaded canoe from the rice harvest. "Sing merrily, sing merrily," they +say. "Another woman child has come to feed us!" + +The cricket hops in the wigwam. And the cricket is glad when the baby +is a girl. "I shall hide among the floor mats and sing where she +plays," he chirps. + +But the cricket is sad when the baby is a boy. "He will shoot me, he +will shoot me!" chirps the cricket. For, as soon as the boy is old +enough, he will be given a tiny bow; and he will fit the sharp arrow +and shoot the cricket and the grasshopper. + +The woodpecker welcomes the girl baby. He sings of the wood worms he +will find when the girl goes with her mother for wood. For the women +of the wigwam break the dry branches for the fire, and the wood worms +fall from their hiding places. + +But the raven rejoices at the sight of the boy baby in his cradle. "My +food, my food!" he croaks. A hunter has come to the camp. He will +shoot the rabbit and the squirrel and the deer; and food for the +hungry ravens will be left where his arrows fall. + +The Indian father rejoices when he looks at his son. "May he grow to +be a brave hunter and a fearless warrior." Such is the Indian's wish. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE INDIAN BABY AND HER CRADLE + + +Why is the happy song of the robin heard beside the lodge? Why chirps +the cricket so merrily? + +Can you not guess? There is a new daughter in the wigwam. Another wood +gatherer and fire maker has come to the tribe. + +"Bring the new cradle, Nokomis. Let me have the beautiful cradle I +have made for my little daughter." And Good Bird, the mother, points +with pride to a strange-looking object that is not at all like the +cradle your baby sleeps in. + +A straight board leans against the inner lining of the lodge. To one +side of it is fastened a white doeskin bag which is trimmed with +beautiful fringes and beadwork. Can this be a baby's cradle? + +Nokomis, the grandmother, opens the bag, which is laced down the +middle with colored strings. She makes a bed of soft moss upon the +hard board and lays the papoose very straight in its little frame. + +Laced and bound, this strange cradle is hung to the top of the lodge. +A bow of curved wood protects the baby's head from injury, should the +cradle fall. + +As the little papoose swings gently, the Indian mother sings a +lullaby, and this is the one she often sings: + + "Wa wa--wa wa--wa wa yea, + Swinging, swinging, lullaby. + Sleep thou, sleep thou, sleep thou. + Little daughter, lullaby. + Wa wa--wa wa--wa wa." + +Slower and slower swings the cradle and the black eyes close in sleep. + +"What shall we name the little one?" asks the mother. + +Nokomis stands in the door of the wigwam. Through the trees she sees the +blue water of the lake. White clouds are moving rapidly across the sky. + +"White Cloud shall be her name," answers Nokomis. + +Good Bird, the mother, smiles and nods. As she watches the cradle, she +talks to the sleeping child. + +"My little woman, you shall be a fire maker and a lodge keeper like +your mother. You shall help me tan the skins for clothing. I will +teach you to make beautiful dresses and trim them with beadwork and +quills. Your father and your brother will be proud to wear the +moccasins you make. + +"You shall go with me to the lake when the rice is ready to harvest. +Together we will hunt the wild berries and the nuts. You shall be your +mother's helper, my little daughter, White Cloud." + + + + +WHITE CLOUD'S FIRST RIDE + + +White Cloud, the baby daughter of Good Bird, is having her first ride +out of doors. Do you think she is in a baby buggy like your little +sister's? Or do you suppose her mother draws her in a tiny cart? + +You can never guess unless you know how Indian mothers contrive to take +their babies with them when they are carrying heavy loads. White Cloud +is laced in her strange cradle and bound securely to her mother's back. + +On the bent strip of board that arches over the head of the cradle are +fastened playthings made of carved wood and bone. The bright toys +jingle and rattle, and the baby laughs. + +To-day the little arms and hands are firmly laced inside the beaded +bag. So the child can not reach out and play with the noisy images as +she loves to do. + +Laced, bound, and protected, the baby is safe even when her mother +pushes through the thickest forest. + +[Illustration] + +The boys, who run everywhere, have brought good news to the camp. "The +June berries are ripe in the forest," they say. So the mothers are +starting with children and bags for the berry picking. + +It is not yet sunrise; but it is the custom of the Indians to rise +early. The men, with bows and arrows, knives and spears, have already +gone away to their daily business--the hunt. + +The older lads are with their fathers, and the little boys have begun a +long summer's day of shouting, swimming, mud throwing, and mischief. +Among them is White Cloud's brother, a sturdy boy of four years. + +Here and there are old men sitting in front of their lodges and +smoking their long pipes. Inside, the grandmothers are busy preparing +food and dressing skins for clothing. + +Most of the women, like Good Bird, carry their babies and berry sacks +upon their backs; but some of them have large dogs trained as burden +carriers. + +Here comes Two Joys, the mother of twins. She is followed by a pair of +dogs, each dragging a strapping brown baby boy. + +One by one, the women and girls wade the streams and climb the hills, +following the trail that leads to the forest. There they separate, +each to make her own choice of bushes. + +White Cloud's mother chooses a thicket where the berries are large and +abundant. She fastens her baby's cradle to the top of a low tree. The +wind swings the cradle, and, like the Mother Goose baby, the Indian +papoose rocks on the tree top. Let us hope that the bough will not +break. + +The birds chirp and sing in the branches. A squirrel comes near to see +what strange object is hanging in his tree. The baby wakes and cries +with fright, and the squirrel scampers away. + +Good Bird is filling her bags of woven grass with purple berries. She +does not pick them as we do, but breaks off long branches loaded with +fruit. Then, with a heavy stick, she beats the branch and the berries +fall on a large skin that is spread on the ground. + +For dinner Good Bird has only dried meat and the sweet, juicy berries. +But she does not think of wishing for more. + +At last the ripe fruit is gathered. The baby is fretting, and the +mother takes the cradle from the tree top. She unlaces the bag and +lays the little one on the warm grass. + +Now the fruit must be packed and tied and the large skin be rolled +up. While the mother works the child grows restless and cries. You can +never guess why. She is asking in baby language to be put back on her +stiff board! + +Very soon Good Bird is ready and, with the cradle and bags strapped to +her back, she starts for home. Other berry pickers loaded with fruit +join her, and together they walk the trail that leads back to the camp. + +Nokomis is watching for the baby. She lifts the cradle and hangs it to +the lodge pole. The little one is restless. She turns her head from +side to side, her black eyes shining. + +Then the grandmother sings the owl song in which Indian babies delight: + + "Ah wa nain, ah wa nain, + Who is this, who is this, + Giving light, light bringing + To the roof of my lodge?" + +The singer changes her voice to imitate a little screech owl and +answers: + + "It is I--the little owl-- + Coming + Down! down! down!" + +As she sings, she springs toward the baby and down goes the little +head. How the papoose laughs and crows! Again Nokomis sings: + + "Who is this, eyelight bringing, + To the roof of my lodge? + It is I, hither swinging-- + Dodge, baby, dodge." + +Over and over the lullaby is sung, now softer and now slower. The +eyelids droop, and the little one is quiet. + + + + +NOKOMIS TELLS A STORY + + +Good Bird had prepared the evening meal, but no one came to eat it. +Her husband, Fleet Deer, was late in returning from the hunt, and her +little son was still shouting and running with his boy playmates. + +The tired baby slept, and the two women sat outside the wigwam in the +warm June evening. + +"Now that I have a little daughter, I must learn all your stories, +Nokomis," said Good Bird. "Suppose you tell one while we wait." + +"I heard a new one last moon," answered Nokomis. "Our village +story-teller has traveled far from our camp. He visited another tribe +and heard all their stories. I will tell you the tale he told about +the first strawberries: + +"In the very earliest times a young girl became so angry one day that +she ran away from home. Her family followed her, calling and +grieving; but she would not answer their calls, nor even turn her head. + +[Illustration] + +"The great sun looked down with pity from the sky and tried to settle +the quarrel. First he caused a patch of ripe blueberries to grow in +her path. + +"The girl pushed her way through the low bushes without stooping to +pick a berry. + +"Further on the sun made juicy blackberries grow by the trail, but the +runaway paid no attention to them. + +"Then low trees laden with the purple June berry tempted her, but +still she hurried on. + +"Every kind of berry that the sun had ever helped to grow, he placed +in her path to cause delay, but without success. + +"The girl still pressed on until she saw clusters of large ripe +strawberries growing in the grass at her feet. + +"She stooped to pick and to eat. Then she turned and saw that she was +followed. + +"Forgetting her anger, she gathered the clusters of ripe, red berries +and started back along the path to share them with her family. + +"Then she went home as if nothing had ever happened!" + + + + +THE FIREFLY DANCE + + +It is a summer evening. There is no moon, and the stars twinkle +brightly in the sky. A half circle of Indian lodges fronts a small +lake. Wide meadows slope to its shores. + +All the air is alive with lights, twinkling, whirling, sparkling. +Thousands of fireflies are swarming above the grass. + +The meadow is full of Indian boys and girls, little and big, dancing +the firefly dance. Advancing and retreating, turning and twisting, +bowing and whirling, they imitate the moving lights about them and +above them. + +In front of the lodges sit the warriors and the squaws looking on. + +Good Bird is watching every move of her son. He is one of the most +active dancers on the field. + +"Look, Nokomis!" she says, "No boy is straighter than your grandson, +and there is no better dancer." + +[Illustration] + +Fleet Deer says nothing, but he is thinking of the time when his son +will take part in the war dance of his tribe. + +Little White Cloud stands by her mother. She has known three winters +and is now a chubby, pretty little Indian girl. + +Suddenly she begins to imitate her brother. She throws out her tiny +brown arms, turns round and round, jumps and bows, while Nokomis and +Good Bird shout with laughter. + +Listen! the children are singing. What do they say? It is the song of +the fireflies that we hear. + +Nokomis has chanted the same words and melody for many a lullaby, and +she keeps time, singing the same song: + + "Wau wau tay see, wau wau tay see, + Flitting white fire insect, + Waving white fire bug, + Give me light before I go to bed, + Give me light before I go to sleep! + Come, little dancing white fire bug, + Come, little flitting white fire beast, + Light me with your bright white flame, + Light me with your little candle." + + + + +SWIFT ELK, THE INDIAN BOY + + +Four years have passed since the summer evening when Good Bird watched +her children in the firefly dance. Her son, Swift Elk, is now a tall, +straight lad of eleven winters. His sister, four years younger, is a +sturdy little girl, already able to help her mother in many ways. + +The boy is the pride of the lodge. From his earliest babyhood he has +been trained to be strong and fearless. + +"Lay him very straight," his father used to say when the baby boy was +placed on his cradle board. "Do not make his bed too soft. My son must +grow tall and strong, for he will sometime be a great warrior." + +Since he could first walk he has gone with his father each day to the +lake to take an early morning bath. Like all Indians, he learned to +swim when he was very small, and he loves to splash and dive and play +in the water. + +Do you suppose that Swift Elk dresses himself after his bath? He does +not think clothing at all necessary except in winter. + +Does he help his mother in her work about the lodge? Never! "A boy does +not do squaw's work," he says. "A boy must learn to hunt and shoot." + +Is he not made to mind? Is he never punished? Oh, no; he will be a +great warrior some day, and his father says he ought not to be afraid +of any one. And so he lives the wild, free life of the Indian boy. He +spends his day in play, with no school, no lessons, and no work to do. + +When the father is at home he teaches the boy to notice very carefully +everything he sees. He must learn the names of plants and birds. He +must know the habits of animals and how to hunt them. Above +everything, he must be brave and daring. + +While the men are away hunting, the younger boys spend the day +shooting, fishing, swimming, and playing games. If they wish to throw +mud balls at each other, no one scolds them for being dirty. But if +one of them whimpers or cries, his companions will not let him play. +So the Indian boy learns early in life to bear pain without complaint. + +Swift Elk's father made a little bow and arrow for his son as soon as +he was old enough to run out of the wigwam. Each summer he received a +larger bow and more destructive arrows. + +Wherever the boy goes he carries his weapon, and he is always watching +for the chance to shoot a bird, rabbit, squirrel, or any wild animal. + +How his mother and grandmother praise him when he brings home game! +"You will be a great hunter," they say. "Soon you will be able to go +with your father to shoot bear and deer." + +Swift Elk sleeps on a bed of cedar boughs covered with skins. As the +first-born son, he has the place of honor. His bed is next to his +father's, close against the inner lining of the lodge, and nearly +opposite the entrance. + +This is the boy's own place, and he is allowed to decorate it as he +wishes. Birds' wings, feathers, and squirrels' tails show his skill in +hunting. + +[Illustration] + +Here he keeps nearly everything that he owns. He has hung his bow and +arrows on the lodge pole above his bed. His snowshoes, tops, and balls +are in a bag of skin high above the reach of baby hands. + +Swift Elk looks forward to the time when he shall be admitted to the +councils of his tribe and take part in their dances and yearly feasts. + +Like other Indian children, he has been trained to count time by +winters, moons, and sleeps, and so he does not know his exact age. He +has never heard of keeping birthdays; but he has had many feasts given +in his honor, which are the same to him as a party would be to you. + +When an Indian boy wins a game which requires great skill, or shows +himself brave in time of danger, his companions shout his praises. + +They go with him to the door of his lodge, telling of the brave deed +he has performed. Then they sing and dance in his honor. + +It is expected that the women of the lodge will show their pleasure by +giving each boy some dainty from the stores of food packed away for +feasts. + +On the day that Swift Elk first shot a rabbit his father gave a feast +for him, inviting all his relatives. But the most important +celebration of his whole life was when he won a victory in racing and +received his name. + + + + +THE NAMING OF SWIFT ELK + + +Unlike their sisters, Indian boys are seldom named in babyhood. Some +are known only as the sons of their fathers. Others bear the nicknames +given by their companions. But often a boy's name is decided upon by +reason of some important action of his own. + +For the first few years of Swift Elk's life he was spoken of as the +son of Fleet Deer. When he was quite small, he stood, one evening, +watching the older boys race. They ran in couples, their companions +standing on either side of the race course. There were yells of joy +for the victors, and jeers and howls for those who were so unlucky as +to trip or stumble in the way. + +A young hunter standing near noticed the shining eyes of the little +watcher and shouted, "Give the younger boys a chance!" And so the son +of Fleet Deer was started in the race with a boy of his own size. + +Once, twice, thrice, did the eager child outrun his playmate amid +shouts and laughter. His little feet seemed to fly over the ground. + +"He is as swift as a young elk," said the bystanders. And before the +racing was ended, the child was called again to the trial of speed, +this time with an older lad. Again he was first at the goal. + +"He will be a runner like his father," said the warriors who had come +near to watch the sports of their children. + +Fleet Deer, when a young man, was the fastest runner in his tribe. And +now his little son had won a race and the father was proud. He walked +slowly toward his lodge and entered the curtained opening. + +"Prepare a feast in honor of our son," he said to Good Bird, his wife. + +Standing in front of his wigwam, he called in a loud voice the names +of his brothers and kinsmen in the camp. + +[Illustration] + +They came, one by one, entered the low doorway, and were seated in a +circle close to the inner wall of the wigwam, some on the low beds and +some on mats. + +Nokomis and Good Bird passed to each a wooden dish containing meat, +dried berries, parched rice, and maple sugar. + +There were many prayers and much smoking of the long pipe which was +passed from host to guest. Then Fleet Deer led his son to the middle +of the wigwam. The child's face and body were painted, and his long +hair was braided and wound around his head. + +"You have seen my son outrun his playmates," said the father. "You +know that he has taken the honors of victory from a companion that is +older and larger. One and another who watched the race have said that +my son is like a young elk in his running. + +"I was but a lad, my kinsmen, when your former chief, my father, gave +me the name I bear. He has taken the long journey to the land of +spirits. Will you agree that his grandson bear the name of Swift Elk?" + +The warriors gravely bowed their heads in approval. Again the pipe was +passed, and the smoke curled and rose in the lodge. + +Swift Elk, the grandson of a great chief, had earned his name. + + + + +FIRE AND THE FIRE MAKERS + + +"Are you going away, Grandmother? Take me with you." + +"I am on my way to the forest, White Cloud. It will be a long walk for +you. We need dry moss and decayed wood for tinder. Some cold morning +we shall wake and find no red coals in the ashes. Then we shall need +some pieces of the driest of wood to kindle a new fire." + +"Let me go, and I will help you look for dry wood. I know I am big +enough to be a fire maker. Haven't I seen seven winters?" + +So Nokomis and White Cloud started on the trail that led to the wild +forest. There great trees had died and fallen, and the branches had +been decaying for many moons--no one can tell how many. + +"Is the fire always lost when we move our camp, Grandmother?" + +"Not always. Some lodge keepers try to carry a few coals, and the one +who succeeds is glad to share with others. But one person is often +sent ahead to the new camp to make a central fire out of doors. You +know it takes a long time to get a spark by rubbing two sticks +together." + +"How did the Indians get fire in the first place? And how did fire get +into wood?" asked White Cloud. + +"I will tell you, my child. I have heard all about it from the +story-tellers. + +"Once there was only one fire in all the world. It was kept in a +sacred wigwam and guarded by an old blind man. + +"All the Indians had heard about fire and wanted very much to get it. +But no one knew where it was hidden. + +"The old man had two daughters who gathered his wood. He used only the +driest branches, so that no smoke could be seen, and no odor from the +burning of green boughs be lifted to the wind. + +"But one day a tiny, curling wreath of smoke rose above the lodge +opening. + +"Of course the birds saw it, and flew over the lodge poles until they +discovered the secret. You may be sure that they chirped the news +wherever they flew. + +"A woodpecker went into a hole in a tree to carry his mate some food +and told her where fire was kept. He was overheard by a squirrel +running up the tree trunk. + +"'Chip, chip! chatter, chatter! Hear the squirrels in the tree tops,' +said a rabbit. 'What are they talking about?' By listening he soon +found out. + +"Then Bruin heard the rabbits, and the bear teased the wolf by letting +him know that the birds had a great secret. + +"A flock of sparrows settled in front of the wolf's den, and the wolf +soon heard all he wanted to know. He, in turn, told a dog that +sometimes ran with him at night. + +"Of course the dog told the boy he loved best, and so the Indians +found out where fire was hidden. + +"'We must have fire,' they said. 'Who will get it for us?' + +"At last Manabush said that he would try to get fire for his tribe. + +"Manabush was a daring young Indian hunter. Like Hiawatha, he spent his +life trying to help his people. He saw how fire was needed to warm the +lodges in winter, and to cook the raw meat freshly killed in the hunt. + +"So Manabush made a birch canoe and started across the great lake. +When he reached land he pulled his light canoe out of the water and +carried it on his back to a near-by thicket. Then he changed himself +into a rabbit and hopped away into the long grass. + +"Soon there came up a great storm. The old man guarded the sacred fire +with the utmost care until the rain was over. Then he went to sleep +near the glowing coals. + +"His daughters came out of the lodge to look at the sky. As they bent +down to enter the low door, they saw a little rabbit lying on the +grass. His fur was wet, and he was trembling with cold. + +"One of the daughters carried him in and laid him down where it was +warm. The rabbit hopped nearer the fire. + +"The old man started from his sleep. 'What do I hear?' he asked. + +"'You have heard nothing, Father. We picked up a little wet rabbit and +brought him in to dry.' + +"The old man closed his eyes again. His daughters turned and went on +with their work. Quickly the rabbit seized a burning stick and hopped +away by leaps and bounds. + +"Up jumped the old man. 'My fire, my sacred fire, is stolen!' he +cried. His daughters ran out of the lodge to chase the thief. + +"But the old blind man thought that someone was in the wigwam. So he +snatched a long stick and pounded so hard on every side that he beat +some of the fire into a log. This is the way that fire came to be in +wood." + +[Illustration] + +"What did the rabbit do, Grandmother?" + +"He ran to the canoe, changed back to a man, put the fire in a magic +bag, and paddled as fast as he could to his own camp. + +"There he lighted a pile of wood for his grandmother, and then hurried +away to the Thunderers. They have kept the sacred fire for the Indians +since that day." + +"Who are the Thunderers, Grandmother?" asked White Cloud. + +"After we have had our dinner I will tell you the story. Now we will +use some of our dry wood and make a fire." + +"Can I learn to get the fire out of wood?" asked White Cloud. + +"You will need to try again and again, for it is not an easy task. +Watch me, my child, and see how it is done." + +Nokomis soon had a pile of dry grass and twigs. Then she rubbed two +pieces of wood together for a long time. At last a spark flew from the +dry wood and the grass was lighted. + +Meat and birds' eggs were soon roasted in the hot ashes. After the +meal Nokomis and White Cloud started for home, each with a bundle of +wood strapped to her back. + +"Now I'm ready for the story you promised me," said White Cloud. + + + + +THE THUNDERERS + + +"Far in the east, above the sky, the great Thunderer lives with his +two sons. They are the friends of the whole world. When you hear their +voices be glad, for they are bringing the gift of rain. + +"In the spring they come from their sky home with the showers that +make the grass grow and the little plants peep out of the ground. + +"They water the earth; and the corn comes up, the sap flows for our +sugar, the trees open their leaves and blossoms, and the berries ripen. + +"Without their help every growing plant would turn brown and fade away. +The wild rice and the sugar trees would die. Animals would search in +vain for food, and they would crawl into their dens and perish. + +"There would be no game for the hunter to shoot. Then the terrible +famine spirits would enter our lodges, and we would sicken and die. + +"We should never fear the loud voices of the Thunderers, for they are +always good and kind. + +"They are the war chiefs of the world. When we see the rainbow, we +catch a glimpse of the splendid robes they wear. + +"In the middle of their great lodge burns the sacred fire, which they +guard for all the people of the earth." + +"I will never be afraid again when I hear them speaking," said White +Cloud. "But I like to be in the lodge when they bring their rain +storms. If they come to-day perhaps we can find a cave in the hills +our trail crosses." + +"It would not be safe for us to enter a cave in the forest," replied +Nokomis. "The Little People might be in it, and they would be +displeased." + + + + +THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE FOREST + + +"And now," said White Cloud, "I want to hear all about the Little +People." + +"Speak low, White Cloud. We are coming to the rocky hillside. We must +listen, for we may hear them drumming." + +"I wish we could! We would run and try to see them." + +"It would be far better for us to turn and run the other way. The +Little People do not like to be disturbed. If they should see us, they +might cast a spell on us." + +"What harm would that do us?" asked the child. + +"We would forget where we are going and who we are. We might wander in +the woods until we starved, for we could never find the trail home." + +"How do the Little People look, and what do they do? Does anyone know?" + +"They are handsome little men, smaller than the tiniest babies. By +daylight they drum and dance, for they are very fond of music. + +[Illustration] + +"If they are not disturbed, they are very kind and helpful, especially +to those who are in trouble. They do not like to be seen, and will +never work if a man or woman, or even a child, is in sight. + +"Sometimes they come to the cornfield when it is very dark. If they are +heard, no Indian goes out of the lodge. Often the field will be found +well weeded in the morning and the earth loose about the growing plants. + +"Once, in the moon of ripe corn, there was a woman alone with a sick +child. She heard the Little People near her lodge, and she remembered +to be very quiet. In the morning her corn was all picked for her. + +"If a hunter finds an arrow near the cornfield, he must say very loud: +'Little People, will you let me have this arrow?' for it may have been +shot from their bows. + +"If he takes it without asking, he may be hit with stones as he is +walking home." + +"Tell me about the boy who was changed into a hunter spirit," said +White Cloud. + +"There was once a boy," began Nokomis, "who ran away from home. He +grew smaller and smaller until he became like the spirits of the woods. + +"But he is full of mischief. You can sometimes tell what he is doing, +although he himself is never seen. + +"Have you not noticed your dog jump up quickly from the place where he +has been sleeping? The spirit of the runaway boy is whipping him with +nettles. + +"You will often see a flock of birds suddenly leave their food and fly +away. The little hunter spirit has frightened them. + +"When the tired hunter stops, far from his lodge, to roast his meat, +the little mischief-maker blows out his fire and fans the smoke into +his eyes. + +"He catches the arrows which are aimed at the birds and hides them. He +puts slippery clay in the path and laughs when the children fall. No +one can tell all his tricks of mischief." + +"Grandmother, look! Here is an arrow on the ground." + +"Let it be. We will not annoy the spirits. Now we must hurry home, for +the clouds darken and I can hear the loud voices of the Thunderers +starting out from their sky home." + + + + +BLACK WOLF TELLS A STORY + + +The boys were practicing with their bows and arrows. After a few +trials, in which little skill was shown, Swift Elk threw down his bow. +"I'm tired of shooting," he said. "Come on, boys, let's go to the lake +for a swim." + +Black Wolf, the oldest warrior of the tribe, was sitting on the ground +near by, watching the sport. + +"Do not give up," said the old man. "You are a big boy now. Only by +skill in shooting can you become a brave warrior. Let no one know you +are tired or weak. Remember the boy who was changed to the lone +lightning of the North." + +"Tell us the story," Swift Elk begged. "Then we will practice again +and do our best." + +The boys threw themselves on the ground near Black Wolf, and he began +the story. + +"There was once a little boy who had no one to care for him. His father +had been killed in war, and his mother taken captive by the enemy. + +"Minno, the lonely boy, lived in his uncle's wigwam, but he was not +wanted there. He had hard work to do and very little to eat. + +"He was too weak to join the rough games of his playmates, and he did +not become skillful with his bow and arrows like the other boys of the +tribe. + +"At last he became so thin from hunger that the uncle feared his cruel +treatment would become known. + +"So he told his wife to feed the boy with bear's meat. 'Give him +plenty of fat,' he ordered. 'Cram him with bear's fat.' It was now the +uncle's plan to kill the boy by overfeeding. + +"One day when Minno had been nearly choked with fat meat, he ran away. +He wandered about in the woods, and when night came he was afraid of +the wild beasts. So he climbed into a tall tree and fell asleep in +the branches. + +"In his dreams a person came to him from the upper sky and said: 'My +poor little lad, I pity you. Follow me, and be sure to step in my +tracks.' + +"So the lad arose and followed his guide up, up, into the upper sky. +There he was given twelve magic arrows and told to shoot the manitoes +of the North. + +"'They are the evil spirits of the air,' said his guide. 'You must go +to war against them. I have given you magic arrows that will kill them +if your aim is true.' + +"The boy placed an arrow with great care, but failed to kill a manito. +One, two, three, four, five, six arrows had left his bow, each leaving +behind it a long streak of lightning. But not one had reached its mark. + +"Carefully he aimed; seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. Alas! his skill +was not equal to his task. + +[Illustration] + +"Long he held the twelfth arrow. He looked around on every side. The +evil spirits had wonderful power, and they could change their forms in +a moment. + +"The boy let his last arrow fly toward the heart of the chief of the +manitoes. But the evil spirit saw it coming and changed himself into a +rock. + +"'How dare you try to kill me!' cried the angry manito. 'Now you shall +suffer. You shall evermore be like the trail of your arrow.' + +"And he changed the boy into the lone lightning which you so often +see, my children, in the northern sky." + +"I wish I could shoot as well as I can run," Swift Elk said. "It is +easy to win in the races, but I can never beat in a shooting match." + +"You can if you will practice more than the other boys. You remember +how the crane beat the humming bird in a race." + +"Tell us about it, tell us," begged all the boys. "Then we will shoot +our arrows all day long until the sun hides his face." + +The old man was silent for a time. Then he said, "I will tell you just +one more story. And you shall keep your word and practice until the +darkness creeps over the earth." + + + + +THE RACE BETWEEN THE CRANE AND THE HUMMING BIRD + +[Illustration] + + +The crane dared the humming bird to a race. The humming bird was as +swift as an arrow, but the crane flew slowly. + +At the word they both started. The humming bird was far ahead and he +stopped to roost on a limb; but the crane flew all night. + +The humming bird woke in the morning, thinking it would be no trouble +to win the race. He was very much surprised when he passed the crane +spearing fish for his breakfast! + +"How did the Slow One get ahead?" he thought. "I must start earlier +in the morning." He flew swiftly until dusk, when he stopped to roost +on a tree. + +The crane flew all night. Before morning he was again ahead, and he +had finished his breakfast when the Swift One passed him. + +"This is indeed strange," thought the humming bird. "But I can fly a +little faster, and it will be no trouble to win." So he stopped again, +far ahead, to take his usual sleep. + +The crane flew all night, as usual. He passed the sleeping humming +bird at midnight and was well on his way before he was overtaken. The +humming bird flew as long as he could see, and before midnight he was +again ahead. + +Each night the humming bird slept. Each night the crane flew. "Gaining +a little; gaining a little!" he said to himself. + +Later and later in the day did the Swift One pass the Slow One. +Earlier and earlier in the night did the Slow One pass the Swift One. + +On the last day of the race the crane was a night's travel ahead. He +took his time at breakfast. The humming bird passed him at sundown and +stopped to sleep. + +The next morning the humming bird flew like the wind and reached the +goal early in the day. But there stood the heavy crane waiting, for he +had flown all night! + + + + +HUNTING WILD DUCKS + + +Swift Elk had sharpened his arrows and taken his strongest bow from +the wooden peg over his bed. + +"I have seen wild ducks flying by the lake," he said. "I am going to +hide in the long grass and watch for them. If they come again, they +shall feel my arrows. To-night we eat roast duck." + +The boy ran toward the lake. His sister, White Cloud, watched him +until he was out of sight. "Why can't girls go hunting?" she said. "I +have seen seven winters. I shall follow his trail." + +The child ran along, hiding behind trees and bushes, and stepping +softly so that no broken twig could tell of her approach. + +Indian children can see farther and hear far better than we can. +Although the old-time Indian never went to school, yet he trained his +children to listen to every sound in the forest, and to notice all +signs of animal life. + +When White Cloud was near the lake, she hid in a clump of bushes and +watched. Just in sight was a little stream winding through the low +meadow. + +She saw Swift Elk run along its banks. She waited without +moving--waited as only an Indian child knows how to wait. + +At last, far off, she saw a speck in the sky, then another and +another. The specks grew larger. She held her breath. + +A flock of wild ducks flew across the lake. Near the shore they turned +and flew over the low meadow where the boy hunter was hiding in the +high grass. + +Suddenly the swift arrows flew. One, two, three, four ducks were hit +and fell to the ground. Swift Elk picked up three and swung them over +his shoulder. + +He looked a long time for the fourth duck. Then, seeing another flock +approaching, he ran toward the lake shore. + +Again he was fortunate in choosing the place of their approach. White +Cloud saw more arrows fly, and more ducks fall. Swift Elk ran on out +of sight. + +Then the little girl crawled from her hiding-place and crept along the +ground in search of the missing duck. Surely there was something +stirring in the long grass ahead. Almost afraid to move, the child +crept closer and closer, until she saw a duck with a broken wing +hanging useless by its side. + +In a moment she had caught it. She held the bird in her arms until its +struggles ceased. Then she bound its wing to its body with long pieces +of grass. + +She crawled to the stream and dropped water in its bill. The duck +swallowed the water but refused all food. + +White Cloud watched every movement in the distance, not daring to +stand lest Swift Elk return. So she worked her way, concealed by high +grass, to the home trail. + +How she ran until she reached the low wigwam built for her dolls! Here +she made a soft bed for the wounded bird. She smoothed its feathers +and talked to it. How happy she was when she was able to coax the duck +to eat the food she offered! + +Swift Elk came home at night with all the game he could carry. His +mother praised his hunting, and his father was pleased because he had +passed the entire day alone and without a mouthful of food. + +"You must endure hunger and thirst, cold and heat, danger and pain, if +you would become a great warrior," said his father. "And you must find +your way alone through the forest for miles and miles, listening every +moment for the footsteps of an enemy or the approach of a wild beast." + +A fire had been made in front of the lodge. The ducks were buried, +feathers and all, in the hot ashes. White Cloud brought wild berries +and water from the spring. As soon as the birds were roasted the +feathers and skins were pulled off and the hungry boy enjoyed his meal. + +But White Cloud watched her chance to carry part of her own food to +the duck. How she hated to leave him when the dark came on! But she +fastened the shelter securely, hoping that no lurking fox or weasel +would force his way inside. + +The next morning White Cloud was up before her brother. She hid in the +tiny lodge, to protect her pet until Swift Elk had left for the day. + +The duck soon became so tame that it followed her wherever she went. +The difficulty in taming the wild creature, and the constant danger of +losing it, led the child to be as kind and patient with her pet as an +Indian mother is with her papoose. + +One day Good Bird was roasting deer meat. She had made a hot fire in +front of the lodge. Sticks sharpened at both ends were driven in the +ground close to the bed of coals. The sticks were bent toward the +fire, and each one held a large piece of raw meat. + +[Illustration] + +When the meat was tender, Good Bird called her little daughter. "My +father is old," she said. "He can no longer hunt. Take some of this +roast meat to him." + +White Cloud took the dish and went to her grandfather's lodge, the +duck waddling behind her. After the old man had eaten, White Cloud +said, "Grandfather, do you know any stories about ducks?" + +"Point to the north, my grandchild, and tell me who live in the land +of ice and snow." + +"North Wind and Old Winter," answered the child. + +"And what do they do, little one?" + +"They send the game far from my father's arrows. They freeze our food +and try to starve us. North Wind gives the war whoop as he flies in +the forest. + +"Then Old Winter comes like the Indians on the war trail. We cannot +see him, and we cannot hear him. He does not break a twig, and his +footsteps make no sound. He crowds into our lodge, and tries to steal +our fire and freeze us. I wish he would never come again!" + +"We must be brave, my grandchild. We must make ready with food and +firewood to fight his power. I will tell you of a brave little duck +that even North Wind could not conquer." + + + + +A BRAVE DUCK + + +Far to the north lived Wild Duck. His lodge was by the frozen lake. +Winter was beginning, and he had but four logs of wood for his fire. + +"Four logs will do," he said. "Each log will burn for many sleeps, and +then spring will be on the way." + +Wild Duck was as brave as a warrior. On the coldest days he went to +the lake to fish. He found the rushes that grew high above the water. +With his strong bill he pulled up the frozen plant stems. Then he +dived through the holes he had made in the ice and caught the fish +swimming beneath. + +In this way he found plenty of food. Every day he went home to his +lodge dragging strings of fish. North Wind blew his fiercest blasts, +but no wind was cold enough to keep Wild Duck in his wigwam. + +"This is a strange duck!" said North Wind. "He seems as happy as if +it were the moon of strawberries. He is hard to conquer, but I will +freeze him." + +So the wind blew colder and colder, and great drifts of snow were +piled up about the wigwam. But still the fire burned brightly. The +duck went daily to the lake, and daily he brought home fish. + +"Soon I will visit him," said North Wind. "Then he shall feel my power." + +That very night North Wind went to the door of the wigwam. He lifted +the curtain and looked in. + +Wild Duck had cooked his fish and was lying before the bright fire. He +was singing a song to his enemy. + +"You may blow as hard as you can, North Wind," he sang. "I dare you to +freeze me. You may pile the snow to the top of my lodge. I shall climb +the drifts and go fishing just the same." + +"How dare a little duck sing like this about me?" blustered North Wind. +"I will enter. I will blow my cold breath upon him, and he will freeze." + +North Wind pushed his way through the door and sat down on the +opposite side of the lodge. Cold blasts filled the hut. + +Was Wild Duck afraid? He got up and poked the fire, singing his song +louder and louder. Not once did he look at his guest. + +"Does he not know that I am here?" thought North Wind. + +The little duck stirred the great log until it crackled and snapped. + +"I cannot stand this heat," said North Wind to himself. "I am melting. I +must go out." The water was dripping from his hair, and tears ran down +his cheeks. He crept out of the wigwam and left Wild Duck to his songs. + +"What a wonderful duck!" he said. "I cannot freeze him, I cannot even +stop his singing. The spirit of the fire is helping him, and I will +let him alone." + +And to this day you can see the wild duck fishing where the rushes +grow. He is warm in his coat of thick feathers, and North Wind can +never freeze the brave little duck. + +[Illustration] + + + + +SUMMER SPORTS + + +Swift Elk and his companions were cutting great chunks of clay from +the bank near the stream. Soon a crowd of boys, each armed with a +large piece of clay and a long green switch, ran shouting to the +near-by forest. + +Here they divided into two bands for a sham battle, and all hid behind +trees. Balls of clay were pressed on the ends of the slender sticks +and thrown, as you would throw green apples. + +Swift Elk ran out from behind the tree where he had been hiding. +Quickly he threw mud balls at every boy that he saw peeping at him. + +Other boys rushed from their sheltering tree trunks to dare the +opposing forces. A shower of mud balls filled the air. There were +shouts and war whoops, advances and retreats. + +Dogs, barking and jumping, rushed into battle with their masters. + +When the clay was all used, the boys ran to the bank for more. For +half a day the fight went on, many prisoners being taken on both sides. + +Here and there were young braves who had been hit in the face and +badly hurt. One was suffering great pain with a swollen eye. + +Do you think he left the game and ran home? Do you think he cried or +told tales? A boy would rather stand pain than be laughed at by his +companions. "Tears are for girls and women," they had all heard their +fathers say. "A warrior must not notice pain." + +At last, heated and mud-stained, they ran to the lake and jumped in. +You would have thought they all needed a bath, could you have seen them. + +Splashing and swimming, diving and yelling, they continued their +battle by wrestling in the water. The day wore on. One by one, tired +with action, they left the lake. Some lay on the grass, and others +made images of animals with soft clay. + +[Illustration] + +Two or three boys, very hungry, shot some birds, made a fire, and +roasted their game. It mattered not to them that their food was far +from clean. + +Before they went home at night, Swift Elk's band dared the other side +to a ball game, to be played the next morning. + +"Let us ask Black Wolf to watch our game," said Swift Elk. All agreed. +The old warrior could not go on the long hunt or the warpath, and +nothing gave him greater pleasure than to help the boys and young men +in their games of strength or skill. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE BALL GAME + + +Early in the morning the boys met on the level piece of ground that +had been selected for the game. At each end of the field two upright +poles, a little distance apart, were erected for goal sticks. + +In the great ball games played by the men, each side is allowed but +one goal stick, which must be hit by the ball. As this is very +difficult, Black Wolf helped the boys set up two very long sticks, +between which the winner's ball was to be thrown. + +Each player always carries a ball stick bent at one end into a small +hoop or ring. Strips of rawhide are passed through holes in the hoop, +making a netted pocket in which the ball may rest half hidden. + +The one simple rule that each player follows at all times is: "Keep +the ball away from your own goal." Only by sending the ball off the +field between the two goal sticks of the opposite side can victory be +won. + +Swift Elk and Antelope were chosen captains because they were good +runners. All the best players stood in the middle of the field. The +younger boys were grouped about the goal sticks with orders to send +the ball back into the field. + +At a signal from Black Wolf, Antelope tossed the ball into the air. It +was caught by a player on his own side, who started to run in the +opposite direction from his own goal sticks. + +The ball was knocked out of his hand and thrown the other way. Back +and forth it went until Antelope caught it in his ball stick. He +started at full speed toward the goal on Swift Elk's side. + +In a moment he was caught and the ball again turned. Running, +screaming, throwing, pushing, striking each other's arms with ball +sticks, the boys rushed together. + +At last Antelope's side gained the advantage. Nearer and nearer the +ball came to Swift Elk's goal sticks. One strong throw, and the game +would be won. Antelope's players danced and yelled with joy. + +Suddenly a younger boy, one of the poor players who was made to stand +on guard, caught the ball and sent it whizzing toward Swift Elk. + +The other side, sure of success, was taken by surprise. Before +Antelope could turn, Swift Elk had the start and was speeding toward +the opposite goal. + +"Never was there a finer race," Black Wolf thought. All the boys had +crowded together at one end of the line to see the victory, leaving an +open field for the two fleetest runners. + +You would have liked to see the two Indian lads with painted bodies +running like the wind. They were followed by a crowd of boys shouting, +howling, rushing, pushing, and trying in vain to overtake them. + +But not even Antelope could regain the advantage he lost in starting. +Swift Elk swung his stick and sent the ball spinning between the two +poles of the goal. He had won the game for his side. + +After the victors had shouted themselves hoarse, they lay down on the +ground near Black Wolf and asked for a story. + +"I will tell you," said the old man, "of the most wonderful ball game +the world ever saw. It happened long ago when the animals ruled the +land and there were no people on the earth." + + + + +THE ANIMALS AND THE BIRDS PLAY BALL + + +Once the animals dared the birds to play a game of ball with them. The +birds chose the eagle for their captain, and the animals chose the bear. + +They all talked at the same time, trying to make their plans. When +should they play? Where should they play? "Leave that to the eagle and +the bear," said the deer. And all agreed. + +At the appointed time the animals met on a smooth, grassy plain and +the birds in a tree top near by. + +Captain Bear was so large and heavy that he could pull down anyone who +came in his way. All along the trail to the ball ground he tossed up +great logs to show his strength; and he bragged of what he would do to +the birds when the game began. + +The turtle, at that time, was very much larger than he is now. His +shell was so hard that the heaviest blows could not hurt him. + +[Illustration] + +He, too, was a great brag. Again and again he rose on his hind feet +and dropped heavily to the ground. "Look at me," he said. "See how I +will crush any bird that tries to take the ball from me." The swift +deer, the mountain goat, and the rabbit were at their best speed. +Indeed, the animals had a fine team. + +The eagle gathered his forces together. There was the hawk, strong and +swift, and the wild geese that can fly without resting. The black +martin was there and the crow, with a host of other birds. The blue +jay was chosen to scream in the ears of the animal players, and the +humming bird to fly in their eyes. + +The birds looked at the great animals on the field below, and were +afraid. Just then two little things hardly larger than field mice +climbed the tree where sat the bird captain. + +They begged to join the game. + +"You have four feet; why do you not go to the animals, where you +belong?" asked the eagle. + +"We did," said the little things, "but they drove us off because we +are so small." + +"Let them play, let them play," called out the birds in pity. + +But how could they join the birds when they had no wings? The eagle +and the hawk consulted, and it was decided to make wings for the +little fellows. What could they find for wings? + +At last someone remembered the drum they used in their dances. The +head was made of ground-hog skin. So they took the drumhead, cut two +wings, and made the bat. + +Then they threw the ball to him. The bat dodged and circled about, +keeping the ball always in the air; and the birds soon saw that he +would be one of their best men. + +The other little animal came for wings, but there was no more leather. +What could be done? Two birds thought they might enable him to fly by +stretching his skin. Thus was the flying squirrel made. + +To try him, the bird captain threw up the ball. The flying squirrel +sprang off the limb after it, caught it in his teeth, and carried it +to another tree below. + +All were now ready. The signal was given and the game began. At the +first toss the flying squirrel caught the ball and carried it up a +tree. He threw it to the birds, who kept it in the air for some time, +until it dropped. + +The bear rushed to get it, but the martin darted after it and threw +it to the bat. By dodging and doubling, the bat kept it out of the way +of the swift deer. And now the game was close. The great deer could +not turn as quickly as the bat, and so he lost the game. The little +bat threw the ball between the posts and won the victory for the birds. + +And the bear and the turtle, who had done the most bragging, did not +have a chance even to touch the ball. + +For saving the ball when it dropped, the martin was given a gourd to +build his nest in. And he still has it, for you can often see a gourd +on a post near the Indian lodges. + + + + +GATHERING WILD RICE + + +"Have you seen the beautiful new canoe father has just finished?" +asked White Cloud. + +"Seen it! I helped make it," answered Swift Elk. "I cut nearly all the +birch bark." + +"Your father has it ready for the wild-rice harvest," said Good Bird. +"To-day I go to tie the stalks. You are to help me, White Cloud." + +Nothing could have pleased the little girl better. All summer she had +hoped for this great pleasure. From a low hill near her home she had +watched the growth of the rice. + +When the June berries were ripe, the first shoots came up near the +shore of the lake. In a few weeks the rice beds looked like beautiful +green islands in the water. + +And when the yellow-green blossoms opened, she coaxed her father to +take her in his canoe to the rice plants. She picked the flowers, +shaded with reddish purple, and she saw the spreading mass of +blossoms, their straw-colored anthers moving with every breeze. + +Swift Elk was very proud of the new canoe. He had made the paddles, +and had cut the forked sticks that would be needed to force the boat +through the shallow water. + +"When the rice is ripe, I'll go with you and manage the boat," he said +to his mother. "When you come home to-night, White Cloud, bring some +green rice to parch for supper." + +"I'll have some all ready for you," promised his sister. "You shoot a +deer to-day, and to-night we'll have a feast. We'll ask grandfather, +and perhaps he'll tell us a story." + +Soon Good Bird was paddling rapidly toward the rice beds. It was a +beautiful morning, and White Cloud was as happy as any little girl +could ever be. + +For many weeks she had helped her mother prepare the string for tying +the rice stalks. It was cut from the inner bark of the basswood tree. +The narrow bands were wound in a ball so large that the child could +hardly reach around it. + +"Why do you tie the wild rice stalks, Mother?" she asked. + +"So that our little brothers, the birds, can not eat all our grain," +answered Good Bird. "All the bunches we have tied are our own, and +will be more easily harvested. No friendly Indian ever touches the +heads of rice bound together by another." + +With a curved stick Good Bird pulled a mass of stalks within her reach +and bound the heads firmly together with the narrow strips of bark. +For hours she worked, forcing her way through the thick mass of water +plants and tying the stalks on both sides of the canoe. + +"May I come here again with you when the wild rice is ripe?" asked +White Cloud. + +"It will take two strong women to gather the harvest, my child; but +the canoe is very long and I think you can help." + +[Illustration] + +"How is it done, Mother?" asked the child. + +"Swift Elk will sit at one end of the canoe and paddle. Nokomis will +bend the stalks over the boat and untie the long pieces of bark, and I +shall beat the heads with a stick. The grain will fall until the boat +holds as much as it is safe to carry." + +"Are we going to take home any to-day?" asked White Cloud. + +"Oh, yes; when the rice is not quite ripe it is just right for +parching. As soon as my rows are all tied, you shall help me gather +the greenish kernels." + +Good Bird worked until she had used all her string. The long rows of +heads, neatly tied, looked very fine. + +New plants were found, and the stalks beaten with a stick. The rice +fell into the canoe, and White Cloud found it was good to eat even +without cooking. By sunset the bottom of the canoe was covered with +grain, and they started home across the quiet lake. + +"May we have maple sugar with our rice to-night, Mother?" + +"There is very little left, my daughter. I think we would better save +it for winter." + +"When are we going to the sugar trees to make more?" + +"After the winter is nearly over and the first crow comes to tell us +that the sap is flowing. Then we will move to our sugar lodge and stay +for a whole moon." + +"May I take care of a kettle and boil sugar next time we go to the +lodge?" asked White Cloud, "By that time I can count eight winters." + +"You may if you will cut birch bark and make your own sap dishes. You +will need a great many." + +"Why can't we eat the sugar we have, Mother? What is the use of saving +it?" + +"There may be little food on the cold, snowy days that are coming. We +shall need the sugar more then than we do now. Have you forgotten the +story of the ant and the katydid?" + +"Tell it again. Tell it now before we get home, Mother." + +"I think there is time, as it is a short story," said Good Bird. And +White Cloud listened to the tale of the lazy katydid and the +hard-working ant while the canoe moved slowly across the quiet lake. + + + + +THE ANT AND THE KATYDID + + +The oldest ant was building an underground home. Through the long +summer days she worked, carrying out a grain of sand at a time. Then +she filled her storehouse with food for the winter. + +Her work was finished just as the frost came to mow down the growing +plants. All summer the katydid called from the trees, and the locust +danced and buzzed in the sunshine. + +When winter came, the oldest ant was warm and comfortable and she had +enough food for her daily needs. + +But the locust and the katydid were cold and hungry. "Why should we +freeze?" chirped the katydid. "The ant has a warm house." "And why +should we be hungry?" said the locust. "The ant has plenty of food." +So together they went to the home of the oldest ant. + +"Let us in, let us in, kind ant," they cried. "We are cold and hungry." + +"What did you do through the warm weather?" asked the oldest ant. + +"We played in the sunshine. We chirped and buzzed and sang." + +"Did you build no lodge? Could you not store food for the time of +frost and storm?" + +"We had no need to work when the summer was here with its warmth and +beauty. We danced away the happy hours." + +"Go dance away the winter, then," said the oldest ant. "I worked hard +through all the long summer days, and I had no time to dance or sing." + +The locust and the katydid turned away shivering. "It is not fair," +they said, "that the ant has plenty and we have nothing. She should be +forced to let us in." + + + + +HOW WILD RICE WAS DISCOVERED + + +When Good Bird and White Cloud reached home, they found great +rejoicing. Swift Elk had shot his first deer, and the meat was already +roasting by an outdoor fire. + +The hunters had found game in abundance that day, and many feasts were +already called in the village. + +Swift Elk had chosen to invite only his grandparents, and they were +already listening to his story of the hunt. + +White Cloud made haste to parch the rice, and soon a very hungry +family was enjoying the fresh and abundant food. + +After the supper the children asked their grandfather to tell them +stories about wild rice. + +The old man remembered more than one fierce battle for the possession +of the rice fields. Many years had passed since the peace pipe was +last smoked, and the children had lived without being in constant +fear of war. + +"My grandchildren," he said, "I will tell you how rice came to be used +in the earliest times. There are many stories about Manabush, and you +have heard how he wrestled with Mondamin and obtained the gift of corn. + +"In his early youth Manabush lived with his grandmother, who taught +him his duty to his people. + +"One day she said to him: 'My grandson, you are old enough to prove +yourself a man. Before you can become a great warrior you must show +that you are able to endure many hardships without complaint. + +"'Set forth on a long journey alone and without food. Travel through +unknown forests, enduring hunger and thirst. Sleep on the cold ground, +and pray for a vision that shall be your guide through life.' + +"Manabush took his bow and arrows and went out into the forest. He +fasted many days until he became weak and faint from hunger. + +"In his wanderings he drew near the shore of a lake. Great beds of +wild rice filled half its waters, but Manabush did not know that the +seeds were good to eat. + +"As he walked along within reach of the growing plants, he heard a +soft voice say, 'Sometimes they eat us.' + +"'Who is speaking?' he asked. All the bushes that grew so thickly in +the water seemed full of whispers. He looked about and saw birds of +many kinds feeding on the tall grass-like plants. + +"So he picked some of the grain and ate it. 'Oh, but you are good! +What do they call you?' he asked. + +"Again the rustling whispers in the tall grass seemed to say, 'Wild +rice. They call us wild rice!' + +"Manabush waded out into the water and beat the grain from the heads. +So his fast was broken by the new food given in answer to his prayers +in the forest. + +"And since that time, my children, the wild rice feeds thousands of +our people every year. It grows without planting in the lakes and +rivers of our forest land. + +"Another story tells us that Manabush returned one day from a long +hunt without game. The fire in front of his lodge was still burning, +and a duck was sitting on the kettle eating boiled rice. + +"Manabush tasted the new food and found it good. He followed the bird +to a lake not far away where wild rice had grown and ripened. +Afterwards boiled rice became a common food among his tribe." + + + + +MOVING THE DOLLS' CAMP + + +White Cloud ran out of her wigwam home. Her work was done, and a happy +time of play was before her. + +She hurried through the tall grass toward a near-by lodge, calling: +"Flying Squirrel, come and play with me." + +The skin curtain hanging over the lodge door was raised and a little +head appeared. But there was no squirrel to be seen, only an Indian +girl with the blackest of hair and eyes. + +Her playmates had given her the name of Flying Squirrel because she +was always climbing trees and jumping from one branch to another. + +"Bring your dolls," said White Cloud. "We'll build lodges for them. +Come as soon as you can, for my baby is trying to get away." + +"Your baby! What do you mean? Where did you find a baby?" + +White Cloud was rejoicing in a family of young puppies--new playthings +for her. She had bound one of them to a board, and had tied the board +cradle to her back, as a squaw carries a papoose. + +"Be still! Be still, bad baby!" she cried to her squirming pet. But +the little dog would not be still. He howled louder and louder, and +struggled so hard that he broke away from his cords and bands. + +"Bad baby! Bad baby!" said White Cloud. "Next time I'll tie you +tighter!" + +Flying Squirrel brought out an armful of dolls, and the children went +to the bushes to cut long straight sticks. They soon found enough +poles for their dolls' wigwams. Each child set up her sticks in a +circle, bringing them together at the top. + +"Now we'll hunt birch bark," said Flying Squirrel. "My father has made +me a new knife." + +Soon the small lodges were covered with long strips of bark and the +floors sprinkled with cedar twigs. + +"I wish we had skin covers for our dolls' wigwams," said White Cloud. + +Flying Squirrel looked at the even strips of bark that were well +placed around her frame of slender poles. "Lots of people have bark +covers," she replied. "My father has seen whole villages of +bark-covered lodges." + +"When the peace pipe was smoked over west, my father was there," said +White Cloud. "Now we can get big skins in trade, and sometime we'll +have ponies. Have you ever seen a pony, Flying Squirrel?" + +"No; but my father saw white men when he went north in the moon of +snow to trade furs. He says the tribes west will come and fight us +again for our rice beds. Let's play a war is coming and move our camp. +Where are your dolls, White Cloud?" + +"I couldn't bring them, for I had my puppy baby. You have dolls +enough for both of us." + +Flying Squirrel gave her playmate two of the queerest-looking dolls +you ever saw. They were rolls of deerskin with faces painted in black +on the ends. + +The children tied the smaller dolls in board cradles, hung them to the +lodge poles, and sang lullabies. + +Good Bird had packed a basket of food for her little daughter. Dried +meat, berries, parched rice, and corn made a fine feast. All were +invited, even the puppy, and the largest dolls were honored guests. + +"I wish I had my new beaded bag to show you," said White Cloud. "I +shall put my doll's best clothes in it and hang it over her bed. Are +you learning to sew, Flying Squirrel?" + +"I don't like to sew. I would rather climb trees. It's time to move +now. Let's get ready. We will go to the stream that flows into the +lake." And Flying Squirrel began to whistle for her dogs. + +"My big dog is home with the rest of her puppies. May I have one of +yours?" asked White Cloud. "Last moon my father visited a friendly +camp. There were thirty lodges and more dogs than he could count. I +wish he had brought me another big one." + +White Cloud did not say "thirty," for she knew no word for so large a +number. She raised her ten fingers three times, just as she had seen +her father do. + +Flying Squirrel called her dogs, and they came running to her. She had +begun to train them to draw loads, and they stood quite still while +the girls harnessed them for moving. The bark covers of the two lodges +were taken off and carefully rolled. Then the lodge poles were corded +in two long straight bundles. Flying Squirrel crossed the small ends +and fastened them above the dog's back. The large ends dragged on the +ground. + +[Illustration] + +Back of the dog the sticks were held in place by two cross pieces of +wood carefully tied a little way apart. Between the cross pieces was a +strong netting that hung down like a shallow bag. The dolls and rolls +of bark were laid in one of the nets. What should the other dog carry? + +"I know," exclaimed White Cloud. "My puppy shall have a ride." He was +caught and firmly tied. The net was a comfortable bed, and he made no +objection. + +Soon the camp was packed, and the children started. The dogs trotted +along quietly, and everything went well for a time. As they came near +the little stream where they wished to set their camp, a rabbit ran +across the trail. Away went the dogs. + +The rabbit leaped over the narrow stream. One of the dogs plunged +after him, and out went the dolls and bark into the water. + +The other dog shook himself free from his harness. The lodge poles he +was dragging turned upside down, holding the howling puppy in the mud. + +"Oh, my puppy will drown!" cried White Cloud as she dashed down the +muddy banks in rescue. + +"My dolls! My best dolls are spoiled!" mourned Flying Squirrel. + +Soon the dogs were called back, everything found, the dolls bathed and +laid out to dry. Then the lodges were set up, and the children rested +in the sun. + +As they looked about, White Cloud saw a feather lying on the grass. +It was painted, as if it had fallen from a warrior's bonnet. + +"You had better take that feather to your father now," said Flying +Squirrel. "Perhaps there is going to be a war, and a spy has passed this +way. I am afraid. I shall pack all my things and go home with my dogs. + +"Here, put this leaf around it and run to your mother. She will know +what to do." + +Away ran White Cloud, holding a sprawling puppy in her arms and trying +to protect the feather, which she had concealed in a large leaf. + + + + +FINDING A WAR FEATHER + + +"Look, Mother; look at the big feather I have found. It is not like +the ones in my father's war bonnet." + +Good Bird took the feather and examined it carefully. + +"Where did you find it, White Cloud?" she asked. + +"Near the little stream that runs into the lake. Flying Squirrel and I +have moved our dolls' lodges this morning." + +"You must take the feather to your father at once. It may be that some +enemy is planning war and getting ready to surprise our camp. + +"Then you must move your dolls and their lodge near by where I can see +you play. You may be in danger. + +"Your father is spearing fish in the lake. Now run to him. Let no one +see the feather, and do not turn aside to talk to any one like the +little hare that did not mind its mother." + +"When will you tell me the story of the hare?" asked White Cloud. + +"Do not talk about stories now. Run along. You must not wait a minute. +I will watch you all the way. Your father, I think, will come back +with you." + +White Cloud soon found her father. He left his fishing and returned +with his little daughter. + +A council of the tribe was called, for the strange feather had been +dropped by no friendly Indian. + +Then the medicine drum was beaten to call the people together. They +were told of the danger, and there was a great stir in the village. +Everything was made ready for sudden moving in case of attack. All the +trained dogs were called and tied in the wigwams of their owners. + +A guard of young Indians was placed on watch for the night. Fleet Deer +came late to his lodge, and after eating he joined the warriors. + +As nothing more could be done, Good Bird comforted her frightened +little daughter by stories. Swift Elk pretended to be very brave. He +did not run out of the wigwam as usual, but lay on the ground and +listened to his mother. + +"Now, my daughter," she said, "I'll tell you the story you asked for +this morning." + + + + +THE LYNX AND THE HARE + + +Once a little hare asked her mother if she might play on the big rock +near the lodge. + +"Yes, little one, but you must not leave the rock. And be sure that +you do not speak to any stranger who passes by," replied her mother. + +Now the rock was low near the lodge, but very high on the other side, +where it overlooked a stream. + +A hungry lynx saw the little hare jumping on the high rock. "I must +have that hare for my dinner," he said. So he spoke in a kind voice. +"Wabose, Wabose. Come here, my little white one." + +The hare went to the edge of the rock and looked down. + +"Come here, pretty Wabose. I want to talk with you," said the lynx in +a coaxing voice. + +"Oh, no," said the hare. "I am afraid of you. My mother told me not +to talk to strangers." + +"You are very pretty, and you are a good, obedient child. But I am not +a stranger. I am a relative of yours. Go down the rock and come to the +stream where I can see you better. I want to send some word to your +lodge. Come down and see me, you pretty little hare." + +The hare was pleased to be praised and called pretty. When she heard +that the lynx was a relative, she forgot to obey her mother. + +She jumped down from the rock where she stood and trotted to the +stream. There the lynx pounced upon her and tore her to pieces. + +"Don't you know any war stories?" asked Swift Elk. + +"Yes; I heard one in the moon of snow that you will like," answered +his mother. + + + + +HOW THE ANIMALS SAVED THE TRIBE + + +Once there was an Indian village in great danger. The trail of the +enemy had been found on every side of the camp. + +The women were making ready for flight. They had harnessed their dogs +to the dragging poles. The rawhide netting between the braces that +held the poles in place was packed with household goods. + +An attack was expected in the early morning. Guards were stationed to +call the men to battle, and to tell the women which way to flee with +their children. + +The warriors all were ready. Their chief went out alone under the +stars, and prayed that he might be able to save his people from death. + +Suddenly a deer with branching horns stood before him. "I have come to +tell you that your prayers are heard," he said. + +"We, the animals, invite you to our council. We shall give you the +power to save your tribe." + +[Illustration] + +They traveled on together until they came to a cave under a rocky +bluff near the river. Here the warrior chief was welcomed and given +the seat of honor. + +Every animal of field and forest, and every bird of the air, had +gathered in the immense cavern. There was silence for a moment. Then a +great eagle flapped his wings. He stood on a jutting rock in sight of +all. + +"Your acts of kindness, oh, warrior, are known to us," said the +eagle. "You have hunted only for food, as the animals hunt. Your +arrows have not been shot to take life without a reason. No bird nor +beast has been left by you to suffer and die. + +"Therefore, I, the eagle, king of birds, give you of my courage. You +shall fear no warlike band, however many. Alone you shall conquer the +enemy." + +"And I," said the bear, "give you of my gift of healing. You shall be +able to cure yourself, and also your fellow warriors, of any wounds +you may receive in battle." + +"My fleetness is yours," said the deer. "You shall outstrip all others +and run like the wind." + +The wolf stretched himself and walked noiselessly into the circle. +"When you creep into the enemy's camp," he said, "no eye shall be able +to see you. Thus may you rout your enemies, and no one shall know who +is striking the blows." + +"I am small," said the field mouse; "I leave no tracks on the grass, +and send no sound into the air. I give you my power, that none may +follow your trail nor hear your footfall." + +"No one can give a better gift than I," said the owl. "You shall see +in the dark as I do. The night shall be to you like the day." + +"You have fed me," said the dog. "You have taken me into your lodge +and let me lie by the warm fire. I give you in return my power of +smell that you may follow the trail of your enemy." + +Suddenly there was no cave in sight, no animals in council. Where he +had been praying under the open sky, the warrior chief stood alone. +Was it all a dream? + +From the grass came a faint strange smell. He followed it fast as the +fleetest deer. In what seemed but a moment he was in sight of the +sleeping foe. + +He entered their camp as silently as the field mouse. Like the eagle +he had no fear. He struck out with his weapons. In great surprise the +painted Indians awoke and jumped to their feet. + +Wounded men fell under blows that could not be seen nor heard. Their +chief lay still upon the ground. + +"There is magic here," they cried. "We cannot fight against magic." +And they aroused their band and fled, leaving everything behind them. + +Then the victor sped with the fleetness of the deer to his own tribe. +The men, waiting for the battle signal, followed him to the deserted +camp. They returned laden with weapons, the finest of bows and arrows, +spears, war bonnets, stores of food, and other spoils of war. + +Joy spread among the people. In the village of wigwams feasting took +the place of fear. + +"I wish I had been that warrior," said Swift Elk. + +"You may have a chance to be just as brave to-morrow," answered his +mother. "I depend on you to take your father's place here if he goes +into battle." + +The children could keep awake no longer, but Good Bird did not close +her eyes. The dawn came on, the sun rose, and there was no attack. + +For many days and nights the young braves took their turn in watching. +There were no further signs of an enemy, and no one ever found out how +the strange feather came to be dropped near the camp. + + + + +WINTER EVENINGS + + +The wind roared in the trees, and the snow was falling. But Fleet +Deer's lodge was warm and comfortable. Good Bird, his wife, knew how +to make a lodge, and how to keep it from being smoky. + +She had sewed heavy skins together for the outside cover of the +wigwam. Inside, the lower walls were of tanned doeskin, nearly white. +The cold air passing between the lining and the cover ventilated the +room and carried the smoke out of the smoke hole. + +In the middle of the circular floor was a stone-lined fire pit, now +filled with glowing coals that gave light to the room. + +Warm skins with the fur uppermost covered the three long platforms +that were used for seats in the daytime and for beds at night. + +Good Bird took great pride in her home. She kept the floor swept with +a cedar broom and everything in its place. + +[Illustration] + +When not busy in preparing food, she made clothing and moccasins. She +stained porcupine quills for trimmings, and made necklaces of shells. +The teeth of wild animals were used for ornaments. + +On this cold winter evening Good Bird was dressed in a handsome +garment trimmed with fringe and colored quills. Her moccasins and +leggings were also ornamented. + +She had braided her hair neatly, and drawn a line of fresh red paint +along the parting. Her forehead and cheeks were also touched with red. + +"Are you going to a dance, Mother?" asked White Cloud. + +Good Bird said nothing, but smiled as she thought of the guest who was +expected and the pleasant surprise in store for her children. + +The evening meal was over. Nokomis had opened her stores of maple sugar +and corn in honor of Swift Elk, who had won the game of tops that day. + +Whipping his winter top over level snow and high drifts alike, he had +outdistanced his companions by fifty paces. + +White Cloud sat by the fire drying her moccasins. She had been out +sliding with her playmates until the sun left the sky. You would have +thought their sleds very funny, for they were made of the curved rib +bones of a large deer. + +Swift Elk was studying the strange signs and markings on the lining +of the wigwam. He was never tired of hearing the pictures explained, +for they showed in order the chief events in his father's life. + +Here was the grizzly bear that Fleet Deer had killed single-handed. +For this deed of bravery he was entitled to wear an eagle's feather. + +Here was the deer that was killed in time of famine, after a long and +dangerous hunt. + +Other pictures showed Indians in the war dance, on the war trail, +surprising the foe, returning with the honors of battle, holding a +council, and smoking the peace pipe. + +Fleet Deer was master of the Indian art of picture writing, and he had, +that very day, added new paintings to the record. His children had never +heard of any other way to read or write, and they had never seen a book. + +The flap of skin covering the lodge entrance was raised and a man +entered. + +"The story-teller! The story-teller!" shouted the children with +delight. He was given the seat of honor and the best food that Good +Bird could provide. + +When the guest was warm and his meal over, favorite stories were asked +for. + +"We ought to hear again of the great gift of corn to our people," said +Good Bird. + +"New stories, I want new stories. Will you tell us some new stories?" +asked White Cloud. + +"War stories, I want, and stories of boys," said Swift Elk. + +Then Fleet Deer, the father, spoke: "I wish my son to know the tale of +the White Canoe and how a great warrior honored his parents." + +Nokomis had no request. She was a fine story-teller herself and +interested in hearing everything that might be related. + +Then, to the joy of his hearers, the story-teller began. + +First he delighted the children by telling of the ground hog that +saved his own life by teaching a new dance. + +The next tale was about the first animals and how they came to live in +the forests and on the plains. + +After the story-teller had explained how sickness came into the world, +Fleet Deer wanted to be a medicine man and find all the plants that +cure disease. + +And so they all listened to one tale after another until the midnight +stars shone overhead and the embers grew white where the burning logs +had sparkled. + +Now you may read for yourselves the stories that were told in an +Indian lodge on a winter evening. + + + + +THE GROUND-HOG DANCE + + +Seven wolves once caught a ground hog. "Now we'll kill you and have +something good to eat," they said. + +But the ground hog replied: "When we find good food we must rejoice +over it, as people do in the green-corn dance. I know you mean to kill +me, and I can't help myself, but if you want to dance I'll sing for you. + +"I will teach you a new dance. I'll lean up against seven trees in +turn, and you will dance away, then come back toward me. At the last +turn you may kill me." + +The wolves were very hungry, but they wanted to learn the new dance. +So they told the ground hog to go ahead. The ground hog leaned up +against the first tree and began the song. + +All the wolves danced away from the trees. When the signal was given +they danced back in line. + +[Illustration] + +"That's fine!" said the ground hog, as he went to the second tree and +began the second song. The wolves danced away, then turned at the +signal and danced back again. + +"That's very fine," said the ground hog; and he went to another tree +and started the third song. + +The wolves danced their best, and were praised by the ground hog. At +each song he took another tree, and each tree was a little nearer to +his hole under a stump. + +At the seventh song he said, "Now this is the last dance. When I give +the signal you will all turn and come after me. The one who catches me +may have me." + +So the ground hog began the last song, and kept it up until the wolves +were many steps away. Just as the signal was given he made a jump for +his hole. + +The wolves turned and were after him. But the ground hog reached his +hole and dived in. He was scarcely inside when the foremost wolf +caught him by the tail and pulled so hard that it broke off. + +And the ground hog's tail has been short ever since. + + + + +THE LUCKY HUNTER + + +Soon after the world was made, a hunter lived with his wife and only +son near a high mountain. No matter when the man went into the woods +he was sure to come back with plenty of meat. And so he went by the +name of the Lucky Hunter. + +The little boy used to play every day by a river not far from the +house. One morning the old people thought they heard laughing and +talking in the bushes as if two children were playing together. + +When the boy came home at night he was asked who had been with him all +day. + +"A wild boy comes out of the water," answered the son. "He says he is +my elder brother." + +The father and mother wished very much to see their son's companion, +but the wild boy always ran into the river when he heard them coming. + +"This must not go on," said the father. + +That night the Lucky Hunter said to his son: "To-morrow when the wild +boy comes to play, ask him to wrestle with you. When you have your +arms around him, you must hold him and call us." + +In this way the wild boy was caught and kept in the house until he was +tamed. He was full of mischief, and he led the smaller boy into all +kinds of trouble. + +One day the wild boy said to his brother: "I wonder where our father +gets all his game. Let's follow him and find out." + +A few days afterward the Lucky Hunter took a bow and some feathers in +his hand and went toward a swamp. After waiting a short time, the boys +followed. + +The old man cut reeds, fitted the feathers to them, and made arrows. + +"What are those things for, I wonder?" said the wild boy. + +When the Lucky Hunter had finished his arrows, he went on over the +low hills and up the mountain. + +Keeping out of sight, the boys watched him. When he was halfway to the +top he stopped and lifted a large rock in the side of the mountain. + +At once a deer ran out. The Lucky Hunter killed it with his first +arrow. Then he carefully replaced the heavy stone and pulled a strong +vine over it to conceal the cracks. + +"Oho," said the boys. "He keeps the deer shut up inside of the +mountain. When he wants meat he lets one out and kills it with the +arrows he made in the swamp." + +They hurried to reach home before their father, who had the heavy deer +to carry. + +A few days later the boys went to the swamp, made arrows, and started +up the mountain. When they came to the hole, they lifted the rock and +a deer came running out. + +Before they could shoot him another came, and another. The boys could +not stop them, and they could not shoot them. + +[Illustration] + +Other animals made a rush for the entrance. There were elk, antelope, +raccoons, wolves, foxes, panthers, and many others. They scattered in +all directions and disappeared in the wilderness. + +Then a great flock of birds came flying out of the hole. There were +turkeys, geese, ducks, quail, eagles, robins, hawks, and owls. + +They darkened the air like a cloud and made such a noise with their +wings that the Lucky Hunter heard them. + +"My bad boys have got into trouble," he cried. "I must go and see what +they are doing." + +So he went up the mountain and found the two boys standing by the +opening. Not an animal nor a bird was to be seen. + +Their father was very angry. Without a word he went into the cave and +kicked off the covers of four jars. Out swarmed wasps, hornets, gnats, +flies, mosquitoes, and all manner of stinging and biting insects and +bugs. + +The boys screamed with pain. They rolled over and over on the ground, +trying to brush off their tormentors. + +Their father looked on until he thought they had been punished enough. +Then he spoke. + +"See what you have done, you rascals. Always before you have had +enough to eat without working for it. Whenever you were hungry, all I +had to do was to come up here and take home anything your mother +wanted to cook. + +"After this when you want a deer to eat, you will have to hunt all +over the woods for it, and then may not find one. + +"Now you may go and take care of yourselves." + +[Illustration] + + + + +HOW SICKNESS CAME + + +In the old days when the beasts, birds, fishes, insects, and plants +could talk, they lived in peace and friendship with the children of men. + +But, as time went on, the people increased in number, and they crowded +the animals out of their homes. + +This was bad enough, but, to make it worse, man invented bows and +arrows, spears, knives, and hooks, and began to kill the animals. + +They were killed for clothing, and they were killed for food, and +still they were patient. But when man began to kill them for sport, +they determined to unite for common safety. + +The bears first met in council with their chief. After each in turn +had complained of the cruel treatment of man, they all declared war +against him. + +Some of the bears proposed to make weapons and use them. But the chief +said: "It is better to trust to the teeth and claws which Nature has +given us." + +As no one could think of other plans, their chief dismissed the +council. The bears returned to the woods, and have done little harm to +man ever since. + +The deer next held a council. They decided that any one who killed a +deer without asking his pardon should be lame with many pains. + +The reptiles and the fish talked the matter over. They agreed to +punish man by making him dream of snakes and of eating raw fish. + +In the last council the birds, rabbits, squirrels, ducks, and the +smaller animals came together. All complained of stolen nests, stones, +and arrows. + +The ground squirrel alone said a good word for man. This made the others +so angry that they fell upon the little animal and tore him with their +claws. You can see the stripes on his back even to this day. + +Then all the squirrels that had lost legs or tail by arrows, all +rabbits running on three legs, all birds that had seen their little +ones die, all wild ducks lamed, and all animals that had ever been +wounded for sport rose up and called for revenge. + +"Let the pains and the trouble that man has sent to us and our +children be sent to him and his children," they demanded. + +"But how can we do this?" asked the others. "We cannot turn man's +weapons against him." + +"Let us send new diseases," proposed a limping fox. + +All rose up with pleasure at this proposal. And they commenced to +invent diseases so fast that they had soon named every kind of +sickness that you ever heard of. Had they thought of many more, no +human beings would now be alive. + +The grubworm, who had been stepped on by man, was so delighted that he +fell over backwards and has had to wriggle on his back ever since. + +But the plants continued friendly to man. When they heard what the +animals had done, they promised to help him and his children forever. + +Every tree and plant, even the grass and the moss, agreed to furnish a +cure for one of the diseases sent by the animals. + +Each said in turn: "I shall help man when he calls on me in his need." + +Thus came medicine. And if we only knew where to look, we might find +among the plants a cure for every kind of sickness. + + + + +HOW SPRING CONQUERED WINTER + + +Far to the North lives the terrible giant, Winter. When he leaves his +home, all people dread his coming. He whistles, and the storms roar +about him. Where he steps, the ground turns to rock and plants bow +their heads to the earth. + +All the animals flee before him and hide in caves and hollow trees. The +children leave their happy play and sit shivering by the wigwam fire. + +One day old Winter looked about him. He saw no life in field or +forest. The wind raged, and the drifts almost hid the lodges of the +Indians. + +"The world is conquered; I am the only king," said giant Winter. He +sat alone in his lodge. The fire was white with ashes, and the tempest +howled. + +A step was heard, and a young warrior entered the lodge. + +He was tall and straight and youthful. + +Old Winter welcomed the stranger. "Sit here on the mat beside me," he +said. "Let us pass the night together. You shall tell me of your +strange adventures, and of the lands in which you have traveled." + +The old man drew his long peace pipe from its pouch. It was made of +red sandstone, and its stem was a smooth reed. He lighted the pipe +from the dying embers and passed it to his guest. + +Long they talked and smoked together, each boasting of his power. + +"When I blow my breath about me," said old Winter, "rivers stop their +flowing, and water turns to stone." + +The young man smiled. "When I blow my breath about me," he replied, "I +free your prisoned waters, and they rush onward to the seas." + +"My power is greater than yours," boasted Winter. "I have only to +shake my long hair and the leaves die on the branches. Plants bow +their heads before me and go back into the earth." + +[Illustration] + +And now the stranger laughed as he boasted of greater power. "When I +shake my curling locks, I call the leaves back on the branches. The +plants come out of the brown earth and bring forth their flowers and +fruit." + +Old Winter frowned. "I speak, and the birds fly away. I command, and +the wild beasts obey me. They hide in caves. They burrow in the +earth. They do not venture to look upon my face!" + +"I call back the birds you have sent away," replied the stranger. +"They hear my voice and return to their nesting places. I speak, and +the beasts leave their shelters and fill the forests and the plains +with life." + +"I am the king," shouted Winter, "for even man obeys me. When I send +the tempest, the mightiest warriors turn and flee. They close the +doors of their lodges, and I imprison them with drifts of snow." + +"I also have power over man," replied the stranger. "My name is +Spring. I melt your snow and open the wigwam doors. All men rejoice, +and they come forth to hunt and feast and dance." + +The night waned, and the sun came from his lodge like a painted +warrior. The air grew warm and pleasant, and the bluebird and the +robin sang on the lodge poles. + +But the giant! What was taking place? He was growing smaller. Now he +was no larger than a common man. His war bonnet was no longer white, +but old and gray, and its feathers were falling one by one. + +Still the giant dwindled. Smaller and smaller he grew. Tears flowed +from his eyes. He vanished from sight, and fled away with a noise like +the rush of waters. Far to the north he flew where the snow never melts. + +Thus did Spring, the beautiful youth, conquer the great and mighty +Winter. + + "Thus it was that in the Northland + Came the Spring with all its splendor, + All its birds and all its blossoms, + All its flowers and leaves and grasses." + + + + +THE GIFT OF CORN + + +A tribe of Indians once lived on the beautiful islands of a large +lake. They were driven from their homes by hostile tribes. Men, women, +and children left everything they owned and paddled their canoes +westward to the mainland. + +But Manabush, the bravest of the warriors, remained behind. It was his +purpose to keep close watch of the enemy, and to send warning in time +to prevent surprise. + +Every day he paddled his birch canoe close to the shore, hiding in +nooks and bays. He had with him two boys, and with their aid the canoe +was hauled every night into the thick woods. + +As they walked, they carefully covered their footprints with sand. + +Each day Manabush thought of his suffering people, whose supplies of +food had been stolen by the enemy. The brave warrior prayed to the +spirits of earth and air, asking that food be given to his tribe. + +One morning Manabush rose early, leaving the two boys asleep. He went +out from the tent and walked in the forest, where he could not be seen. + +Suddenly he came out upon an open plain. Approaching him was a +handsome youth dressed in garments of green and yellow. In his hair he +wore a red plume. + +Truly this stranger must come from skyland, he thought. What answer +does he bring? + +"I am Mondamin," said the strange man. "Your prayers are heard, for +you pray, not for yourself, but for your people. I have come to show +you how by labor and struggle you can gain what you have prayed for. +You must wrestle with me." + +Long they strove together. The man of the red feather was strong and +active, but at last he was thrown to the earth. + +[Illustration] + +"I have thrown you! I have thrown you!" shouted Manabush. + +"You have gained a great gift for your people," said Mondamin, "for I +am the spirit of the corn." + +Even as he spoke, a wonderful change took place. Gone was the man who +had wrestled with such strength. His garments had turned into green +and yellow corn husks, and his body to a ripe red ear of corn. But the +red plume was still waving. + +Again the voice of Mondamin was heard from the ground. "Take from me +my covers. Scatter my kernels over the plain. Break my spine and throw +it all about you. + +"Make the earth soft and light above me. Let no bird disturb me, and +let no weed share my resting place. Watch me till I stand once more +tall and beautiful. Then you shall have food for your people." + +Manabush obeyed all that the voice had commanded. On the way back to +his canoe he killed a deer, but he said no word to his companions of +his strange adventure with the man of the red feather. + +When the new moon hung like a bow in the west, he visited the field +alone. What were the wide grass-like blades making green the plain? +What were the vines that sent their runners all about? + +Carefully he tilled the field. The stems grew strong, and the broad +leaves gleamed in the sunshine. Still he kept the secret, spending +many hours in watching for his enemies. + +When summer drew near its close, Manabush paddled his canoe to the +shore nearest the wrestling ground. He found the corn clad in green +and yellow, with red plumes waving. And great yellow pumpkins were +ripening on the green vines. + +As he picked the ripe red ears he heard a voice from the field, +saying: "Victory has crowned your struggles, O Manabush. The gift of +corn is to your people, and will always be their food." + + + + +THE MAGIC CANOE + + +One night, as Manabush was lying on the ground in the thick woods, he +heard strange voices. "This is no common enemy," he said to himself. +But he lay motionless and listened. + +The evil spirits were plotting to take his life. By his magic power he +was able to defend himself from their attacks, and they slipped away +unseen. + +In the morning he went to the open shore. There he saw a canoe drawn +up on the beach. Coming near, he found a man in the bow and another in +the stern. They had been changed into stone images as a punishment for +their wicked deeds. + +The canoe was the largest and finest that Manabush had ever seen. It +was full of bags of the most beautiful clothing and stores of the +rarest food. + +Manabush carried all the treasures into the wood and concealed them +in a cave. Then he took the magic canoe and hid it among the rocks. + +[Illustration] + +A voice was heard from one of the stone images: "In this way will the +canoes of your people be loaded when they pass again along this coast." + +Manabush returned to his two young companions, bidding them arise and +cook. He showed them the abundance of meat and fish, the bags of maple +sugar and dried berries, and other foods liked by the Indians. + +Then he thought of his aged father and mother, who had fled far from +their homes. Danger seemed past, and he wished them to return and +share his gifts. + +Westward he sailed in the magic canoe. He needed no paddles, for his +wishes guided him, and the boat flew through the water with amazing +speed. + +Before daylight he was at the lodge of his parents. He found them +asleep, and he carried them to his canoe so gently that they did not +awaken. + +When they awoke in the morning, they could hardly believe their eyes. +They had left behind hunger and a barren lodge. They found themselves +in their own country, with abundance all about them. + +Food was placed before them. Then the bags were opened. There were +beaded dresses for the mother and war bonnets for the father. There +were moccasins and warm blankets. There were skins as soft as the +most skilled work could produce. + +Manabush built his parents a lodge near the cornfield and filled it +with every comfort. Then he brought ears of corn and pumpkins and laid +before them. He told them of his wrestling with Mondamin, and he +showed them the field where the corn stood in its garments of green +and yellow, waving its red plumes. + +The secret of the magic canoe, the stone images, and the wonderful +gifts was shared by Manabush with his father and mother. + +When spring returned a large cornfield grew and prospered. The exiled +tribe came back, and from that time they were noted for their fine +crops of maize. + + + + +THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUNDS + + +All who leave the earth must follow the death trail. Each walks +alone--warrior, squaw, or child. All but papoose. The good spirits +carry papoose. + +The trail goes on and on to the place where the sun slips over the +edge of the earth plane. There it comes to a deep, rapid stream, and +the only bridge is a slippery pine log. + +On the other side of the river are six strange beings with rocks in +their hands. These rocks are magic stones which can injure only those +who have done evil, but can never touch nor harm the good. + +When the one who follows the death trail reaches the middle of the +log, he sees the stones come flying toward him. + +If his life has been evil, he tries to dodge; therefore, he slips off +the log and falls into the black, swirling water. + +Sometimes he crawls out of the stream and climbs to the top of the +rocks. But he can never reach the country of the good spirits. + +There is only one trail to the Happy Hunting Grounds, and that is over +the narrow, slippery log. But if the one who is crossing has brought +good to his kinsmen and his tribe, he does not fear. + +He knows that no harm can come from the stones that fly around him, +and so he keeps his footing and walks safely over. + +The trail winds on over high rocks to the beautiful land. No storms +and no winter enter the Happy Hunting Grounds. The sky is always blue, +and the grass never grows dry with heat nor brown with frost. + +The trees are full of birds, the bushes of fruit, and the forests are +alive with game. Feasting and dancing fill the day, and the war cry is +heard no more. + + + + +ABOUT THE BOOK + + + The facts and stories which have made this little book possible + are found in the works of Schoolcraft and in the Government + reports of Ethnology. Especial credit is due to Albert E. Jenks, + author of "The Wild-Rice Indians of the Upper Lakes," and to + James Mooney, who reported for the Government the tribal myths + told by famous Cherokee story-tellers. + + There is evidence that the Indians of early times had regular + trade routes across the continent, north and south, and east and + west. It was the custom of their story-tellers to exchange + stories, and it is therefore possible that some of the myths told + in the south found their way in northern wigwams. The story of + the birds welcoming a papoose, for example, is obtained in part + from the Cherokee collection, and in part from Schoolcraft, who + lived among the Ojibways, or Chippewas as they are often called. + That certain tales are similar to fables of Æsop is explained by + the theory that a primitive people, observing nature, would + originate similar myths. + + The forests where rice grew wild in the shallow water of lakes + and streams, were coveted lands and the cause of many Indian + wars. Here game was abundant, and maple sugar, berries, and nuts + could be obtained in season. + + After years of conflict for the rice lands, peace was made + between the Ojibways of the Great Lakes and the Sioux, or + Dakotahs, farther west. Trade with the whites had begun, but + there were many villages which the white men had never entered, + and where the primitive customs were still unchanged. + + As Hiawatha was not the only Indian who married a Dakotah, it + follows that there were homes where the family life was + influenced by the customs of both tribes. + + The author has endeavored to describe child life in the Wild-Rice + region west of the Great Lakes at this period, and to retell some + of the most interesting stories enjoyed by Indian children. + + The aim of the book is to gratify the American child's natural + interest in primitive life by stories of our own land and to + increase his respect for all that is original and worthy in the + lives of the First Americans. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Two Indian Children of Long Ago, by Frances Taylor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO INDIAN CHILDREN OF LONG AGO *** + +***** This file should be named 31502-8.txt or 31502-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/5/0/31502/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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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: Two Indian Children of Long Ago + +Author: Frances Taylor + +Release Date: March 4, 2010 [EBook #31502] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO INDIAN CHILDREN OF LONG AGO *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br />Two Indian Children</h1> +<h3>of</h3> +<h1>Long Ago</h1> + +<h4>BY</h4> +<h2>FRANCES LILIAN TAYLOR</h2> +<h5>Author of Adventures in Storyland Readers</h5> + +<h5>ILLUSTRATED BY</h5> +<h3>L. KATE DEAL</h3> + +<h2>BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY<br /> + CHICAGO</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1920, <span class="smcap">by</span></h4> +<h3>BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY</h3> +<h4>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</h4> + +<h4> +<br /> +<br />PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA +<br /> +<br /></h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/frontispiece.png" width="500" height="724" alt="The children viewing deer" title="The children viewing deer"/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0003-illus" id="i0003-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0003-illus.png" width="500" height="111" alt="The children with a view of the village" title="The children with a view of the village"/> +</div> + +<table width="70%" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> + +<tr><td colspan="2" align="right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The First Americans</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Wild-Rice Indians</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Stories and Story-Tellers</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Welcome to a Papoose</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Indian Baby and Her Cradle</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">White Cloud's First Ride</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Nokomis Tells a Story</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Firefly Dance</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Swift Elk, the Indian Boy</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Naming of Swift Elk</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Fire and the Fire Makers</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Thunderers</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Little People of the Forest</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Black Wolf Tells a Story</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Race Between the Crane and the Humming<br /> + Bird</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Hunting Wild Ducks</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Brave Duck</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Summer Sports</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Ball Game</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_85">85</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Animals and the Birds Play Ball</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Gathering Wild Rice</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Ant and the Katydid</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">How Wild Rice Was Discovered</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Moving the Dolls' Camp</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Finding a War Feather</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Lynx and the Hare</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">How the Animals Saved the Tribe</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Winter Evenings</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Ground-Hog Dance</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Lucky Hunter</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">How Sickness Came</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">How Spring Conquered Winter</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Gift of Corn</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Magic Canoe</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Happy Hunting Grounds</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">About the Book</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<h2>TWO<br /> +INDIAN CHILDREN<br /> +OF LONG AGO</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0005-illus" id="i0005-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0005-illus.png" width="500" height="643" alt="The children at a teepee" title="The Children at a Teepee"/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE FIRST AMERICANS</h2> + +<p>We are proud of being Americans. But +we must not forget that the Indians once +owned all America, north and south and east +and west.</p> + +<p>The Indians were the first Americans of +whom we read. No people ever had a greater +love for their land, and no race has ever taken +more pleasure in out-of-door life.</p> + +<p>After Columbus found the New World, +white men came from Europe to make their +homes here. As time went on they drove the +Indians farther and farther west and took +away their hunting grounds.</p> + +<p>Let us try to imagine our country as it was +when the Indians owned it. Can we picture +our land without a house or a store or a railroad? +Can we think of great rivers with no +cities on their banks and with no bridges on +which to cross from one side to the other?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>Every boy we know likes to go camping. +But who would be willing to set up a camp far +away in the deep woods without taking with +him tent or food or blankets?</p> + +<p>Before trade with the white men began, +the Indians found everything they needed in +the wild land about them. They could make +their own weapons and tools, their canoes and +paddles, their houses and clothing, and even +build a fire without matches.</p> + +<p>Your fathers leave home to earn money for +your food and clothing. Your mothers see +that your meals are cooked and that your +clothes are bought or made.</p> + +<p>The Indians took care of their children in +much the same way. During the hunting +season the fathers and big brothers went away +every morning to hunt. The men provided +all the meat for their families, and all the +skins for clothing and covers.</p> + +<p>When a deer or a bear was shot, the hunter +brought it to the camp and threw it down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +His work for the day was done—the women +could do the rest.</p> + +<p>And it was wonderful to see what the +wives and mothers could do with a big animal. +Was there a wigwam in the tribe without +food? The meat was shared to the last mouthful. +Was there an abundance? The meat was +dried for long keeping.</p> + +<p>Did the son need more covers for his bed? +A bear's skin was finished like a fur rug for +his comfort. Did the black-eyed daughter beg +for a new dress? Her mother could make +from the deerskin a soft garment beautifully +trimmed with colored beads, stained quills, +and fringes.</p> + +<p>But what did the Indians do when they +could find no more game to shoot with their +arrows? Why, they sent out scouts to select +a better place to live, and the chief gave orders +for every one to move.</p> + +<p>Down came the lodge poles. The trained +dogs were called and loaded, and away they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +all went. Just think of a whole village moving +and leaving nothing behind but the land!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0010-illus" id="i0010-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0010-illus.png" width="500" height="368" alt="The village is moving" title="The village is moving"/> +</div> + +<p>The Indians spent much time in feasting, +dancing, and games. During the summer the +men had little else to do, for they seldom +hunted while the wild animals were caring +for their young.</p> + +<p>Each tribe was ruled by a chief and a council +of warriors. All their lands were held in +common, and no one suffered want except +when food was scarce for all.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>Every boy was watched with interest by +the whole village. His first walking was +noticed, and his first success +in hunting was often +celebrated by a feast.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 100px;"> +<a name="i0011-illus" id="i0011-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0011-illus.png" width="100" height="178" alt="The medicine man" title="The medicine man"/> +</div> + +<p>When the corn was +ripe, the Indians held one +of the most important +dances of the year to show +their thanks to the Great +Spirit for the gift of corn.</p> + +<p>In times of sickness, +the medicine man came +with rattle and drum to drive away the evil +spirits that were believed to have caused +the trouble. If the sick person grew worse, +Indians, with their faces painted black, +crowded the wigwam and more medicine men +were called.</p> + +<p>They drummed harder and harder. They +yelled and beat their rattles, thinking that +they were helping the sick one to recover.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>When anyone in the tribe died, the things +he had cared for most were placed in his grave. +There were toys for a little child, and weapons +and blankets for a warrior. The favorite +horse of a chief was often killed to be his companion +on the journey to the land of spirits. +Even food was carried to the burial place because +the trail was long that led to the Happy +Hunting Grounds.</p> + +<p>After many years, the early customs +became greatly changed. To-day large numbers +of Indians are living in the white man's +way. Some are well educated and own houses, +farms, and even automobiles. Their children +are trained in government schools. There are +writers among them whose books we like to +read, and there are artists who paint interesting +pictures of Indian life.</p> + +<p>During the great World War the Indians +begged to join the army, and hundreds enlisted. +Young men from many tribes were in +France, and there were no braver soldiers.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WILD-RICE INDIANS</h2> + +<p>Every boy and girl who studies geography +can find the Great Lakes. In the states south +and west there are hundreds of small lakes +and rivers where wild rice grows in the shallow +water.</p> + +<p>During the early days of our country, +different tribes of Indians gathered the wild +rice for food, and many battles were fought +for the rice fields.</p> + +<p>From the birch trees of the forest the men +obtained bark for their canoes. In these light +boats the women pushed their way through +the thickets of ripe grain. They beat the +stalks with short sticks, letting the rice fall +into the canoes.</p> + +<p>The wild rice was eaten raw from the +growing plants. It was also parched while +green for daily use, and bushels of the ripe +grain were stored away for the long, cold +winter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0014-illus" id="i0014-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0014-illus.png" width="500" height="254" alt="Harvesting rice" title="Harvesting rice"/> +</div> + +<p>At harvest time there was always good +hunting, for great flocks of ducks, geese, and +other birds flew to the rice stalks to eat the +seeds.</p> + +<p>In the spring the women, boys, and old +men spent weeks at the sugar camp. They +caught the maple sap in small bark dishes +and boiled it into sugar. The boys kept the +fires going under the kettles and, for the +first few days, ate nearly all the sugar they +made.</p> + +<p>Many kinds of berries grew in this northern +country. These the Indian women picked +and dried. Indeed, the underground storehouse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +of a wigwam housekeeper was full of +good things to eat.</p> + +<p>Hiawatha is said to have lived on the shore +of one of the Great Lakes. Before the white +men sold fire water to the Indians, there were +many happy homes in the forest. The ways +of living were the same as we read about in +Longfellow's poem, and the children were +trained to be brave and honorable and to +respect their elders.</p> + +<p>The boys were trained in woodcraft. They +learned the names and habits of wild animals. +They could find their way alone through +dense forests; and they could see farther and +hear better than any boys we know.</p> + +<p>The girls were taught by their mothers +to be modest and industrious. They made +beautiful beadwork to trim dresses and moccasins. +They could set up a wigwam, prepare +food, and keep a clean and orderly home.</p> + +<p>This little book tells how children lived +and played long ago in the wild-rice country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +Their tribe was then at peace with the fierce +Indians farther west. A few men of the village +had traveled north with furs, but the +children had never seen a white man.</p> + +<p>The old-time life of the Indians is ended. +But there are camps in the unsettled lands of +the wild-rice region where many strange customs +can still be seen; where the Indian drum +is heard, and the women gather wild rice as in +the olden time.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> +<h2>STORIES AND STORY-TELLERS</h2> + +<p>The Indians of long ago had no books and +no schools; but each tribe had its story-tellers, +who went from one wigwam to another. +Everywhere they were welcomed by old and +young and begged to return.</p> + +<p>The stories were told and retold by their +hearers until learned. Indian mothers quieted +their fretful little ones by stories and +songs just as other mothers have always +done.</p> + +<p>The Indian stories are strange, and some +are very beautiful. There are wonderful tales +of the sun, moon, and stars; of animals and +birds and trees; of the thunder and the lightning +and the winds.</p> + +<p>Through stories the children learned the +strange beliefs of their parents. They were +taught to call the sun their father and the +moon their mother, and all the animals and +birds their brothers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>The Indians believed that good and bad +spirits were all around them on the earth and +above them in the sky.</p> + +<p>They thought that animals and birds could +talk, and that they listened to everything +which was said in the wigwams.</p> + +<p>Tales of fearless hunters and brave warriors +made the boys wish to become as brave +as their fathers. Tales of the men that had +brought great good to their people led the +children to hope that they, too, might sometime +bring blessings to their tribe.</p> + +<p>The children learned that their fathers +worshiped the Great Spirit, and that no +warrior ever went on the warpath without +offering many prayers.</p> + +<p>They were taught that many of their +dances were thank offerings to the Great +Spirit, and that the war dance was for success +in battle.</p> + +<p>In winter evenings the Indians gathered +around the wigwam fire. This was their only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +light. The fathers and grandfathers told +wonderful stories of war and hunting, and +related the old tales they had heard when +they were children.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0019-illus" id="i0019-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0019-illus.png" width="500" height="483" alt="An evening of stories" title="An evening of stories"/> +</div> + +<p>Night after night the boys were drilled in +repeating the stories they had heard. The +whole family listened attentively, helping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +all, and praising the one who did the best.</p> + +<p>Special training was given to the boys of +the tribe who showed the most talent. They +were carefully prepared to take the places of +the older story-tellers, for the tribal tales +must never be lost nor forgotten.</p> + +<p>The Indian belief that animals can talk is +shown in many of their best stories. Here is +one about the birds.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<a name="i0020-illus" id="i0020-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0020-illus.png" width="100" height="150" alt="A moon-lit night" title="A moon-lit night"/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> +<h2>WELCOME TO A PAPOOSE</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0021-illus" id="i0021-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0021-illus.png" width="500" height="354" alt="The morning" title="The morning"/> +</div> + +<p>Little Wren flies here and there about the +village of wigwams. She is the news gatherer +for the bird council.</p> + +<p>She peers into the tent openings and +listens to the talk of the mothers. She flits +about the trees where children play.</p> + +<p>When a little son is born, she carries the +news to the birds, and they are sad. "Alas, +alas!" they cry. "We hear the whistle of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +arrow. The boy will grow, and he will shoot +us with his bow and arrows."</p> + +<p>But when the wren chatters about the +coming of a baby girl, the birds chirp merrily. +They sing of the grains she will scatter when +she grinds the corn into meal.</p> + +<p>They sing of the wild rice she will let drop +when she comes with her loaded canoe from +the rice harvest. "Sing merrily, sing merrily," +they say. "Another woman child has +come to feed us!"</p> + +<p>The cricket hops in the wigwam. And +the cricket is glad when the baby is a girl. +"I shall hide among the floor mats and sing +where she plays," he chirps.</p> + +<p>But the cricket is sad when the baby is a +boy. "He will shoot me, he will shoot me!" +chirps the cricket. For, as soon as the boy is +old enough, he will be given a tiny bow; and +he will fit the sharp arrow and shoot the +cricket and the grasshopper.</p> + +<p>The woodpecker welcomes the girl baby.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +He sings of the wood worms he will find when +the girl goes with her mother for wood. For +the women of the wigwam break the dry +branches for the fire, and the wood worms +fall from their hiding places.</p> + +<p>But the raven rejoices at the sight of the +boy baby in his cradle. "My food, my food!" +he croaks. A hunter has come to the camp. +He will shoot the rabbit and the squirrel and +the deer; and food for the hungry ravens will +be left where his arrows fall.</p> + +<p>The Indian father rejoices when he looks +at his son. "May he grow to be a brave hunter +and a fearless warrior." Such is the Indian's +wish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0024-illus" id="i0024-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0024-illus.png" width="500" height="717" alt="A baby in the cradle" title="A baby in the cradle"/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE INDIAN BABY AND HER CRADLE</h2> + +<p>Why is the happy song of the robin heard +beside the lodge? Why chirps the cricket so +merrily?</p> + +<p>Can you not guess? There is a new daughter +in the wigwam. Another wood gatherer +and fire maker has come to the tribe.</p> + +<p>"Bring the new cradle, Nokomis. Let me +have the beautiful cradle I have made for my +little daughter." And Good Bird, the mother, +points with pride to a strange-looking object +that is not at all like the cradle your baby +sleeps in.</p> + +<p>A straight board leans against the inner +lining of the lodge. To one side of it is fastened +a white doeskin bag which is trimmed +with beautiful fringes and beadwork. Can +this be a baby's cradle?</p> + +<p>Nokomis, the grandmother, opens the bag, +which is laced down the middle with colored +strings. She makes a bed of soft moss upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +the hard board and lays the papoose very +straight in its little frame.</p> + +<p>Laced and bound, this strange cradle is +hung to the top of the lodge. A bow of curved +wood protects the baby's head from injury, +should the cradle fall.</p> + +<p>As the little papoose swings gently, the +Indian mother sings a lullaby, and this is the +one she often sings:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wa wa—wa wa—wa wa yea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swinging, swinging, lullaby.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep thou, sleep thou, sleep thou.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little daughter, lullaby.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wa wa—wa wa—wa wa."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Slower and slower swings the cradle and +the black eyes close in sleep.</p> + +<p>"What shall we name the little one?" asks +the mother.</p> + +<p>Nokomis stands in the door of the wigwam. +Through the trees she sees the blue water of +the lake. White clouds are moving rapidly +across the sky.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>"White Cloud shall be her name," answers +Nokomis.</p> + +<p>Good Bird, the mother, smiles and nods. +As she watches the cradle, she talks to the +sleeping child.</p> + +<p>"My little woman, you shall be a fire +maker and a lodge keeper like your mother. +You shall help me tan the skins for clothing. +I will teach you to make beautiful dresses and +trim them with beadwork and quills. Your +father and your brother will be proud to wear +the moccasins you make.</p> + +<p>"You shall go with me to the lake when +the rice is ready to harvest. Together we will +hunt the wild berries and the nuts. You +shall be your mother's helper, my little +daughter, White Cloud."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> +<h2>WHITE CLOUD'S FIRST RIDE</h2> + +<p>White Cloud, the baby daughter of Good +Bird, is having her first ride out of doors. Do +you think she is in a baby buggy like your +little sister's? Or do you suppose her mother +draws her in a tiny cart?</p> + +<p>You can never guess unless you know +how Indian mothers contrive to take their +babies with them when they are carrying +heavy loads. White Cloud is laced in her +strange cradle and bound securely to her +mother's back.</p> + +<p>On the bent strip of board that arches over +the head of the cradle are fastened playthings +made of carved wood and bone. The bright +toys jingle and rattle, and the baby laughs.</p> + +<p>To-day the little arms and hands are firmly +laced inside the beaded bag. So the child can +not reach out and play with the noisy images +as she loves to do.</p> + +<p>Laced, bound, and protected, the baby is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +safe even when her mother pushes through +the thickest forest.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0029-illus" id="i0029-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0029-illus.png" width="500" height="278" alt="Children swimming" title="Children swimming"/> +</div> + +<p>The boys, who run everywhere, have +brought good news to the camp. "The June +berries are ripe in the forest," they say. So +the mothers are starting with children and +bags for the berry picking.</p> + +<p>It is not yet sunrise; but it is the custom of +the Indians to rise early. The men, with bows +and arrows, knives and spears, have already +gone away to their daily business—the hunt.</p> + +<p>The older lads are with their fathers, and +the little boys have begun a long summer's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +day of shouting, swimming, mud throwing, +and mischief. Among them is White Cloud's +brother, a sturdy boy of four years.</p> + +<p>Here and there are old men sitting in front +of their lodges and smoking their long pipes. +Inside, the grandmothers are busy preparing +food and dressing skins for clothing.</p> + +<p>Most of the women, like Good Bird, carry +their babies and berry sacks upon their backs; +but some of them have large dogs trained as +burden carriers.</p> + +<p>Here comes Two Joys, the mother of twins. +She is followed by a pair of dogs, each dragging +a strapping brown baby boy.</p> + +<p>One by one, the women and girls wade the +streams and climb the hills, following the trail +that leads to the forest. There they separate, +each to make her own choice of bushes.</p> + +<p>White Cloud's mother chooses a thicket +where the berries are large and abundant. +She fastens her baby's cradle to the top of a +low tree. The wind swings the cradle, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +like the Mother Goose baby, the Indian +papoose rocks on the tree top. Let us hope +that the bough will not break.</p> + +<p>The birds chirp and sing in the branches. +A squirrel comes near to see what strange +object is hanging in his tree. The baby wakes +and cries with fright, and the squirrel scampers +away.</p> + +<p>Good Bird is filling her bags of woven grass +with purple berries. She does not pick them +as we do, but breaks off long branches loaded +with fruit. Then, with a heavy stick, she beats +the branch and the berries fall on a large skin +that is spread on the ground.</p> + +<p>For dinner Good Bird has only dried meat +and the sweet, juicy berries. But she does +not think of wishing for more.</p> + +<p>At last the ripe fruit is gathered. The +baby is fretting, and the mother takes the +cradle from the tree top. She unlaces the bag +and lays the little one on the warm grass.</p> + +<p>Now the fruit must be packed and tied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +and the large skin be rolled up. While the +mother works the child grows restless and +cries. You can never guess why. She is asking +in baby language to be put back on her +stiff board!</p> + +<p>Very soon Good Bird is ready and, with +the cradle and bags strapped to her back, she +starts for home. Other berry pickers loaded +with fruit join her, and together they walk +the trail that leads back to the camp.</p> + +<p>Nokomis is watching for the baby. She +lifts the cradle and hangs it to the lodge pole. +The little one is restless. She turns her head +from side to side, her black eyes shining.</p> + +<p>Then the grandmother sings the owl song +in which Indian babies delight:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah wa nain, ah wa nain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who is this, who is this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving light, light bringing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the roof of my lodge?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The singer changes her voice to imitate +a little screech owl and answers:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It is I—the little owl—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Coming<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down! down! down!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>As she sings, she springs toward the baby +and down goes the little head. How the +papoose laughs and crows! Again Nokomis +sings:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Who is this, eyelight bringing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the roof of my lodge?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is I, hither swinging—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dodge, baby, dodge."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Over and over the lullaby is sung, now +softer and now slower. The eyelids droop, +and the little one is quiet.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> +<h2>NOKOMIS TELLS A STORY</h2> + +<p>Good Bird had prepared the evening meal, +but no one came to eat it. Her husband, +Fleet Deer, was late in returning from the +hunt, and her little son was still shouting and +running with his boy playmates.</p> + +<p>The tired baby slept, and the two women +sat outside the wigwam in the warm June +evening.</p> + +<p>"Now that I have a little daughter, I must +learn all your stories, Nokomis," said Good +Bird. "Suppose you tell one while we wait."</p> + +<p>"I heard a new one last moon," answered +Nokomis. "Our village story-teller has traveled +far from our camp. He visited another +tribe and heard all their stories. I will tell +you the tale he told about the first strawberries:</p> + +<p>"In the very earliest times a young girl +became so angry one day that she ran away +from home. Her family followed her, calling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +and grieving; but she would not answer their +calls, nor even turn her head.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0035-illus" id="i0035-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0035-illus.png" width="500" height="341" alt="Learning new stories" title="Learning new stories"/> +</div> + +<p>"The great sun looked down with pity +from the sky and tried to settle the quarrel. +First he caused a patch of ripe blueberries +to grow in her path.</p> + +<p>"The girl pushed her way through the low +bushes without stooping to pick a berry.</p> + +<p>"Further on the sun made juicy blackberries +grow by the trail, but the runaway +paid no attention to them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>"Then low trees laden with the purple +June berry tempted her, but still she hurried +on.</p> + +<p>"Every kind of berry that the sun had ever +helped to grow, he placed in her path to cause +delay, but without success.</p> + +<p>"The girl still pressed on until she saw +clusters of large ripe strawberries growing in +the grass at her feet.</p> + +<p>"She stooped to pick and to eat. Then she +turned and saw that she was followed.</p> + +<p>"Forgetting her anger, she gathered the +clusters of ripe, red berries and started back +along the path to share them with her family.</p> + +<p>"Then she went home as if nothing had +ever happened!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE FIREFLY DANCE</h2> + +<p>It is a summer evening. There is no moon, +and the stars twinkle brightly in the sky. A +half circle of Indian lodges fronts a small +lake. Wide meadows slope to its shores.</p> + +<p>All the air is alive with lights, twinkling, +whirling, sparkling. Thousands of fireflies +are swarming above the grass.</p> + +<p>The meadow is full of Indian boys and +girls, little and big, dancing the firefly dance. +Advancing and retreating, turning and twisting, +bowing and whirling, they imitate the +moving lights about them and above them.</p> + +<p>In front of the lodges sit the warriors and +the squaws looking on.</p> + +<p>Good Bird is watching every move of her +son. He is one of the most active dancers on +the field.</p> + +<p>"Look, Nokomis!" she says, "No boy is +straighter than your grandson, and there is +no better dancer."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0038-illus" id="i0038-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0038-illus.png" width="500" height="332" alt="A dance" title="A dance"/> +</div> + +<p>Fleet Deer says nothing, but he is thinking +of the time when his son will take part in the +war dance of his tribe.</p> + +<p>Little White Cloud stands by her mother. +She has known three winters and is now a +chubby, pretty little Indian girl.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she begins to imitate her brother. +She throws out her tiny brown arms, turns +round and round, jumps and bows, while +Nokomis and Good Bird shout with laughter.</p> + +<p>Listen! the children are singing. What<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +do they say? It is the song of the fireflies that +we hear.</p> + +<p>Nokomis has chanted the same words and +melody for many a lullaby, and she keeps +time, singing the same song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wau wau tay see, wau wau tay see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flitting white fire insect,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waving white fire bug,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me light before I go to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me light before I go to sleep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, little dancing white fire bug,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, little flitting white fire beast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light me with your bright white flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light me with your little candle."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> +<h2>SWIFT ELK, THE INDIAN BOY</h2> + +<p>Four years have passed since the summer +evening when Good Bird watched her children +in the firefly dance. Her son, Swift Elk, +is now a tall, straight lad of eleven winters. +His sister, four years younger, is a sturdy +little girl, already able to help her mother in +many ways.</p> + +<p>The boy is the pride of the lodge. From +his earliest babyhood he has been trained to +be strong and fearless.</p> + +<p>"Lay him very straight," his father used +to say when the baby boy was placed on his +cradle board. "Do not make his bed too soft. +My son must grow tall and strong, for he will +sometime be a great warrior."</p> + +<p>Since he could first walk he has gone with +his father each day to the lake to take an early +morning bath. Like all Indians, he learned +to swim when he was very small, and he loves +to splash and dive and play in the water.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>Do you suppose that Swift Elk dresses +himself after his bath? He does not think +clothing at all necessary except in winter.</p> + +<p>Does he help his mother in her work about +the lodge? Never! "A boy does not do +squaw's work," he says. "A boy must learn +to hunt and shoot."</p> + +<p>Is he not made to mind? Is he never punished? +Oh, no; he will be a great warrior some +day, and his father says he ought not to be +afraid of any one. And so he lives the wild, +free life of the Indian boy. He spends his day +in play, with no school, no lessons, and no +work to do.</p> + +<p>When the father is at home he teaches the +boy to notice very carefully everything he +sees. He must learn the names of plants and +birds. He must know the habits of animals +and how to hunt them. Above everything, he +must be brave and daring.</p> + +<p>While the men are away hunting, the +younger boys spend the day shooting, fishing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +swimming, and playing games. If they wish +to throw mud balls at each other, no one scolds +them for being dirty. But if one of them +whimpers or cries, his companions will not +let him play. So the Indian boy learns early +in life to bear pain without complaint.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk's father made a little bow and +arrow for his son as soon as he was old enough +to run out of the wigwam. Each summer he +received a larger bow and more destructive +arrows.</p> + +<p>Wherever the boy goes he carries his +weapon, and he is always watching for the +chance to shoot a bird, rabbit, squirrel, or any +wild animal.</p> + +<p>How his mother and grandmother praise +him when he brings home game! "You will +be a great hunter," they say. "Soon you will +be able to go with your father to shoot bear +and deer."</p> + +<p>Swift Elk sleeps on a bed of cedar boughs +covered with skins. As the first-born son, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +has the place of honor. His bed is next to his +father's, close against the inner lining of the +lodge, and nearly opposite the entrance.</p> + +<p>This is the boy's own place, and he is +allowed to decorate it as he wishes. Birds' +wings, feathers, and squirrels' tails show his +skill in hunting.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 100px;"> +<a name="i0043-illus" id="i0043-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0043-illus.png" width="100" height="212" alt="A boy's desire to be older" title="A boy's desire to be older"/> +</div> + +<p>Here he keeps nearly +everything that he owns. +He has hung his bow and arrows +on the lodge pole above +his bed. His snowshoes, tops, +and balls are in a bag of skin +high above the reach of baby +hands.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk looks forward +to the time when he shall be +admitted to the councils of his tribe and take +part in their dances and yearly feasts.</p> + +<p>Like other Indian children, he has been +trained to count time by winters, moons, and +sleeps, and so he does not know his exact age.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +He has never heard of keeping birthdays; but +he has had many feasts given in his honor, +which are the same to him as a party would be +to you.</p> + +<p>When an Indian boy wins a game which +requires great skill, or shows himself brave +in time of danger, his companions shout his +praises.</p> + +<p>They go with him to the door of his lodge, +telling of the brave deed he has performed. +Then they sing and dance in his honor.</p> + +<p>It is expected that the women of the lodge +will show their pleasure by giving each boy +some dainty from the stores of food packed +away for feasts.</p> + +<p>On the day that Swift Elk first shot a rabbit +his father gave a feast for him, inviting all +his relatives. But the most important celebration +of his whole life was when he won a +victory in racing and received his name.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE NAMING OF SWIFT ELK</h2> + +<p>Unlike their sisters, Indian boys are seldom +named in babyhood. Some are known +only as the sons of their fathers. Others bear +the nicknames given by their companions. +But often a boy's name is decided upon by +reason of some important action of his own.</p> + +<p>For the first few years of Swift Elk's life +he was spoken of as the son of Fleet Deer. +When he was quite small, he stood, one evening, +watching the older boys race. They ran +in couples, their companions standing on +either side of the race course. There were +yells of joy for the victors, and jeers and howls +for those who were so unlucky as to trip or +stumble in the way.</p> + +<p>A young hunter standing near noticed the +shining eyes of the little watcher and shouted, +"Give the younger boys a chance!" And so +the son of Fleet Deer was started in the race +with a boy of his own size.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>Once, twice, thrice, did the eager child +outrun his playmate amid shouts and +laughter. His little feet seemed to fly over +the ground.</p> + +<p>"He is as swift as a young elk," said the +bystanders. And before the racing was +ended, the child was called again to the trial +of speed, this time with an older lad. Again +he was first at the goal.</p> + +<p>"He will be a runner like his father," said +the warriors who had come near to watch the +sports of their children.</p> + +<p>Fleet Deer, when a young man, was the +fastest runner in his tribe. And now his +little son had won a race and the father was +proud. He walked slowly toward his lodge +and entered the curtained opening.</p> + +<p>"Prepare a feast in honor of our son," +he said to Good Bird, his wife.</p> + +<p>Standing in front of his wigwam, he +called in a loud voice the names of his brothers +and kinsmen in the camp.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0047-illus" id="i0047-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0047-illus.png" width="500" height="255" alt="A celebration" title="A celebration"/> +</div> + +<p>They came, one by one, entered the low +doorway, and were seated in a circle close to +the inner wall of the wigwam, some on the low +beds and some on mats.</p> + +<p>Nokomis and Good Bird passed to each a +wooden dish containing meat, dried berries, +parched rice, and maple sugar.</p> + +<p>There were many prayers and much smoking +of the long pipe which was passed from +host to guest. Then Fleet Deer led his son to +the middle of the wigwam. The child's face +and body were painted, and his long hair was +braided and wound around his head.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>"You have seen my son outrun his playmates," +said the father. "You know that he +has taken the honors of victory from a companion +that is older and larger. One and +another who watched the race have said that +my son is like a young elk in his running.</p> + +<p>"I was but a lad, my kinsmen, when your +former chief, my father, gave me the name I +bear. He has taken the long journey to the +land of spirits. Will you agree that his grandson +bear the name of Swift Elk?"</p> + +<p>The warriors gravely bowed their heads +in approval. Again the pipe was passed, and +the smoke curled and rose in the lodge.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk, the grandson of a great chief, +had earned his name.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> +<h2>FIRE AND THE FIRE MAKERS</h2> + +<p>"Are you going away, Grandmother? +Take me with you."</p> + +<p>"I am on my way to the forest, White +Cloud. It will be a long walk for you. We +need dry moss and decayed wood for tinder. +Some cold morning we shall wake and find no +red coals in the ashes. Then we shall need +some pieces of the driest of wood to kindle a +new fire."</p> + +<p>"Let me go, and I will help you look for +dry wood. I know I am big enough to be a fire +maker. Haven't I seen seven winters?"</p> + +<p>So Nokomis and White Cloud started on +the trail that led to the wild forest. There +great trees had died and fallen, and the +branches had been decaying for many moons—no +one can tell how many.</p> + +<p>"Is the fire always lost when we move our +camp, Grandmother?"</p> + +<p>"Not always. Some lodge keepers try to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +carry a few coals, and the one who succeeds +is glad to share with others. But one person +is often sent ahead to the new camp to make +a central fire out of doors. You know it takes +a long time to get a spark by rubbing two +sticks together."</p> + +<p>"How did the Indians get fire in the first +place? And how did fire get into wood?" +asked White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, my child. I have heard +all about it from the story-tellers.</p> + +<p>"Once there was only one fire in all the +world. It was kept in a sacred wigwam and +guarded by an old blind man.</p> + +<p>"All the Indians had heard about fire and +wanted very much to get it. But no one knew +where it was hidden.</p> + +<p>"The old man had two daughters who gathered +his wood. He used only the driest +branches, so that no smoke could be seen, and +no odor from the burning of green boughs be +lifted to the wind.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>"But one day a tiny, curling wreath of +smoke rose above the lodge opening.</p> + +<p>"Of course the birds saw it, and flew over +the lodge poles until they discovered the +secret. You may be sure that they chirped +the news wherever they flew.</p> + +<p>"A woodpecker went into a hole in a tree +to carry his mate some food and told her where +fire was kept. He was overheard by a squirrel +running up the tree trunk.</p> + +<p>"'Chip, chip! chatter, chatter! Hear the +squirrels in the tree tops,' said a rabbit. 'What +are they talking about?' By listening he soon +found out.</p> + +<p>"Then Bruin heard the rabbits, and the +bear teased the wolf by letting him know that +the birds had a great secret.</p> + +<p>"A flock of sparrows settled in front of the +wolf's den, and the wolf soon heard all he +wanted to know. He, in turn, told a dog that +sometimes ran with him at night.</p> + +<p>"Of course the dog told the boy he loved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +best, and so the Indians found out where fire +was hidden.</p> + +<p>"'We must have fire,' they said. 'Who will +get it for us?'</p> + +<p>"At last Manabush said that he would try +to get fire for his tribe.</p> + +<p>"Manabush was a daring young Indian +hunter. Like Hiawatha, he spent his life trying +to help his people. He saw how fire was +needed to warm the lodges in winter, and to +cook the raw meat freshly killed in the hunt.</p> + +<p>"So Manabush made a birch canoe and +started across the great lake. When he +reached land he pulled his light canoe out +of the water and carried it on his back to a +near-by thicket. Then he changed himself +into a rabbit and hopped away into the long +grass.</p> + +<p>"Soon there came up a great storm. The +old man guarded the sacred fire with the utmost +care until the rain was over. Then he +went to sleep near the glowing coals.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>"His daughters came out of the lodge to +look at the sky. As they bent down to enter +the low door, they saw a little rabbit lying on +the grass. His fur was wet, and he was trembling +with cold.</p> + +<p>"One of the daughters carried him in and +laid him down where it was warm. The rabbit +hopped nearer the fire.</p> + +<p>"The old man started from his sleep. +'What do I hear?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"'You have heard nothing, Father. We +picked up a little wet rabbit and brought him +in to dry.'</p> + +<p>"The old man closed his eyes again. His +daughters turned and went on with their +work. Quickly the rabbit seized a burning +stick and hopped away by leaps and bounds.</p> + +<p>"Up jumped the old man. 'My fire, my +sacred fire, is stolen!' he cried. His daughters +ran out of the lodge to chase the thief.</p> + +<p>"But the old blind man thought that someone +was in the wigwam. So he snatched a long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +stick and pounded so hard on every side that +he beat some of the fire into a log. This is the +way that fire came to be in wood."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0054-illus" id="i0054-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0054-illus.png" width="500" height="233" alt="The fire maker story" title="The fire maker story"/> +</div> + +<p>"What did the rabbit do, Grandmother?"</p> + +<p>"He ran to the canoe, changed back to a +man, put the fire in a magic bag, and paddled +as fast as he could to his own camp.</p> + +<p>"There he lighted a pile of wood for his +grandmother, and then hurried away to the +Thunderers. They have kept the sacred fire +for the Indians since that day."</p> + +<p>"Who are the Thunderers, Grandmother?" +asked White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"After we have had our dinner I will tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +you the story. Now we will use some of our +dry wood and make a fire."</p> + +<p>"Can I learn to get the fire out of wood?" +asked White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"You will need to try again and again, for +it is not an easy task. Watch me, my child, +and see how it is done."</p> + +<p>Nokomis soon had a pile of dry grass and +twigs. Then she rubbed two pieces of wood +together for a long time. At last a spark flew +from the dry wood and the grass was lighted.</p> + +<p>Meat and birds' eggs were soon roasted in +the hot ashes. After the meal Nokomis and +White Cloud started for home, each with a +bundle of wood strapped to her back.</p> + +<p>"Now I'm ready for the story you promised +me," said White Cloud.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE THUNDERERS</h2> + +<p>"Far in the east, above the sky, the great +Thunderer lives with his two sons. They are +the friends of the whole world. When you +hear their voices be glad, for they are bringing +the gift of rain.</p> + +<p>"In the spring they come from their sky +home with the showers that make the grass +grow and the little plants peep out of the +ground.</p> + +<p>"They water the earth; and the corn comes +up, the sap flows for our sugar, the trees open +their leaves and blossoms, and the berries +ripen.</p> + +<p>"Without their help every growing plant +would turn brown and fade away. The wild +rice and the sugar trees would die. Animals +would search in vain for food, and they would +crawl into their dens and perish.</p> + +<p>"There would be no game for the hunter +to shoot. Then the terrible famine spirits<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +would enter our lodges, and we would sicken +and die.</p> + +<p>"We should never fear the loud voices of +the Thunderers, for they are always good and +kind.</p> + +<p>"They are the war chiefs of the world. +When we see the rainbow, we catch a glimpse +of the splendid robes they wear.</p> + +<p>"In the middle of their great lodge burns +the sacred fire, which they guard for all the +people of the earth."</p> + +<p>"I will never be afraid again when I hear +them speaking," said White Cloud. "But I +like to be in the lodge when they bring their +rain storms. If they come to-day perhaps we +can find a cave in the hills our trail crosses."</p> + +<p>"It would not be safe for us to enter a cave +in the forest," replied Nokomis. "The Little +People might be in it, and they would be +displeased."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE FOREST</h2> + +<p>"And now," said White Cloud, "I want to +hear all about the Little People."</p> + +<p>"Speak low, White Cloud. We are coming +to the rocky hillside. We must listen, for we +may hear them drumming."</p> + +<p>"I wish we could! We would run and try +to see them."</p> + +<p>"It would be far better for us to turn and +run the other way. The Little People do not +like to be disturbed. If they should see us, +they might cast a spell on us."</p> + +<p>"What harm would that do us?" asked the +child.</p> + +<p>"We would forget where we are going and +who we are. We might wander in the woods +until we starved, for we could never find the +trail home."</p> + +<p>"How do the Little People look, and what +do they do? Does anyone know?"</p> + +<p>"They are handsome little men, smaller<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +than the tiniest babies. By daylight they +drum and dance, for they are very fond of +music.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0059-illus" id="i0059-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0059-illus.png" width="500" height="266" alt="Dancing of the little people" title="Dancing of the little people"/> +</div> + +<p>"If they are not disturbed, they are very +kind and helpful, especially to those who are +in trouble. They do not like to be seen, and +will never work if a man or woman, or even +a child, is in sight.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes they come to the cornfield +when it is very dark. If they are heard, no +Indian goes out of the lodge. Often the field +will be found well weeded in the morning and +the earth loose about the growing plants.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>"Once, in the moon of ripe corn, there was +a woman alone with a sick child. She heard +the Little People near her lodge, and she remembered +to be very quiet. In the morning +her corn was all picked for her.</p> + +<p>"If a hunter finds an arrow near the cornfield, +he must say very loud: 'Little People, +will you let me have this arrow?' for it may +have been shot from their bows.</p> + +<p>"If he takes it without asking, he may be +hit with stones as he is walking home."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about the boy who was changed +into a hunter spirit," said White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"There was once a boy," began Nokomis, +"who ran away from home. He grew smaller +and smaller until he became like the spirits +of the woods.</p> + +<p>"But he is full of mischief. You can sometimes +tell what he is doing, although he himself +is never seen.</p> + +<p>"Have you not noticed your dog jump up +quickly from the place where he has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +sleeping? The spirit of the runaway boy is +whipping him with nettles.</p> + +<p>"You will often see a flock of birds suddenly +leave their food and fly away. The little +hunter spirit has frightened them.</p> + +<p>"When the tired hunter stops, far from his +lodge, to roast his meat, the little mischief-maker +blows out his fire and fans the smoke +into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"He catches the arrows which are aimed +at the birds and hides them. He puts slippery +clay in the path and laughs when the children +fall. No one can tell all his tricks of mischief."</p> + +<p>"Grandmother, look! Here is an arrow on +the ground."</p> + +<p>"Let it be. We will not annoy the spirits. +Now we must hurry home, for the clouds +darken and I can hear the loud voices of the +Thunderers starting out from their sky home."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> +<h2>BLACK WOLF TELLS A STORY</h2> + +<p>The boys were practicing with their bows +and arrows. After a few trials, in which little +skill was shown, Swift Elk threw down his +bow. "I'm tired of shooting," he said. "Come +on, boys, let's go to the lake for a swim."</p> + +<p>Black Wolf, the oldest warrior of the tribe, +was sitting on the ground near by, watching +the sport.</p> + +<p>"Do not give up," said the old man. "You +are a big boy now. Only by skill in shooting +can you become a brave warrior. Let no +one know you are tired or weak. Remember +the boy who was changed to the lone lightning +of the North."</p> + +<p>"Tell us the story," Swift Elk begged. +"Then we will practice again and do our +best."</p> + +<p>The boys threw themselves on the ground +near Black Wolf, and he began the story.</p> + +<p>"There was once a little boy who had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +one to care for him. His father had been killed +in war, and his mother taken captive by the +enemy.</p> + +<p>"Minno, the lonely boy, lived in his uncle's +wigwam, but he was not wanted there. He +had hard work to do and very little to eat.</p> + +<p>"He was too weak to join the rough games +of his playmates, and he did not become skillful +with his bow and arrows like the other boys +of the tribe.</p> + +<p>"At last he became so thin from hunger +that the uncle feared his cruel treatment +would become known.</p> + +<p>"So he told his wife to feed the boy with +bear's meat. 'Give him plenty of fat,' he +ordered. 'Cram him with bear's fat.' It was +now the uncle's plan to kill the boy by overfeeding.</p> + +<p>"One day when Minno had been nearly +choked with fat meat, he ran away. He wandered +about in the woods, and when night +came he was afraid of the wild beasts. So he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +climbed into a tall tree and fell asleep in the +branches.</p> + +<p>"In his dreams a person came to him from +the upper sky and said: 'My poor little lad, I +pity you. Follow me, and be sure to step in +my tracks.'</p> + +<p>"So the lad arose and followed his guide +up, up, into the upper sky. There he was given +twelve magic arrows and told to shoot the +manitoes of the North.</p> + +<p>"'They are the evil spirits of the air,' said +his guide. 'You must go to war against them. +I have given you magic arrows that will kill +them if your aim is true.'</p> + +<p>"The boy placed an arrow with great care, +but failed to kill a manito. One, two, three, +four, five, six arrows had left his bow, each +leaving behind it a long streak of lightning. +But not one had reached its mark.</p> + +<p>"Carefully he aimed; seven, eight, nine, +ten, eleven. Alas! his skill was not equal to +his task.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0065-illus" id="i0065-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0065-illus.png" width="500" height="255" alt="A dream" title="A dream"/> +</div> + +<p>"Long he held the twelfth arrow. He +looked around on every side. The evil spirits +had wonderful power, and they could change +their forms in a moment.</p> + +<p>"The boy let his last arrow fly toward the +heart of the chief of the manitoes. But the +evil spirit saw it coming and changed himself +into a rock.</p> + +<p>"'How dare you try to kill me!' cried +the angry manito. 'Now you shall suffer. +You shall evermore be like the trail of your +arrow.'</p> + +<p>"And he changed the boy into the lone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +lightning which you so often see, my children, +in the northern sky."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could shoot as well as I can run," +Swift Elk said. "It is easy to win in the races, +but I can never beat in a shooting match."</p> + +<p>"You can if you will practice more than +the other boys. You remember how the crane +beat the humming bird in a race."</p> + +<p>"Tell us about it, tell us," begged all the +boys. "Then we will shoot our arrows all day +long until the sun hides his face."</p> + +<p>The old man was silent for a time. Then +he said, "I will tell you just one more story. +And you shall keep your word and practice +until the darkness creeps over the earth."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE RACE BETWEEN THE CRANE AND THE<br /> +HUMMING BIRD</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0067-illus" id="i0067-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0067-illus.png" width="500" height="255" alt="A humming bird" title="A humming bird"/> +</div> + +<p>The crane dared the humming bird to a +race. The humming bird was as swift as an +arrow, but the crane flew slowly.</p> + +<p>At the word they both started. The humming +bird was far ahead and he stopped to +roost on a limb; but the crane flew all night.</p> + +<p>The humming bird woke in the morning, +thinking it would be no trouble to win the race. +He was very much surprised when he passed +the crane spearing fish for his breakfast!</p> + +<p>"How did the Slow One get ahead?" he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +thought. "I must start earlier in the morning." +He flew swiftly until dusk, when he +stopped to roost on a tree.</p> + +<p>The crane flew all night. Before morning +he was again ahead, and he had finished his +breakfast when the Swift One passed him.</p> + +<p>"This is indeed strange," thought the +humming bird. "But I can fly a little faster, +and it will be no trouble to win." So he +stopped again, far ahead, to take his usual +sleep.</p> + +<p>The crane flew all night, as usual. He +passed the sleeping humming bird at midnight +and was well on his way before he was +overtaken. The humming bird flew as long +as he could see, and before midnight he was +again ahead.</p> + +<p>Each night the humming bird slept. Each +night the crane flew. "Gaining a little; gaining +a little!" he said to himself.</p> + +<p>Later and later in the day did the Swift +One pass the Slow One. Earlier and earlier<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +in the night did the Slow One pass the Swift +One.</p> + +<p>On the last day of the race the crane was +a night's travel ahead. He took his time at +breakfast. The humming bird passed him +at sundown and stopped to sleep.</p> + +<p>The next morning the humming bird flew +like the wind and reached the goal early in +the day. But there stood the heavy crane +waiting, for he had flown all night!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> +<h2>HUNTING WILD DUCKS</h2> + +<p>Swift Elk had sharpened his arrows and +taken his strongest bow from the wooden peg +over his bed.</p> + +<p>"I have seen wild ducks flying by the lake," +he said. "I am going to hide in the long grass +and watch for them. If they come again, they +shall feel my arrows. To-night we eat roast +duck."</p> + +<p>The boy ran toward the lake. His sister, +White Cloud, watched him until he was out +of sight. "Why can't girls go hunting?" she +said. "I have seen seven winters. I shall +follow his trail."</p> + +<p>The child ran along, hiding behind trees +and bushes, and stepping softly so that no +broken twig could tell of her approach.</p> + +<p>Indian children can see farther and hear +far better than we can. Although the old-time +Indian never went to school, yet he trained +his children to listen to every sound in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +forest, and to notice all signs of animal life.</p> + +<p>When White Cloud was near the lake, she +hid in a clump of bushes and watched. Just in +sight was a little stream winding through the +low meadow.</p> + +<p>She saw Swift Elk run along its banks. +She waited without moving—waited as only +an Indian child knows how to wait.</p> + +<p>At last, far off, she saw a speck in the sky, +then another and another. The specks grew +larger. She held her breath.</p> + +<p>A flock of wild ducks flew across the lake. +Near the shore they turned and flew over the +low meadow where the boy hunter was hiding +in the high grass.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the swift arrows flew. One, two, +three, four ducks were hit and fell to the +ground. Swift Elk picked up three and swung +them over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>He looked a long time for the fourth duck. +Then, seeing another flock approaching, he +ran toward the lake shore.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>Again he was fortunate in choosing the +place of their approach. White Cloud saw +more arrows fly, and more ducks fall. Swift +Elk ran on out of sight.</p> + +<p>Then the little girl crawled from her +hiding-place and crept along the ground in +search of the missing duck. Surely there was +something stirring in the long grass ahead. +Almost afraid to move, the child crept closer +and closer, until she saw a duck with a broken +wing hanging useless by its side.</p> + +<p>In a moment she had caught it. She held +the bird in her arms until its struggles ceased. +Then she bound its wing to its body with long +pieces of grass.</p> + +<p>She crawled to the stream and dropped +water in its bill. The duck swallowed the +water but refused all food.</p> + +<p>White Cloud watched every movement in +the distance, not daring to stand lest Swift +Elk return. So she worked her way, concealed +by high grass, to the home trail.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>How she ran until she reached the low wigwam +built for her dolls! Here she made a soft +bed for the wounded bird. She smoothed its +feathers and talked to it. How happy she was +when she was able to coax the duck to eat the +food she offered!</p> + +<p>Swift Elk came home at night with all the +game he could carry. His mother praised his +hunting, and his father was pleased because +he had passed the entire day alone and without +a mouthful of food.</p> + +<p>"You must endure hunger and thirst, cold +and heat, danger and pain, if you would become +a great warrior," said his father. "And +you must find your way alone through the +forest for miles and miles, listening every +moment for the footsteps of an enemy or the +approach of a wild beast."</p> + +<p>A fire had been made in front of the lodge. +The ducks were buried, feathers and all, in +the hot ashes. White Cloud brought wild berries +and water from the spring. As soon as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +the birds were roasted the feathers and skins +were pulled off and the hungry boy enjoyed +his meal.</p> + +<p>But White Cloud watched her chance to +carry part of her own food to the duck. How +she hated to leave him when the dark came +on! But she fastened the shelter securely, +hoping that no lurking fox or weasel would +force his way inside.</p> + +<p>The next morning White Cloud was up +before her brother. She hid in the tiny lodge, +to protect her pet until Swift Elk had left for +the day.</p> + +<p>The duck soon became so tame that it followed +her wherever she went. The difficulty +in taming the wild creature, and the constant +danger of losing it, led the child to be as kind +and patient with her pet as an Indian mother +is with her papoose.</p> + +<p>One day Good Bird was roasting deer +meat. She had made a hot fire in front of the +lodge. Sticks sharpened at both ends were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +driven in the ground close to the bed of coals. +The sticks were bent toward the fire, and each +one held a large piece of raw meat.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0075-illus" id="i0075-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0075-illus.png" width="500" height="299" alt="A tamed duck" title="A tamed duck"/> +</div> + +<p>When the meat was tender, Good Bird +called her little daughter. "My father is old," +she said. "He can no longer hunt. Take some +of this roast meat to him."</p> + +<p>White Cloud took the dish and went to her +grandfather's lodge, the duck waddling behind +her. After the old man had eaten, White +Cloud said, "Grandfather, do you know any +stories about ducks?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>"Point to the north, my grandchild, and +tell me who live in the land of ice and snow."</p> + +<p>"North Wind and Old Winter," answered +the child.</p> + +<p>"And what do they do, little one?"</p> + +<p>"They send the game far from my father's +arrows. They freeze our food and try to starve +us. North Wind gives the war whoop as he +flies in the forest.</p> + +<p>"Then Old Winter comes like the Indians +on the war trail. We cannot see him, and we +cannot hear him. He does not break a twig, +and his footsteps make no sound. He crowds +into our lodge, and tries to steal our fire and +freeze us. I wish he would never come again!"</p> + +<p>"We must be brave, my grandchild. We +must make ready with food and firewood to +fight his power. I will tell you of a brave little +duck that even North Wind could not conquer."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2>A BRAVE DUCK</h2> + +<p>Far to the north lived Wild Duck. His +lodge was by the frozen lake. Winter was +beginning, and he had but four logs of wood +for his fire.</p> + +<p>"Four logs will do," he said. "Each log +will burn for many sleeps, and then spring +will be on the way."</p> + +<p>Wild Duck was as brave as a warrior. On +the coldest days he went to the lake to fish. +He found the rushes that grew high above the +water. With his strong bill he pulled up the +frozen plant stems. Then he dived through +the holes he had made in the ice and caught +the fish swimming beneath.</p> + +<p>In this way he found plenty of food. Every +day he went home to his lodge dragging +strings of fish. North Wind blew his fiercest +blasts, but no wind was cold enough to keep +Wild Duck in his wigwam.</p> + +<p>"This is a strange duck!" said North Wind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +"He seems as happy as if it were the moon of +strawberries. He is hard to conquer, but I +will freeze him."</p> + +<p>So the wind blew colder and colder, and +great drifts of snow were piled up about the +wigwam. But still the fire burned brightly. +The duck went daily to the lake, and daily he +brought home fish.</p> + +<p>"Soon I will visit him," said North Wind. +"Then he shall feel my power."</p> + +<p>That very night North Wind went to the +door of the wigwam. He lifted the curtain +and looked in.</p> + +<p>Wild Duck had cooked his fish and was +lying before the bright fire. He was singing +a song to his enemy.</p> + +<p>"You may blow as hard as you can, North +Wind," he sang. "I dare you to freeze me. +You may pile the snow to the top of my lodge. +I shall climb the drifts and go fishing just the +same."</p> + +<p>"How dare a little duck sing like this about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +me?" blustered North Wind. "I will enter. I +will blow my cold breath upon him, and he +will freeze."</p> + +<p>North Wind pushed his way through the +door and sat down on the opposite side of +the lodge. Cold blasts filled the hut.</p> + +<p>Was Wild Duck afraid? He got up +and poked the fire, singing his song louder +and louder. Not once did he look at his +guest.</p> + +<p>"Does he not know that I am here?" +thought North Wind.</p> + +<p>The little duck stirred the great log until +it crackled and snapped.</p> + +<p>"I cannot stand this heat," said North +Wind to himself. "I am melting. I must go +out." The water was dripping from his hair, +and tears ran down his cheeks. He crept out +of the wigwam and left Wild Duck to his +songs.</p> + +<p>"What a wonderful duck!" he said. "I +cannot freeze him, I cannot even stop his singing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +The spirit of the fire is helping him, and +I will let him alone."</p> + +<p>And to this day you can see the wild duck +fishing where the rushes grow. He is warm in +his coat of thick feathers, and North Wind +can never freeze the brave little duck.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<a name="i0080-illus" id="i0080-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0080-illus.png" width="100" height="102" alt="A wild duck" title="A wild duck"/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> +<h2>SUMMER SPORTS</h2> + +<p>Swift Elk and his companions were cutting +great chunks of clay from the bank +near the stream. Soon a crowd of boys, each +armed with a large piece of clay and a long +green switch, ran shouting to the near-by +forest.</p> + +<p>Here they divided into two bands for a +sham battle, and all hid behind trees. Balls +of clay were pressed on the ends of the slender +sticks and thrown, as you would throw green +apples.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk ran out from behind the tree +where he had been hiding. Quickly he threw +mud balls at every boy that he saw peeping +at him.</p> + +<p>Other boys rushed from their sheltering +tree trunks to dare the opposing forces. +A shower of mud balls filled the air. There +were shouts and war whoops, advances and +retreats.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>Dogs, barking and jumping, rushed into +battle with their masters.</p> + +<p>When the clay was all used, the boys ran +to the bank for more. For half a day the fight +went on, many prisoners being taken on both +sides.</p> + +<p>Here and there were young braves who +had been hit in the face and badly hurt. One +was suffering great pain with a swollen eye.</p> + +<p>Do you think he left the game and ran +home? Do you think he cried or told tales? +A boy would rather stand pain than be +laughed at by his companions. "Tears are +for girls and women," they had all heard +their fathers say. "A warrior must not notice +pain."</p> + +<p>At last, heated and mud-stained, they ran +to the lake and jumped in. You would have +thought they all needed a bath, could you have +seen them.</p> + +<p>Splashing and swimming, diving and yelling, +they continued their battle by wrestling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +in the water. The day wore on. One by one, +tired with action, they left the lake. Some +lay on the grass, and others made images of +animals with soft clay.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0083-illus" id="i0083-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0083-illus.png" width="500" height="425" alt="Tired of playing" title="Tired of playing"/> +</div> + +<p>Two or three boys, very hungry, shot some +birds, made a fire, and roasted their game. It +mattered not to them that their food was far +from clean.</p> + +<p>Before they went home at night, Swift<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +Elk's band dared the other side to a ball game, +to be played the next morning.</p> + +<p>"Let us ask Black Wolf to watch our +game," said Swift Elk. All agreed. The old +warrior could not go on the long hunt or the +warpath, and nothing gave him greater pleasure +than to help the boys and young men in +their games of strength or skill.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<a name="i0084-illus" id="i0084-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0084-illus.png" width="100" height="75" alt="A bow and arrows" title="A bow and arrows"/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BALL GAME</h2> + +<p>Early in the morning the boys met on the +level piece of ground that had been selected +for the game. At each end of the field two +upright poles, a little distance apart, were +erected for goal sticks.</p> + +<p>In the great ball games played by the men, +each side is allowed but one goal stick, which +must be hit by the ball. As this is very difficult, +Black Wolf helped the boys set up two +very long sticks, between which the winner's +ball was to be thrown.</p> + +<p>Each player always carries a ball stick +bent at one end into a small hoop or ring. +Strips of rawhide are passed through holes +in the hoop, making a netted pocket in which +the ball may rest half hidden.</p> + +<p>The one simple rule that each player +follows at all times is: "Keep the ball away +from your own goal." Only by sending +the ball off the field between the two goal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +sticks of the opposite side can victory be won.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk and Antelope were chosen captains +because they were good runners. All +the best players stood in the middle of the field. +The younger boys were grouped about the goal +sticks with orders to send the ball back into +the field.</p> + +<p>At a signal from Black Wolf, Antelope +tossed the ball into the air. It was caught by +a player on his own side, who started to run +in the opposite direction from his own goal +sticks.</p> + +<p>The ball was knocked out of his hand and +thrown the other way. Back and forth it went +until Antelope caught it in his ball stick. He +started at full speed toward the goal on Swift +Elk's side.</p> + +<p>In a moment he was caught and the ball +again turned. Running, screaming, throwing, +pushing, striking each other's arms with ball +sticks, the boys rushed together.</p> + +<p>At last Antelope's side gained the advantage.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +Nearer and nearer the ball came to +Swift Elk's goal sticks. One strong throw, +and the game would be won. Antelope's players +danced and yelled with joy.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a younger boy, one of the poor +players who was made to stand on guard, +caught the ball and sent it whizzing toward +Swift Elk.</p> + +<p>The other side, sure of success, was taken +by surprise. Before Antelope could turn, +Swift Elk had the start and was speeding +toward the opposite goal.</p> + +<p>"Never was there a finer race," Black Wolf +thought. All the boys had crowded together +at one end of the line to see the victory, leaving +an open field for the two fleetest runners.</p> + +<p>You would have liked to see the two Indian +lads with painted bodies running like the +wind. They were followed by a crowd of boys +shouting, howling, rushing, pushing, and trying +in vain to overtake them.</p> + +<p>But not even Antelope could regain the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +advantage he lost in starting. Swift Elk +swung his stick and sent the ball spinning +between the two poles of the goal. He had +won the game for his side.</p> + +<p>After the victors had shouted themselves +hoarse, they lay down on the ground near +Black Wolf and asked for a story.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," said the old man, "of the +most wonderful ball game the world ever saw. +It happened long ago when the animals ruled +the land and there were no people on the +earth."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ANIMALS AND THE BIRDS PLAY BALL</h2> + +<p>Once the animals dared the birds to play +a game of ball with them. The birds chose the +eagle for their captain, and the animals chose +the bear.</p> + +<p>They all talked at the same time, trying to +make their plans. When should they play? +Where should they play? "Leave that to the +eagle and the bear," said the deer. And all +agreed.</p> + +<p>At the appointed time the animals met on +a smooth, grassy plain and the birds in a tree +top near by.</p> + +<p>Captain Bear was so large and heavy that +he could pull down anyone who came in his +way. All along the trail to the ball ground he +tossed up great logs to show his strength; and +he bragged of what he would do to the birds +when the game began.</p> + +<p>The turtle, at that time, was very much +larger than he is now. His shell was so hard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +that the heaviest blows could not hurt him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0090-illus" id="i0090-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0090-illus.png" width="500" height="295" alt="A gathering of animals" title="A gathering of animals"/> +</div> + +<p>He, too, was a great brag. Again and +again he rose on his hind feet and dropped +heavily to the ground. "Look at me," he said. +"See how I will crush any bird that tries to +take the ball from me." The swift deer, the +mountain goat, and the rabbit were at their +best speed. Indeed, the animals had a fine +team.</p> + +<p>The eagle gathered his forces together. +There was the hawk, strong and swift, and the +wild geese that can fly without resting. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +black martin was there and the crow, with a +host of other birds. The blue jay was chosen +to scream in the ears of the animal players, +and the humming bird to fly in their eyes.</p> + +<p>The birds looked at the great animals on +the field below, and were afraid. Just then +two little things hardly larger than field mice +climbed the tree where sat the bird captain.</p> + +<p>They begged to join the game.</p> + +<p>"You have four feet; why do you not go to +the animals, where you belong?" asked the +eagle.</p> + +<p>"We did," said the little things, "but they +drove us off because we are so small."</p> + +<p>"Let them play, let them play," called out +the birds in pity.</p> + +<p>But how could they join the birds when +they had no wings? The eagle and the hawk +consulted, and it was decided to make wings +for the little fellows. What could they find +for wings?</p> + +<p>At last someone remembered the drum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +they used in their dances. The head was made +of ground-hog skin. So they took the drumhead, +cut two wings, and made the bat.</p> + +<p>Then they threw the ball to him. The bat +dodged and circled about, keeping the ball +always in the air; and the birds soon saw that +he would be one of their best men.</p> + +<p>The other little animal came for wings, but +there was no more leather. What could be +done? Two birds thought they might enable +him to fly by stretching his skin. Thus was +the flying squirrel made.</p> + +<p>To try him, the bird captain threw up the +ball. The flying squirrel sprang off the limb +after it, caught it in his teeth, and carried it +to another tree below.</p> + +<p>All were now ready. The signal was given +and the game began. At the first toss the +flying squirrel caught the ball and carried it +up a tree. He threw it to the birds, who kept +it in the air for some time, until it dropped.</p> + +<p>The bear rushed to get it, but the martin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +darted after it and threw it to the bat. By +dodging and doubling, the bat kept it out of +the way of the swift deer. And now the game +was close. The great deer could not turn as +quickly as the bat, and so he lost the game. +The little bat threw the ball between the posts +and won the victory for the birds.</p> + +<p>And the bear and the turtle, who had done +the most bragging, did not have a chance even +to touch the ball.</p> + +<p>For saving the ball when it dropped, the +martin was given a gourd to build his nest in. +And he still has it, for you can often see a +gourd on a post near the Indian lodges.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> +<h2>GATHERING WILD RICE</h2> + +<p>"Have you seen the beautiful new canoe +father has just finished?" asked White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"Seen it! I helped make it," answered +Swift Elk. "I cut nearly all the birch bark."</p> + +<p>"Your father has it ready for the wild-rice +harvest," said Good Bird. "To-day I go +to tie the stalks. You are to help me, White +Cloud."</p> + +<p>Nothing could have pleased the little girl +better. All summer she had hoped for this +great pleasure. From a low hill near her home +she had watched the growth of the rice.</p> + +<p>When the June berries were ripe, the first +shoots came up near the shore of the lake. In +a few weeks the rice beds looked like beautiful +green islands in the water.</p> + +<p>And when the yellow-green blossoms +opened, she coaxed her father to take her in +his canoe to the rice plants. She picked the +flowers, shaded with reddish purple, and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +saw the spreading mass of blossoms, their +straw-colored anthers moving with every +breeze.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk was very proud of the new canoe. +He had made the paddles, and had cut the +forked sticks that would be needed to force +the boat through the shallow water.</p> + +<p>"When the rice is ripe, I'll go with you and +manage the boat," he said to his mother. +"When you come home to-night, White Cloud, +bring some green rice to parch for supper."</p> + +<p>"I'll have some all ready for you," promised +his sister. "You shoot a deer to-day, and +to-night we'll have a feast. We'll ask grandfather, +and perhaps he'll tell us a story."</p> + +<p>Soon Good Bird was paddling rapidly +toward the rice beds. It was a beautiful morning, +and White Cloud was as happy as any +little girl could ever be.</p> + +<p>For many weeks she had helped her mother +prepare the string for tying the rice stalks. +It was cut from the inner bark of the basswood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +tree. The narrow bands were wound in a ball +so large that the child could hardly reach +around it.</p> + +<p>"Why do you tie the wild rice stalks, +Mother?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"So that our little brothers, the birds, can +not eat all our grain," answered Good Bird. +"All the bunches we have tied are our own, +and will be more easily harvested. No friendly +Indian ever touches the heads of rice bound +together by another."</p> + +<p>With a curved stick Good Bird pulled a +mass of stalks within her reach and bound the +heads firmly together with the narrow strips +of bark. For hours she worked, forcing her +way through the thick mass of water plants +and tying the stalks on both sides of the canoe.</p> + +<p>"May I come here again with you when the +wild rice is ripe?" asked White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"It will take two strong women to gather +the harvest, my child; but the canoe is very +long and I think you can help."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0097-illus" id="i0097-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0097-illus.png" width="500" height="339" alt="Harvesting rice" title="Harvesting rice"/> +</div> + +<p>"How is it done, Mother?" asked the child.</p> + +<p>"Swift Elk will sit at one end of the canoe +and paddle. Nokomis will bend the stalks +over the boat and untie the long pieces of bark, +and I shall beat the heads with a stick. The +grain will fall until the boat holds as much as +it is safe to carry."</p> + +<p>"Are we going to take home any to-day?" +asked White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; when the rice is not quite ripe it +is just right for parching. As soon as my rows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +are all tied, you shall help me gather the +greenish kernels."</p> + +<p>Good Bird worked until she had used all +her string. The long rows of heads, neatly +tied, looked very fine.</p> + +<p>New plants were found, and the stalks +beaten with a stick. The rice fell into the +canoe, and White Cloud found it was good to +eat even without cooking. By sunset the bottom +of the canoe was covered with grain, and +they started home across the quiet lake.</p> + +<p>"May we have maple sugar with our rice +to-night, Mother?"</p> + +<p>"There is very little left, my daughter. +I think we would better save it for winter."</p> + +<p>"When are we going to the sugar trees to +make more?"</p> + +<p>"After the winter is nearly over and the +first crow comes to tell us that the sap is flowing. +Then we will move to our sugar lodge +and stay for a whole moon."</p> + +<p>"May I take care of a kettle and boil sugar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +next time we go to the lodge?" asked White +Cloud, "By that time I can count eight +winters."</p> + +<p>"You may if you will cut birch bark and +make your own sap dishes. You will need a +great many."</p> + +<p>"Why can't we eat the sugar we have, +Mother? What is the use of saving it?"</p> + +<p>"There may be little food on the cold, +snowy days that are coming. We shall need +the sugar more then than we do now. Have +you forgotten the story of the ant and the +katydid?"</p> + +<p>"Tell it again. Tell it now before we get +home, Mother."</p> + +<p>"I think there is time, as it is a short story," +said Good Bird. And White Cloud listened +to the tale of the lazy katydid and the hard-working +ant while the canoe moved slowly +across the quiet lake.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ANT AND THE KATYDID</h2> + +<p>The oldest ant was building an underground +home. Through the long summer days +she worked, carrying out a grain of sand at a +time. Then she filled her storehouse with food +for the winter.</p> + +<p>Her work was finished just as the frost +came to mow down the growing plants. All +summer the katydid called from the trees, +and the locust danced and buzzed in the sunshine.</p> + +<p>When winter came, the oldest ant was +warm and comfortable and she had enough +food for her daily needs.</p> + +<p>But the locust and the katydid were cold +and hungry. "Why should we freeze?" +chirped the katydid. "The ant has a warm +house." "And why should we be hungry?" +said the locust. "The ant has plenty of food." +So together they went to the home of the +oldest ant.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>"Let us in, let us in, kind ant," they cried. +"We are cold and hungry."</p> + +<p>"What did you do through the warm +weather?" asked the oldest ant.</p> + +<p>"We played in the sunshine. We chirped +and buzzed and sang."</p> + +<p>"Did you build no lodge? Could you not +store food for the time of frost and storm?"</p> + +<p>"We had no need to work when the summer +was here with its warmth and beauty. +We danced away the happy hours."</p> + +<p>"Go dance away the winter, then," said the +oldest ant. "I worked hard through all the +long summer days, and I had no time to dance +or sing."</p> + +<p>The locust and the katydid turned away +shivering. "It is not fair," they said, "that the +ant has plenty and we have nothing. She +should be forced to let us in."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW WILD RICE WAS DISCOVERED</h2> + +<p>When Good Bird and White Cloud +reached home, they found great rejoicing. +Swift Elk had shot his first deer, and the +meat was already roasting by an outdoor fire.</p> + +<p>The hunters had found game in abundance +that day, and many feasts were already +called in the village.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk had chosen to invite only his +grandparents, and they were already listening +to his story of the hunt.</p> + +<p>White Cloud made haste to parch the +rice, and soon a very hungry family was enjoying +the fresh and abundant food.</p> + +<p>After the supper the children asked their +grandfather to tell them stories about wild +rice.</p> + +<p>The old man remembered more than one +fierce battle for the possession of the rice +fields. Many years had passed since the peace +pipe was last smoked, and the children had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +lived without being in constant fear of war.</p> + +<p>"My grandchildren," he said, "I will tell +you how rice came to be used in the earliest +times. There are many stories about Manabush, +and you have heard how he wrestled +with Mondamin and obtained the gift of +corn.</p> + +<p>"In his early youth Manabush lived with +his grandmother, who taught him his duty to +his people.</p> + +<p>"One day she said to him: 'My grandson, +you are old enough to prove yourself a man. +Before you can become a great warrior you +must show that you are able to endure many +hardships without complaint.</p> + +<p>"'Set forth on a long journey alone and +without food. Travel through unknown forests, +enduring hunger and thirst. Sleep on +the cold ground, and pray for a vision that +shall be your guide through life.'</p> + +<p>"Manabush took his bow and arrows and +went out into the forest. He fasted many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +days until he became weak and faint from +hunger.</p> + +<p>"In his wanderings he drew near the shore +of a lake. Great beds of wild rice filled half its +waters, but Manabush did not know that the +seeds were good to eat.</p> + +<p>"As he walked along within reach of the +growing plants, he heard a soft voice say, +'Sometimes they eat us.'</p> + +<p>"'Who is speaking?' he asked. All the +bushes that grew so thickly in the water +seemed full of whispers. He looked about and +saw birds of many kinds feeding on the tall +grass-like plants.</p> + +<p>"So he picked some of the grain and ate +it. 'Oh, but you are good! What do they +call you?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"Again the rustling whispers in the tall +grass seemed to say, 'Wild rice. They call us +wild rice!'</p> + +<p>"Manabush waded out into the water and +beat the grain from the heads. So his fast was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +broken by the new food given in answer to his +prayers in the forest.</p> + +<p>"And since that time, my children, the wild +rice feeds thousands of our people every year. +It grows without planting in the lakes and +rivers of our forest land.</p> + +<p>"Another story tells us that Manabush +returned one day from a long hunt without +game. The fire in front of his lodge was still +burning, and a duck was sitting on the kettle +eating boiled rice.</p> + +<p>"Manabush tasted the new food and found +it good. He followed the bird to a lake not far +away where wild rice had grown and ripened. +Afterwards boiled rice became a common food +among his tribe."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> +<h2>MOVING THE DOLLS' CAMP</h2> + +<p>White Cloud ran out of her wigwam home. +Her work was done, and a happy time of play +was before her.</p> + +<p>She hurried through the tall grass toward +a near-by lodge, calling: "Flying Squirrel, +come and play with me."</p> + +<p>The skin curtain hanging over the lodge +door was raised and a little head appeared. +But there was no squirrel to be seen, only +an Indian girl with the blackest of hair and +eyes.</p> + +<p>Her playmates had given her the name of +Flying Squirrel because she was always +climbing trees and jumping from one branch +to another.</p> + +<p>"Bring your dolls," said White Cloud. +"We'll build lodges for them. Come as soon +as you can, for my baby is trying to get away."</p> + +<p>"Your baby! What do you mean? Where +did you find a baby?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>White Cloud was rejoicing in a family of +young puppies—new playthings for her. She +had bound one of them to a board, and had tied +the board cradle to her back, as a squaw carries +a papoose.</p> + +<p>"Be still! Be still, bad baby!" she cried to +her squirming pet. But the little dog would +not be still. He howled louder and louder, +and struggled so hard that he broke away +from his cords and bands.</p> + +<p>"Bad baby! Bad baby!" said White Cloud. +"Next time I'll tie you tighter!"</p> + +<p>Flying Squirrel brought out an armful of +dolls, and the children went to the bushes to +cut long straight sticks. They soon found +enough poles for their dolls' wigwams. Each +child set up her sticks in a circle, bringing +them together at the top.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll hunt birch bark," said Flying +Squirrel. "My father has made me a new +knife."</p> + +<p>Soon the small lodges were covered with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +long strips of bark and the floors sprinkled +with cedar twigs.</p> + +<p>"I wish we had skin covers for our dolls' +wigwams," said White Cloud.</p> + +<p>Flying Squirrel looked at the even strips +of bark that were well placed around her +frame of slender poles. "Lots of people +have bark covers," she replied. "My father +has seen whole villages of bark-covered +lodges."</p> + +<p>"When the peace pipe was smoked over +west, my father was there," said White Cloud. +"Now we can get big skins in trade, and sometime +we'll have ponies. Have you ever seen +a pony, Flying Squirrel?"</p> + +<p>"No; but my father saw white men when +he went north in the moon of snow to trade +furs. He says the tribes west will come and +fight us again for our rice beds. Let's play a +war is coming and move our camp. Where +are your dolls, White Cloud?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't bring them, for I had my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +puppy baby. You have dolls enough for both +of us."</p> + +<p>Flying Squirrel gave her playmate two of +the queerest-looking dolls you ever saw. They +were rolls of deerskin with faces painted in +black on the ends.</p> + +<p>The children tied the smaller dolls in board +cradles, hung them to the lodge poles, and +sang lullabies.</p> + +<p>Good Bird had packed a basket of food for +her little daughter. Dried meat, berries, +parched rice, and corn made a fine feast. All +were invited, even the puppy, and the largest +dolls were honored guests.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had my new beaded bag to show +you," said White Cloud. "I shall put my +doll's best clothes in it and hang it over +her bed. Are you learning to sew, Flying +Squirrel?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like to sew. I would rather climb +trees. It's time to move now. Let's get +ready. We will go to the stream that flows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +into the lake." And Flying Squirrel began to +whistle for her dogs.</p> + +<p>"My big dog is home with the rest of her +puppies. May I have one of yours?" asked +White Cloud. "Last moon my father visited +a friendly camp. There were thirty lodges +and more dogs than he could count. I wish he +had brought me another big one."</p> + +<p>White Cloud did not say "thirty," for she +knew no word for so large a number. She +raised her ten fingers three times, just as she +had seen her father do.</p> + +<p>Flying Squirrel called her dogs, and they +came running to her. She had begun to train +them to draw loads, and they stood quite still +while the girls harnessed them for moving. +The bark covers of the two lodges were taken +off and carefully rolled. Then the lodge +poles were corded in two long straight +bundles. Flying Squirrel crossed the small +ends and fastened them above the dog's back. +The large ends dragged on the ground.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0111-illus" id="i0111-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0111-illus.png" width="500" height="307" alt="Harnessed dogs" title="Harnessed dogs"/> +</div> + +<p>Back of the dog the sticks were held in +place by two cross pieces of wood carefully +tied a little way apart. Between the cross +pieces was a strong netting that hung down +like a shallow bag. The dolls and rolls of bark +were laid in one of the nets. What should the +other dog carry?</p> + +<p>"I know," exclaimed White Cloud. "My +puppy shall have a ride." He was caught and +firmly tied. The net was a comfortable bed, +and he made no objection.</p> + +<p>Soon the camp was packed, and the children<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +started. The dogs trotted along quietly, +and everything went well for a time. As they +came near the little stream where they wished +to set their camp, a rabbit ran across the trail. +Away went the dogs.</p> + +<p>The rabbit leaped over the narrow stream. +One of the dogs plunged after him, and out +went the dolls and bark into the water.</p> + +<p>The other dog shook himself free from his +harness. The lodge poles he was dragging +turned upside down, holding the howling +puppy in the mud.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my puppy will drown!" cried White +Cloud as she dashed down the muddy banks +in rescue.</p> + +<p>"My dolls! My best dolls are spoiled!" +mourned Flying Squirrel.</p> + +<p>Soon the dogs were called back, everything +found, the dolls bathed and laid out to dry. +Then the lodges were set up, and the children +rested in the sun.</p> + +<p>As they looked about, White Cloud saw a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +feather lying on the grass. It was painted, +as if it had fallen from a warrior's bonnet.</p> + +<p>"You had better take that feather to your +father now," said Flying Squirrel. "Perhaps +there is going to be a war, and a spy has passed +this way. I am afraid. I shall pack all my +things and go home with my dogs.</p> + +<p>"Here, put this leaf around it and run to +your mother. She will know what to do."</p> + +<p>Away ran White Cloud, holding a sprawling +puppy in her arms and trying to protect +the feather, which she had concealed in a +large leaf.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> +<h2>FINDING A WAR FEATHER</h2> + +<p>"Look, Mother; look at the big feather +I have found. It is not like the ones in my +father's war bonnet."</p> + +<p>Good Bird took the feather and examined +it carefully.</p> + +<p>"Where did you find it, White Cloud?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"Near the little stream that runs into the +lake. Flying Squirrel and I have moved our +dolls' lodges this morning."</p> + +<p>"You must take the feather to your father +at once. It may be that some enemy is planning +war and getting ready to surprise our +camp.</p> + +<p>"Then you must move your dolls and their +lodge near by where I can see you play. You +may be in danger.</p> + +<p>"Your father is spearing fish in the lake. +Now run to him. Let no one see the feather, +and do not turn aside to talk to any one like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +the little hare that did not mind its mother."</p> + +<p>"When will you tell me the story of the +hare?" asked White Cloud.</p> + +<p>"Do not talk about stories now. Run along. +You must not wait a minute. I will watch you +all the way. Your father, I think, will come +back with you."</p> + +<p>White Cloud soon found her father. He +left his fishing and returned with his little +daughter.</p> + +<p>A council of the tribe was called, for the +strange feather had been dropped by no +friendly Indian.</p> + +<p>Then the medicine drum was beaten to call +the people together. They were told of the +danger, and there was a great stir in the village. +Everything was made ready for sudden +moving in case of attack. All the trained dogs +were called and tied in the wigwams of their +owners.</p> + +<p>A guard of young Indians was placed on +watch for the night. Fleet Deer came late<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +to his lodge, and after eating he joined the +warriors.</p> + +<p>As nothing more could be done, Good Bird +comforted her frightened little daughter by +stories. Swift Elk pretended to be very +brave. He did not run out of the wigwam as +usual, but lay on the ground and listened to +his mother.</p> + +<p>"Now, my daughter," she said, "I'll tell +you the story you asked for this morning."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LYNX AND THE HARE</h2> + +<p>Once a little hare asked her mother if she +might play on the big rock near the lodge.</p> + +<p>"Yes, little one, but you must not leave +the rock. And be sure that you do not speak +to any stranger who passes by," replied her +mother.</p> + +<p>Now the rock was low near the lodge, but +very high on the other side, where it overlooked +a stream.</p> + +<p>A hungry lynx saw the little hare jumping +on the high rock. "I must have that hare for +my dinner," he said. So he spoke in a kind +voice. "Wabose, Wabose. Come here, my +little white one."</p> + +<p>The hare went to the edge of the rock and +looked down.</p> + +<p>"Come here, pretty Wabose. I want to +talk with you," said the lynx in a coaxing +voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said the hare. "I am afraid of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +you. My mother told me not to talk to +strangers."</p> + +<p>"You are very pretty, and you are a good, +obedient child. But I am not a stranger. +I am a relative of yours. Go down the rock +and come to the stream where I can see you +better. I want to send some word to your +lodge. Come down and see me, you pretty +little hare."</p> + +<p>The hare was pleased to be praised and +called pretty. When she heard that the lynx +was a relative, she forgot to obey her mother.</p> + +<p>She jumped down from the rock where she +stood and trotted to the stream. There the +lynx pounced upon her and tore her to pieces.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know any war stories?" asked +Swift Elk.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I heard one in the moon of snow that +you will like," answered his mother.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW THE ANIMALS SAVED THE TRIBE</h2> + +<p>Once there was an Indian village in great +danger. The trail of the enemy had been +found on every side of the camp.</p> + +<p>The women were making ready for flight. +They had harnessed their dogs to the dragging +poles. The rawhide netting between the +braces that held the poles in place was packed +with household goods.</p> + +<p>An attack was expected in the early morning. +Guards were stationed to call the men +to battle, and to tell the women which way to +flee with their children.</p> + +<p>The warriors all were ready. Their chief +went out alone under the stars, and prayed +that he might be able to save his people from +death.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a deer with branching horns +stood before him. "I have come to tell you +that your prayers are heard," he said.</p> + +<p>"We, the animals, invite you to our council.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +We shall give you the power to save your +tribe."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0120-illus" id="i0120-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0120-illus.png" width="500" height="308" alt="At the opening of a cave" title="At the opening of a cave"/> +</div> + +<p>They traveled on together until they came +to a cave under a rocky bluff near the river. +Here the warrior chief was welcomed and +given the seat of honor.</p> + +<p>Every animal of field and forest, and every +bird of the air, had gathered in the immense +cavern. There was silence for a moment. +Then a great eagle flapped his wings. He +stood on a jutting rock in sight of all.</p> + +<p>"Your acts of kindness, oh, warrior, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +known to us," said the eagle. "You have +hunted only for food, as the animals hunt. +Your arrows have not been shot to take life +without a reason. No bird nor beast has been +left by you to suffer and die.</p> + +<p>"Therefore, I, the eagle, king of birds, give +you of my courage. You shall fear no warlike +band, however many. Alone you shall conquer +the enemy."</p> + +<p>"And I," said the bear, "give you of my gift +of healing. You shall be able to cure yourself, +and also your fellow warriors, of any wounds +you may receive in battle."</p> + +<p>"My fleetness is yours," said the deer. +"You shall outstrip all others and run like the +wind."</p> + +<p>The wolf stretched himself and walked +noiselessly into the circle. "When you creep +into the enemy's camp," he said, "no eye shall +be able to see you. Thus may you rout your +enemies, and no one shall know who is striking +the blows."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>"I am small," said the field mouse; "I leave +no tracks on the grass, and send no sound into +the air. I give you my power, that none may +follow your trail nor hear your footfall."</p> + +<p>"No one can give a better gift than I," said +the owl. "You shall see in the dark as I do. +The night shall be to you like the day."</p> + +<p>"You have fed me," said the dog. "You +have taken me into your lodge and let me lie +by the warm fire. I give you in return my +power of smell that you may follow the trail +of your enemy."</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was no cave in sight, no +animals in council. Where he had been praying +under the open sky, the warrior chief stood +alone. Was it all a dream?</p> + +<p>From the grass came a faint strange smell. +He followed it fast as the fleetest deer. In +what seemed but a moment he was in sight +of the sleeping foe.</p> + +<p>He entered their camp as silently as the +field mouse. Like the eagle he had no fear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +He struck out with his weapons. In great +surprise the painted Indians awoke and +jumped to their feet.</p> + +<p>Wounded men fell under blows that could +not be seen nor heard. Their chief lay still +upon the ground.</p> + +<p>"There is magic here," they cried. "We +cannot fight against magic." And they +aroused their band and fled, leaving everything +behind them.</p> + +<p>Then the victor sped with the fleetness of +the deer to his own tribe. The men, waiting +for the battle signal, followed him to the +deserted camp. They returned laden with +weapons, the finest of bows and arrows, spears, +war bonnets, stores of food, and other spoils +of war.</p> + +<p>Joy spread among the people. In the +village of wigwams feasting took the place +of fear.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had been that warrior," said +Swift Elk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>"You may have a chance to be just as brave +to-morrow," answered his mother. "I depend +on you to take your father's place here if he +goes into battle."</p> + +<p>The children could keep awake no longer, +but Good Bird did not close her eyes. The +dawn came on, the sun rose, and there was no +attack.</p> + +<p>For many days and nights the young +braves took their turn in watching. There +were no further signs of an enemy, and no one +ever found out how the strange feather came +to be dropped near the camp.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> +<h2>WINTER EVENINGS</h2> + +<p>The wind roared in the trees, and the snow +was falling. But Fleet Deer's lodge was warm +and comfortable. Good Bird, his wife, knew +how to make a lodge, and how to keep it from +being smoky.</p> + +<p>She had sewed heavy skins together for +the outside cover of the wigwam. Inside, the +lower walls were of tanned doeskin, nearly +white. The cold air passing between the +lining and the cover ventilated the room and +carried the smoke out of the smoke hole.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the circular floor was a +stone-lined fire pit, now filled with glowing +coals that gave light to the room.</p> + +<p>Warm skins with the fur uppermost covered +the three long platforms that were used +for seats in the daytime and for beds at night.</p> + +<p>Good Bird took great pride in her home. +She kept the floor swept with a cedar broom +and everything in its place.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0126-illus" id="i0126-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0126-illus.png" width="500" height="299" alt="Drawing and preparing the food" title="Drawing and preparing the food"/> +</div> + +<p>When not busy in preparing food, she +made clothing and moccasins. She stained +porcupine quills for trimmings, and made +necklaces of shells. The teeth of wild animals +were used for ornaments.</p> + +<p>On this cold winter evening Good Bird +was dressed in a handsome garment +trimmed with fringe and colored quills. +Her moccasins and leggings were also ornamented.</p> + +<p>She had braided her hair neatly, and drawn +a line of fresh red paint along the parting.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +Her forehead and cheeks were also touched +with red.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to a dance, Mother?" asked +White Cloud.</p> + +<p>Good Bird said nothing, but smiled as +she thought of the guest who was expected +and the pleasant surprise in store for her +children.</p> + +<p>The evening meal was over. Nokomis had +opened her stores of maple sugar and corn in +honor of Swift Elk, who had won the game +of tops that day.</p> + +<p>Whipping his winter top over level snow +and high drifts alike, he had outdistanced his +companions by fifty paces.</p> + +<p>White Cloud sat by the fire drying her +moccasins. She had been out sliding with her +playmates until the sun left the sky. You +would have thought their sleds very funny, +for they were made of the curved rib bones of +a large deer.</p> + +<p>Swift Elk was studying the strange signs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +and markings on the lining of the wigwam. +He was never tired of hearing the pictures +explained, for they showed in order the chief +events in his father's life.</p> + +<p>Here was the grizzly bear that Fleet Deer +had killed single-handed. For this deed of +bravery he was entitled to wear an eagle's +feather.</p> + +<p>Here was the deer that was killed in time +of famine, after a long and dangerous hunt.</p> + +<p>Other pictures showed Indians in the war +dance, on the war trail, surprising the foe, returning +with the honors of battle, holding a +council, and smoking the peace pipe.</p> + +<p>Fleet Deer was master of the Indian art of +picture writing, and he had, that very day, +added new paintings to the record. His children +had never heard of any other way to read +or write, and they had never seen a book.</p> + +<p>The flap of skin covering the lodge entrance +was raised and a man entered.</p> + +<p>"The story-teller! The story-teller!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +shouted the children with delight. He was +given the seat of honor and the best food that +Good Bird could provide.</p> + +<p>When the guest was warm and his meal +over, favorite stories were asked for.</p> + +<p>"We ought to hear again of the great gift +of corn to our people," said Good Bird.</p> + +<p>"New stories, I want new stories. Will +you tell us some new stories?" asked White +Cloud.</p> + +<p>"War stories, I want, and stories of boys," +said Swift Elk.</p> + +<p>Then Fleet Deer, the father, spoke: "I +wish my son to know the tale of the White +Canoe and how a great warrior honored his +parents."</p> + +<p>Nokomis had no request. She was a fine +story-teller herself and interested in hearing +everything that might be related.</p> + +<p>Then, to the joy of his hearers, the story-teller +began.</p> + +<p>First he delighted the children by telling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +of the ground hog that saved his own life by +teaching a new dance.</p> + +<p>The next tale was about the first animals +and how they came to live in the forests and +on the plains.</p> + +<p>After the story-teller had explained how +sickness came into the world, Fleet Deer +wanted to be a medicine man and find all the +plants that cure disease.</p> + +<p>And so they all listened to one tale after +another until the midnight stars shone overhead +and the embers grew white where the +burning logs had sparkled.</p> + +<p>Now you may read for yourselves the +stories that were told in an Indian lodge on a +winter evening.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE GROUND-HOG DANCE</h2> + +<p>Seven wolves once caught a ground hog. +"Now we'll kill you and have something good +to eat," they said.</p> + +<p>But the ground hog replied: "When we +find good food we must rejoice over it, as people +do in the green-corn dance. I know you +mean to kill me, and I can't help myself, but +if you want to dance I'll sing for you.</p> + +<p>"I will teach you a new dance. I'll lean +up against seven trees in turn, and you will +dance away, then come back toward me. At +the last turn you may kill me."</p> + +<p>The wolves were very hungry, but they +wanted to learn the new dance. So they told +the ground hog to go ahead. The ground hog +leaned up against the first tree and began the +song.</p> + +<p>All the wolves danced away from the trees. +When the signal was given they danced back +in line.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0132-illus" id="i0132-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0132-illus.png" width="500" height="336" alt="Dancing wolves" title="Dancing wolves"/> +</div> + +<p>"That's fine!" said the ground hog, as he +went to the second tree and began the second +song. The wolves danced away, then turned +at the signal and danced back again.</p> + +<p>"That's very fine," said the ground hog; +and he went to another tree and started the +third song.</p> + +<p>The wolves danced their best, and were +praised by the ground hog. At each song he +took another tree, and each tree was a little +nearer to his hole under a stump.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>At the seventh song he said, "Now this is +the last dance. When I give the signal you +will all turn and come after me. The one who +catches me may have me."</p> + +<p>So the ground hog began the last song, and +kept it up until the wolves were many steps +away. Just as the signal was given he made a +jump for his hole.</p> + +<p>The wolves turned and were after him. +But the ground hog reached his hole and dived +in. He was scarcely inside when the foremost +wolf caught him by the tail and pulled so hard +that it broke off.</p> + +<p>And the ground hog's tail has been short +ever since.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LUCKY HUNTER</h2> + +<p>Soon after the world was made, a hunter +lived with his wife and only son near a high +mountain. No matter when the man went +into the woods he was sure to come back with +plenty of meat. And so he went by the name +of the Lucky Hunter.</p> + +<p>The little boy used to play every day by a +river not far from the house. One morning +the old people thought they heard laughing +and talking in the bushes as if two children +were playing together.</p> + +<p>When the boy came home at night he was +asked who had been with him all day.</p> + +<p>"A wild boy comes out of the water," +answered the son. "He says he is my elder +brother."</p> + +<p>The father and mother wished very much +to see their son's companion, but the wild boy +always ran into the river when he heard them +coming.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>"This must not go on," said the father.</p> + +<p>That night the Lucky Hunter said to his +son: "To-morrow when the wild boy comes to +play, ask him to wrestle with you. When you +have your arms around him, you must hold +him and call us."</p> + +<p>In this way the wild boy was caught and +kept in the house until he was tamed. He was +full of mischief, and he led the smaller boy +into all kinds of trouble.</p> + +<p>One day the wild boy said to his brother: +"I wonder where our father gets all his game. +Let's follow him and find out."</p> + +<p>A few days afterward the Lucky Hunter +took a bow and some feathers in his hand and +went toward a swamp. After waiting a short +time, the boys followed.</p> + +<p>The old man cut reeds, fitted the feathers +to them, and made arrows.</p> + +<p>"What are those things for, I wonder?" +said the wild boy.</p> + +<p>When the Lucky Hunter had finished his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +arrows, he went on over the low hills and up +the mountain.</p> + +<p>Keeping out of sight, the boys watched +him. When he was halfway to the top he +stopped and lifted a large rock in the side of +the mountain.</p> + +<p>At once a deer ran out. The Lucky Hunter +killed it with his first arrow. Then he carefully +replaced the heavy stone and pulled a +strong vine over it to conceal the cracks.</p> + +<p>"Oho," said the boys. "He keeps the deer +shut up inside of the mountain. When he +wants meat he lets one out and kills it with the +arrows he made in the swamp."</p> + +<p>They hurried to reach home before their +father, who had the heavy deer to carry.</p> + +<p>A few days later the boys went to the +swamp, made arrows, and started up the +mountain. When they came to the hole, +they lifted the rock and a deer came running +out.</p> + +<p>Before they could shoot him another came,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +and another. The boys could not stop them, +and they could not shoot them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0137-illus" id="i0137-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0137-illus.png" width="500" height="336" alt="Running animals" title="Running animals"/> +</div> + +<p>Other animals made a rush for the entrance. +There were elk, antelope, raccoons, +wolves, foxes, panthers, and many others. +They scattered in all directions and disappeared +in the wilderness.</p> + +<p>Then a great flock of birds came flying out +of the hole. There were turkeys, geese, ducks, +quail, eagles, robins, hawks, and owls.</p> + +<p>They darkened the air like a cloud and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +made such a noise with their wings that the +Lucky Hunter heard them.</p> + +<p>"My bad boys have got into trouble," he +cried. "I must go and see what they are +doing."</p> + +<p>So he went up the mountain and found the +two boys standing by the opening. Not an +animal nor a bird was to be seen.</p> + +<p>Their father was very angry. Without a +word he went into the cave and kicked off the +covers of four jars. Out swarmed wasps, hornets, +gnats, flies, mosquitoes, and all manner +of stinging and biting insects and bugs.</p> + +<p>The boys screamed with pain. They rolled +over and over on the ground, trying to brush +off their tormentors.</p> + +<p>Their father looked on until he thought +they had been punished enough. Then he +spoke.</p> + +<p>"See what you have done, you rascals. +Always before you have had enough to eat +without working for it. Whenever you were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +hungry, all I had to do was to come up here +and take home anything your mother wanted +to cook.</p> + +<p>"After this when you want a deer to eat, +you will have to hunt all over the woods for it, +and then may not find one.</p> + +<p>"Now you may go and take care of yourselves."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<a name="i0139-illus" id="i0139-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0139-illus.png" width="100" height="68" alt="A swarm of insects" title="A swarm of insects"/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW SICKNESS CAME</h2> + +<p>In the old days when the beasts, birds, +fishes, insects, and plants could talk, they +lived in peace and friendship with the children +of men.</p> + +<p>But, as time went on, the people increased +in number, and they crowded the animals out +of their homes.</p> + +<p>This was bad enough, but, to make it +worse, man invented bows and arrows, spears, +knives, and hooks, and began to kill the +animals.</p> + +<p>They were killed for clothing, and they +were killed for food, and still they were patient. +But when man began to kill them for +sport, they determined to unite for common +safety.</p> + +<p>The bears first met in council with their +chief. After each in turn had complained of +the cruel treatment of man, they all declared +war against him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>Some of the bears proposed to make weapons +and use them. But the chief said: "It is +better to trust to the teeth and claws which +Nature has given us."</p> + +<p>As no one could think of other plans, their +chief dismissed the council. The bears returned +to the woods, and have done little harm +to man ever since.</p> + +<p>The deer next held a council. They decided +that any one who killed a deer without +asking his pardon should be lame with many +pains.</p> + +<p>The reptiles and the fish talked the matter +over. They agreed to punish man by making +him dream of snakes and of eating raw fish.</p> + +<p>In the last council the birds, rabbits, squirrels, +ducks, and the smaller animals came +together. All complained of stolen nests, +stones, and arrows.</p> + +<p>The ground squirrel alone said a good word +for man. This made the others so angry that +they fell upon the little animal and tore him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +with their claws. You can see the stripes on +his back even to this day.</p> + +<p>Then all the squirrels that had lost legs or +tail by arrows, all rabbits running on three +legs, all birds that had seen their little ones +die, all wild ducks lamed, and all animals that +had ever been wounded for sport rose up and +called for revenge.</p> + +<p>"Let the pains and the trouble that man +has sent to us and our children be sent to him +and his children," they demanded.</p> + +<p>"But how can we do this?" asked the +others. "We cannot turn man's weapons +against him."</p> + +<p>"Let us send new diseases," proposed a +limping fox.</p> + +<p>All rose up with pleasure at this proposal. +And they commenced to invent diseases so +fast that they had soon named every kind of +sickness that you ever heard of. Had they +thought of many more, no human beings +would now be alive.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>The grubworm, who had been stepped on +by man, was so delighted that he fell over +backwards and has had to wriggle on his back +ever since.</p> + +<p>But the plants continued friendly to man. +When they heard what the animals had done, +they promised to help him and his children +forever.</p> + +<p>Every tree and plant, even the grass and +the moss, agreed to furnish a cure for one of +the diseases sent by the animals.</p> + +<p>Each said in turn: "I shall help man when +he calls on me in his need."</p> + +<p>Thus came medicine. And if we only knew +where to look, we might find among the plants +a cure for every kind of sickness.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW SPRING CONQUERED WINTER</h2> + +<p>Far to the North lives the terrible giant, +Winter. When he leaves his home, all people +dread his coming. He whistles, and the +storms roar about him. Where he steps, +the ground turns to rock and plants bow their +heads to the earth.</p> + +<p>All the animals flee before him and hide in +caves and hollow trees. The children leave +their happy play and sit shivering by the wigwam +fire.</p> + +<p>One day old Winter looked about him. He +saw no life in field or forest. The wind raged, +and the drifts almost hid the lodges of the +Indians.</p> + +<p>"The world is conquered; I am the only +king," said giant Winter. He sat alone in his +lodge. The fire was white with ashes, and the +tempest howled.</p> + +<p>A step was heard, and a young warrior +entered the lodge.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>He was tall and straight and youthful.</p> + +<p>Old Winter welcomed the stranger. "Sit +here on the mat beside me," he said. "Let us +pass the night together. You shall tell me of +your strange adventures, and of the lands in +which you have traveled."</p> + +<p>The old man drew his long peace pipe from +its pouch. It was made of red sandstone, and +its stem was a smooth reed. He lighted the +pipe from the dying embers and passed it to +his guest.</p> + +<p>Long they talked and smoked together, +each boasting of his power.</p> + +<p>"When I blow my breath about me," said +old Winter, "rivers stop their flowing, and +water turns to stone."</p> + +<p>The young man smiled. "When I blow +my breath about me," he replied, "I free your +prisoned waters, and they rush onward to +the seas."</p> + +<p>"My power is greater than yours," boasted +Winter. "I have only to shake my long hair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +and the leaves die on the branches. Plants +bow their heads before me and go back into +the earth."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0146-illus" id="i0146-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0146-illus.png" width="500" height="306" alt="Old Winter and Spring" title="Old Winter and Spring"/> +</div> + +<p>And now the stranger laughed as he +boasted of greater power. "When I shake +my curling locks, I call the leaves back on +the branches. The plants come out of the +brown earth and bring forth their flowers +and fruit."</p> + +<p>Old Winter frowned. "I speak, and the +birds fly away. I command, and the wild +beasts obey me. They hide in caves. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +burrow in the earth. They do not venture to +look upon my face!"</p> + +<p>"I call back the birds you have sent away," +replied the stranger. "They hear my voice +and return to their nesting places. I speak, +and the beasts leave their shelters and fill the +forests and the plains with life."</p> + +<p>"I am the king," shouted Winter, "for even +man obeys me. When I send the tempest, the +mightiest warriors turn and flee. They close +the doors of their lodges, and I imprison them +with drifts of snow."</p> + +<p>"I also have power over man," replied the +stranger. "My name is Spring. I melt your +snow and open the wigwam doors. All men +rejoice, and they come forth to hunt and feast +and dance."</p> + +<p>The night waned, and the sun came from +his lodge like a painted warrior. The air grew +warm and pleasant, and the bluebird and the +robin sang on the lodge poles.</p> + +<p>But the giant! What was taking place?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +He was growing smaller. Now he was no +larger than a common man. His war bonnet +was no longer white, but old and gray, and its +feathers were falling one by one.</p> + +<p>Still the giant dwindled. Smaller and +smaller he grew. Tears flowed from his eyes. +He vanished from sight, and fled away with a +noise like the rush of waters. Far to the north +he flew where the snow never melts.</p> + +<p>Thus did Spring, the beautiful youth, conquer +the great and mighty Winter.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus it was that in the Northland<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came the Spring with all its splendor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All its birds and all its blossoms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All its flowers and leaves and grasses."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE GIFT OF CORN</h2> + +<p>A tribe of Indians once lived on the beautiful +islands of a large lake. They were driven +from their homes by hostile tribes. Men, +women, and children left everything they +owned and paddled their canoes westward to +the mainland.</p> + +<p>But Manabush, the bravest of the warriors, +remained behind. It was his purpose to keep +close watch of the enemy, and to send warning +in time to prevent surprise.</p> + +<p>Every day he paddled his birch canoe close +to the shore, hiding in nooks and bays. He +had with him two boys, and with their aid the +canoe was hauled every night into the thick +woods.</p> + +<p>As they walked, they carefully covered +their footprints with sand.</p> + +<p>Each day Manabush thought of his suffering +people, whose supplies of food had been +stolen by the enemy. The brave warrior<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +prayed to the spirits of earth and air, asking +that food be given to his tribe.</p> + +<p>One morning Manabush rose early, leaving +the two boys asleep. He went out from +the tent and walked in the forest, where he +could not be seen.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he came out upon an open plain. +Approaching him was a handsome youth +dressed in garments of green and yellow. In +his hair he wore a red plume.</p> + +<p>Truly this stranger must come from skyland, +he thought. What answer does he +bring?</p> + +<p>"I am Mondamin," said the strange man. +"Your prayers are heard, for you pray, not +for yourself, but for your people. I have come +to show you how by labor and struggle you +can gain what you have prayed for. You must +wrestle with me."</p> + +<p>Long they strove together. The man of +the red feather was strong and active, but at +last he was thrown to the earth.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0151-illus" id="i0151-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0151-illus.png" width="500" height="337" alt="Mondamin, the spirit of the corn" title="Mondamin, the spirit of the corn"/> +</div> + +<p>"I have thrown you! I have thrown you!" +shouted Manabush.</p> + +<p>"You have gained a great gift for your +people," said Mondamin, "for I am the spirit +of the corn."</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke, a wonderful change took +place. Gone was the man who had wrestled +with such strength. His garments had turned +into green and yellow corn husks, and his +body to a ripe red ear of corn. But the red +plume was still waving.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>Again the voice of Mondamin was heard +from the ground. "Take from me my covers. +Scatter my kernels over the plain. Break my +spine and throw it all about you.</p> + +<p>"Make the earth soft and light above me. +Let no bird disturb me, and let no weed share +my resting place. Watch me till I stand once +more tall and beautiful. Then you shall have +food for your people."</p> + +<p>Manabush obeyed all that the voice had +commanded. On the way back to his canoe he +killed a deer, but he said no word to his +companions of his strange adventure with the +man of the red feather.</p> + +<p>When the new moon hung like a bow in the +west, he visited the field alone. What were +the wide grass-like blades making green the +plain? What were the vines that sent their +runners all about?</p> + +<p>Carefully he tilled the field. The stems +grew strong, and the broad leaves gleamed in +the sunshine. Still he kept the secret, spending<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +many hours in watching for his enemies.</p> + +<p>When summer drew near its close, Manabush +paddled his canoe to the shore nearest +the wrestling ground. He found the corn clad +in green and yellow, with red plumes waving. +And great yellow pumpkins were ripening on +the green vines.</p> + +<p>As he picked the ripe red ears he heard a +voice from the field, saying: "Victory has +crowned your struggles, O Manabush. The +gift of corn is to your people, and will always +be their food."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MAGIC CANOE</h2> + +<p>One night, as Manabush was lying on +the ground in the thick woods, he heard +strange voices. "This is no common enemy," +he said to himself. But he lay motionless +and listened.</p> + +<p>The evil spirits were plotting to take his +life. By his magic power he was able to defend +himself from their attacks, and they +slipped away unseen.</p> + +<p>In the morning he went to the open shore. +There he saw a canoe drawn up on the beach. +Coming near, he found a man in the bow and +another in the stern. They had been changed +into stone images as a punishment for their +wicked deeds.</p> + +<p>The canoe was the largest and finest that +Manabush had ever seen. It was full of bags +of the most beautiful clothing and stores of +the rarest food.</p> + +<p>Manabush carried all the treasures into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +the wood and concealed them in a cave. Then +he took the magic canoe and hid it among the +rocks.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="i0155-illus" id="i0155-illus"></a> +<img src="images/0155-illus.png" width="500" height="325" alt="A magic canoe" title="A magic canoe"/> +</div> + +<p>A voice was heard from one of the stone +images: "In this way will the canoes of your +people be loaded when they pass again along +this coast."</p> + +<p>Manabush returned to his two young +companions, bidding them arise and cook. +He showed them the abundance of meat +and fish, the bags of maple sugar and dried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +berries, and other foods liked by the Indians.</p> + +<p>Then he thought of his aged father and +mother, who had fled far from their homes. +Danger seemed past, and he wished them to +return and share his gifts.</p> + +<p>Westward he sailed in the magic canoe. +He needed no paddles, for his wishes guided +him, and the boat flew through the water with +amazing speed.</p> + +<p>Before daylight he was at the lodge of his +parents. He found them asleep, and he carried +them to his canoe so gently that they did +not awaken.</p> + +<p>When they awoke in the morning, they +could hardly believe their eyes. They had left +behind hunger and a barren lodge. They +found themselves in their own country, with +abundance all about them.</p> + +<p>Food was placed before them. Then the +bags were opened. There were beaded dresses +for the mother and war bonnets for the father. +There were moccasins and warm blankets.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +There were skins as soft as the most skilled +work could produce.</p> + +<p>Manabush built his parents a lodge near +the cornfield and filled it with every comfort. +Then he brought ears of corn and pumpkins +and laid before them. He told them of his +wrestling with Mondamin, and he showed +them the field where the corn stood in its +garments of green and yellow, waving its red +plumes.</p> + +<p>The secret of the magic canoe, the stone +images, and the wonderful gifts was shared +by Manabush with his father and mother.</p> + +<p>When spring returned a large cornfield +grew and prospered. The exiled tribe came +back, and from that time they were noted for +their fine crops of maize.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUNDS</h2> + +<p>All who leave the earth must follow the +death trail. Each walks alone—warrior, +squaw, or child. All but papoose. The good +spirits carry papoose.</p> + +<p>The trail goes on and on to the place where +the sun slips over the edge of the earth plane. +There it comes to a deep, rapid stream, and the +only bridge is a slippery pine log.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the river are six +strange beings with rocks in their hands. +These rocks are magic stones which can injure +only those who have done evil, but can never +touch nor harm the good.</p> + +<p>When the one who follows the death trail +reaches the middle of the log, he sees the stones +come flying toward him.</p> + +<p>If his life has been evil, he tries to dodge; +therefore, he slips off the log and falls into the +black, swirling water.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he crawls out of the stream and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +climbs to the top of the rocks. But he can +never reach the country of the good spirits.</p> + +<p>There is only one trail to the Happy Hunting +Grounds, and that is over the narrow, slippery +log. But if the one who is crossing has +brought good to his kinsmen and his tribe, +he does not fear.</p> + +<p>He knows that no harm can come from the +stones that fly around him, and so he keeps +his footing and walks safely over.</p> + +<p>The trail winds on over high rocks to the +beautiful land. No storms and no winter enter +the Happy Hunting Grounds. The sky is +always blue, and the grass never grows dry +with heat nor brown with frost.</p> + +<p>The trees are full of birds, the bushes of +fruit, and the forests are alive with game. +Feasting and dancing fill the day, and the war +cry is heard no more.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> +<h2>ABOUT THE BOOK</h2> + +<blockquote><p>The facts and stories which have made this little book possible +are found in the works of Schoolcraft and in the Government +reports of Ethnology. Especial credit is due to Albert E. Jenks, +author of "The Wild-Rice Indians of the Upper Lakes," and to +James Mooney, who reported for the Government the tribal myths +told by famous Cherokee story-tellers.</p> + +<p>There is evidence that the Indians of early times had regular +trade routes across the continent, north and south, and east and +west. It was the custom of their story-tellers to exchange stories, +and it is therefore possible that some of the myths told in the +south found their way in northern wigwams. The story of the +birds welcoming a papoose, for example, is obtained in part from +the Cherokee collection, and in part from Schoolcraft, who lived +among the Ojibways, or Chippewas as they are often called. That +certain tales are similar to fables of Æsop is explained by the +theory that a primitive people, observing nature, would originate +similar myths.</p> + +<p>The forests where rice grew wild in the shallow water of lakes +and streams, were coveted lands and the cause of many Indian +wars. Here game was abundant, and maple sugar, berries, and +nuts could be obtained in season.</p> + +<p>After years of conflict for the rice lands, peace was made between +the Ojibways of the Great Lakes and the Sioux, or Dakotahs, +farther west. Trade with the whites had begun, but +there were many villages which the white men had never entered, +and where the primitive customs were still unchanged.</p> + +<p>As Hiawatha was not the only Indian who married a Dakotah, +it follows that there were homes where the family life was influenced +by the customs of both tribes.</p> + +<p>The author has endeavored to describe child life in the Wild-Rice +region west of the Great Lakes at this period, and to retell +some of the most interesting stories enjoyed by Indian children.</p> + +<p>The aim of the book is to gratify the American child's natural +interest in primitive life by stories of our own land and to increase +his respect for all that is original and worthy in the lives +of the First Americans.</p></blockquote> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Two Indian Children of Long Ago, by Frances Taylor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO INDIAN CHILDREN OF LONG AGO *** + +***** This file should be named 31502-h.htm or 31502-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/5/0/31502/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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b/31502.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2955116 --- /dev/null +++ b/31502.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3344 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Two Indian Children of Long Ago, by Frances Taylor + +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: Two Indian Children of Long Ago + +Author: Frances Taylor + +Release Date: March 4, 2010 [EBook #31502] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO INDIAN CHILDREN OF LONG AGO *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + Two Indian Children + of + Long Ago + + BY + FRANCES LILIAN TAYLOR + Author of Adventures in Storyland Readers + + ILLUSTRATED BY + L. KATE DEAL + + BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY + CHICAGO + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY + BECKLEY-CARDY COMPANY + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +[Illustration] + + + + +CONTENTS + +[Illustration] + + + PAGE + + THE FIRST AMERICANS 7 + + THE WILD-RICE INDIANS 13 + + STORIES AND STORY-TELLERS 17 + + WELCOME TO A PAPOOSE 21 + + THE INDIAN BABY AND HER CRADLE 25 + + WHITE CLOUD'S FIRST RIDE 28 + + NOKOMIS TELLS A STORY 34 + + THE FIREFLY DANCE 37 + + SWIFT ELK, THE INDIAN BOY 40 + + THE NAMING OF SWIFT ELK 45 + + FIRE AND THE FIRE MAKERS 49 + + THE THUNDERERS 56 + + THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE FOREST 58 + + BLACK WOLF TELLS A STORY 62 + + THE RACE BETWEEN THE CRANE AND THE HUMMING + BIRD 67 + + HUNTING WILD DUCKS 70 + + A BRAVE DUCK 77 + + SUMMER SPORTS 81 + + THE BALL GAME 85 + + THE ANIMALS AND THE BIRDS PLAY BALL 89 + + GATHERING WILD RICE 94 + + THE ANT AND THE KATYDID 100 + + HOW WILD RICE WAS DISCOVERED 102 + + MOVING THE DOLLS' CAMP 106 + + FINDING A WAR FEATHER 114 + + THE LYNX AND THE HARE 117 + + HOW THE ANIMALS SAVED THE TRIBE 119 + + WINTER EVENINGS 125 + + THE GROUND-HOG DANCE 131 + + THE LUCKY HUNTER 134 + + HOW SICKNESS CAME 140 + + HOW SPRING CONQUERED WINTER 144 + + THE GIFT OF CORN 149 + + THE MAGIC CANOE 154 + + THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUNDS 158 + + ABOUT THE BOOK 160 + + + + + TWO + INDIAN CHILDREN + of LONG AGO + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE FIRST AMERICANS + + +We are proud of being Americans. But we must not forget that the +Indians once owned all America, north and south and east and west. + +The Indians were the first Americans of whom we read. No people ever +had a greater love for their land, and no race has ever taken more +pleasure in out-of-door life. + +After Columbus found the New World, white men came from Europe to make +their homes here. As time went on they drove the Indians farther and +farther west and took away their hunting grounds. + +Let us try to imagine our country as it was when the Indians owned it. +Can we picture our land without a house or a store or a railroad? Can +we think of great rivers with no cities on their banks and with no +bridges on which to cross from one side to the other? + +Every boy we know likes to go camping. But who would be willing to set +up a camp far away in the deep woods without taking with him tent or +food or blankets? + +Before trade with the white men began, the Indians found everything +they needed in the wild land about them. They could make their own +weapons and tools, their canoes and paddles, their houses and +clothing, and even build a fire without matches. + +Your fathers leave home to earn money for your food and clothing. Your +mothers see that your meals are cooked and that your clothes are +bought or made. + +The Indians took care of their children in much the same way. During +the hunting season the fathers and big brothers went away every +morning to hunt. The men provided all the meat for their families, and +all the skins for clothing and covers. + +When a deer or a bear was shot, the hunter brought it to the camp and +threw it down. His work for the day was done--the women could do the +rest. + +And it was wonderful to see what the wives and mothers could do with a +big animal. Was there a wigwam in the tribe without food? The meat was +shared to the last mouthful. Was there an abundance? The meat was +dried for long keeping. + +Did the son need more covers for his bed? A bear's skin was finished +like a fur rug for his comfort. Did the black-eyed daughter beg for a +new dress? Her mother could make from the deerskin a soft garment +beautifully trimmed with colored beads, stained quills, and fringes. + +But what did the Indians do when they could find no more game to shoot +with their arrows? Why, they sent out scouts to select a better place +to live, and the chief gave orders for every one to move. + +Down came the lodge poles. The trained dogs were called and loaded, +and away they all went. Just think of a whole village moving and +leaving nothing behind but the land! + +[Illustration] + +The Indians spent much time in feasting, dancing, and games. During +the summer the men had little else to do, for they seldom hunted while +the wild animals were caring for their young. + +Each tribe was ruled by a chief and a council of warriors. All their +lands were held in common, and no one suffered want except when food +was scarce for all. + +Every boy was watched with interest by the whole village. His first +walking was noticed, and his first success in hunting was often +celebrated by a feast. + +[Illustration] + +When the corn was ripe, the Indians held one of the most important +dances of the year to show their thanks to the Great Spirit for the +gift of corn. + +In times of sickness, the medicine man came with rattle and drum to +drive away the evil spirits that were believed to have caused the +trouble. If the sick person grew worse, Indians, with their faces +painted black, crowded the wigwam and more medicine men were called. + +They drummed harder and harder. They yelled and beat their rattles, +thinking that they were helping the sick one to recover. + +When anyone in the tribe died, the things he had cared for most were +placed in his grave. There were toys for a little child, and weapons +and blankets for a warrior. The favorite horse of a chief was often +killed to be his companion on the journey to the land of spirits. Even +food was carried to the burial place because the trail was long that +led to the Happy Hunting Grounds. + +After many years, the early customs became greatly changed. To-day +large numbers of Indians are living in the white man's way. Some are +well educated and own houses, farms, and even automobiles. Their +children are trained in government schools. There are writers among +them whose books we like to read, and there are artists who paint +interesting pictures of Indian life. + +During the great World War the Indians begged to join the army, and +hundreds enlisted. Young men from many tribes were in France, and +there were no braver soldiers. + + + + +THE WILD-RICE INDIANS + + +Every boy and girl who studies geography can find the Great Lakes. In +the states south and west there are hundreds of small lakes and rivers +where wild rice grows in the shallow water. + +During the early days of our country, different tribes of Indians +gathered the wild rice for food, and many battles were fought for the +rice fields. + +From the birch trees of the forest the men obtained bark for their +canoes. In these light boats the women pushed their way through the +thickets of ripe grain. They beat the stalks with short sticks, +letting the rice fall into the canoes. + +The wild rice was eaten raw from the growing plants. It was also +parched while green for daily use, and bushels of the ripe grain were +stored away for the long, cold winter. + +[Illustration] + +At harvest time there was always good hunting, for great flocks of +ducks, geese, and other birds flew to the rice stalks to eat the seeds. + +In the spring the women, boys, and old men spent weeks at the sugar +camp. They caught the maple sap in small bark dishes and boiled it +into sugar. The boys kept the fires going under the kettles and, for +the first few days, ate nearly all the sugar they made. + +Many kinds of berries grew in this northern country. These the Indian +women picked and dried. Indeed, the underground storehouse of a +wigwam housekeeper was full of good things to eat. + +Hiawatha is said to have lived on the shore of one of the Great Lakes. +Before the white men sold fire water to the Indians, there were many +happy homes in the forest. The ways of living were the same as we read +about in Longfellow's poem, and the children were trained to be brave +and honorable and to respect their elders. + +The boys were trained in woodcraft. They learned the names and habits of +wild animals. They could find their way alone through dense forests; and +they could see farther and hear better than any boys we know. + +The girls were taught by their mothers to be modest and industrious. +They made beautiful beadwork to trim dresses and moccasins. They could +set up a wigwam, prepare food, and keep a clean and orderly home. + +This little book tells how children lived and played long ago in the +wild-rice country. Their tribe was then at peace with the fierce +Indians farther west. A few men of the village had traveled north with +furs, but the children had never seen a white man. + +The old-time life of the Indians is ended. But there are camps in the +unsettled lands of the wild-rice region where many strange customs can +still be seen; where the Indian drum is heard, and the women gather +wild rice as in the olden time. + + + + +STORIES AND STORY-TELLERS + + +The Indians of long ago had no books and no schools; but each tribe +had its story-tellers, who went from one wigwam to another. Everywhere +they were welcomed by old and young and begged to return. + +The stories were told and retold by their hearers until learned. +Indian mothers quieted their fretful little ones by stories and songs +just as other mothers have always done. + +The Indian stories are strange, and some are very beautiful. There are +wonderful tales of the sun, moon, and stars; of animals and birds and +trees; of the thunder and the lightning and the winds. + +Through stories the children learned the strange beliefs of their +parents. They were taught to call the sun their father and the moon +their mother, and all the animals and birds their brothers. + +The Indians believed that good and bad spirits were all around them on +the earth and above them in the sky. + +They thought that animals and birds could talk, and that they listened +to everything which was said in the wigwams. + +Tales of fearless hunters and brave warriors made the boys wish to +become as brave as their fathers. Tales of the men that had brought +great good to their people led the children to hope that they, too, +might sometime bring blessings to their tribe. + +The children learned that their fathers worshiped the Great Spirit, and +that no warrior ever went on the warpath without offering many prayers. + +They were taught that many of their dances were thank offerings to the +Great Spirit, and that the war dance was for success in battle. + +In winter evenings the Indians gathered around the wigwam fire. This +was their only light. The fathers and grandfathers told wonderful +stories of war and hunting, and related the old tales they had heard +when they were children. + +[Illustration] + +Night after night the boys were drilled in repeating the stories they +had heard. The whole family listened attentively, helping all, and +praising the one who did the best. + +Special training was given to the boys of the tribe who showed the most +talent. They were carefully prepared to take the places of the older +story-tellers, for the tribal tales must never be lost nor forgotten. + +The Indian belief that animals can talk is shown in many of their best +stories. Here is one about the birds. + +[Illustration] + + + + +WELCOME TO A PAPOOSE + +[Illustration] + + +Little Wren flies here and there about the village of wigwams. She is +the news gatherer for the bird council. + +She peers into the tent openings and listens to the talk of the +mothers. She flits about the trees where children play. + +When a little son is born, she carries the news to the birds, and they +are sad. "Alas, alas!" they cry. "We hear the whistle of his arrow. +The boy will grow, and he will shoot us with his bow and arrows." + +But when the wren chatters about the coming of a baby girl, the birds +chirp merrily. They sing of the grains she will scatter when she +grinds the corn into meal. + +They sing of the wild rice she will let drop when she comes with her +loaded canoe from the rice harvest. "Sing merrily, sing merrily," they +say. "Another woman child has come to feed us!" + +The cricket hops in the wigwam. And the cricket is glad when the baby +is a girl. "I shall hide among the floor mats and sing where she +plays," he chirps. + +But the cricket is sad when the baby is a boy. "He will shoot me, he +will shoot me!" chirps the cricket. For, as soon as the boy is old +enough, he will be given a tiny bow; and he will fit the sharp arrow +and shoot the cricket and the grasshopper. + +The woodpecker welcomes the girl baby. He sings of the wood worms he +will find when the girl goes with her mother for wood. For the women +of the wigwam break the dry branches for the fire, and the wood worms +fall from their hiding places. + +But the raven rejoices at the sight of the boy baby in his cradle. "My +food, my food!" he croaks. A hunter has come to the camp. He will +shoot the rabbit and the squirrel and the deer; and food for the +hungry ravens will be left where his arrows fall. + +The Indian father rejoices when he looks at his son. "May he grow to +be a brave hunter and a fearless warrior." Such is the Indian's wish. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE INDIAN BABY AND HER CRADLE + + +Why is the happy song of the robin heard beside the lodge? Why chirps +the cricket so merrily? + +Can you not guess? There is a new daughter in the wigwam. Another wood +gatherer and fire maker has come to the tribe. + +"Bring the new cradle, Nokomis. Let me have the beautiful cradle I +have made for my little daughter." And Good Bird, the mother, points +with pride to a strange-looking object that is not at all like the +cradle your baby sleeps in. + +A straight board leans against the inner lining of the lodge. To one +side of it is fastened a white doeskin bag which is trimmed with +beautiful fringes and beadwork. Can this be a baby's cradle? + +Nokomis, the grandmother, opens the bag, which is laced down the +middle with colored strings. She makes a bed of soft moss upon the +hard board and lays the papoose very straight in its little frame. + +Laced and bound, this strange cradle is hung to the top of the lodge. +A bow of curved wood protects the baby's head from injury, should the +cradle fall. + +As the little papoose swings gently, the Indian mother sings a +lullaby, and this is the one she often sings: + + "Wa wa--wa wa--wa wa yea, + Swinging, swinging, lullaby. + Sleep thou, sleep thou, sleep thou. + Little daughter, lullaby. + Wa wa--wa wa--wa wa." + +Slower and slower swings the cradle and the black eyes close in sleep. + +"What shall we name the little one?" asks the mother. + +Nokomis stands in the door of the wigwam. Through the trees she sees the +blue water of the lake. White clouds are moving rapidly across the sky. + +"White Cloud shall be her name," answers Nokomis. + +Good Bird, the mother, smiles and nods. As she watches the cradle, she +talks to the sleeping child. + +"My little woman, you shall be a fire maker and a lodge keeper like +your mother. You shall help me tan the skins for clothing. I will +teach you to make beautiful dresses and trim them with beadwork and +quills. Your father and your brother will be proud to wear the +moccasins you make. + +"You shall go with me to the lake when the rice is ready to harvest. +Together we will hunt the wild berries and the nuts. You shall be your +mother's helper, my little daughter, White Cloud." + + + + +WHITE CLOUD'S FIRST RIDE + + +White Cloud, the baby daughter of Good Bird, is having her first ride +out of doors. Do you think she is in a baby buggy like your little +sister's? Or do you suppose her mother draws her in a tiny cart? + +You can never guess unless you know how Indian mothers contrive to take +their babies with them when they are carrying heavy loads. White Cloud +is laced in her strange cradle and bound securely to her mother's back. + +On the bent strip of board that arches over the head of the cradle are +fastened playthings made of carved wood and bone. The bright toys +jingle and rattle, and the baby laughs. + +To-day the little arms and hands are firmly laced inside the beaded +bag. So the child can not reach out and play with the noisy images as +she loves to do. + +Laced, bound, and protected, the baby is safe even when her mother +pushes through the thickest forest. + +[Illustration] + +The boys, who run everywhere, have brought good news to the camp. "The +June berries are ripe in the forest," they say. So the mothers are +starting with children and bags for the berry picking. + +It is not yet sunrise; but it is the custom of the Indians to rise +early. The men, with bows and arrows, knives and spears, have already +gone away to their daily business--the hunt. + +The older lads are with their fathers, and the little boys have begun a +long summer's day of shouting, swimming, mud throwing, and mischief. +Among them is White Cloud's brother, a sturdy boy of four years. + +Here and there are old men sitting in front of their lodges and +smoking their long pipes. Inside, the grandmothers are busy preparing +food and dressing skins for clothing. + +Most of the women, like Good Bird, carry their babies and berry sacks +upon their backs; but some of them have large dogs trained as burden +carriers. + +Here comes Two Joys, the mother of twins. She is followed by a pair of +dogs, each dragging a strapping brown baby boy. + +One by one, the women and girls wade the streams and climb the hills, +following the trail that leads to the forest. There they separate, +each to make her own choice of bushes. + +White Cloud's mother chooses a thicket where the berries are large and +abundant. She fastens her baby's cradle to the top of a low tree. The +wind swings the cradle, and, like the Mother Goose baby, the Indian +papoose rocks on the tree top. Let us hope that the bough will not +break. + +The birds chirp and sing in the branches. A squirrel comes near to see +what strange object is hanging in his tree. The baby wakes and cries +with fright, and the squirrel scampers away. + +Good Bird is filling her bags of woven grass with purple berries. She +does not pick them as we do, but breaks off long branches loaded with +fruit. Then, with a heavy stick, she beats the branch and the berries +fall on a large skin that is spread on the ground. + +For dinner Good Bird has only dried meat and the sweet, juicy berries. +But she does not think of wishing for more. + +At last the ripe fruit is gathered. The baby is fretting, and the +mother takes the cradle from the tree top. She unlaces the bag and +lays the little one on the warm grass. + +Now the fruit must be packed and tied and the large skin be rolled +up. While the mother works the child grows restless and cries. You can +never guess why. She is asking in baby language to be put back on her +stiff board! + +Very soon Good Bird is ready and, with the cradle and bags strapped to +her back, she starts for home. Other berry pickers loaded with fruit +join her, and together they walk the trail that leads back to the camp. + +Nokomis is watching for the baby. She lifts the cradle and hangs it to +the lodge pole. The little one is restless. She turns her head from +side to side, her black eyes shining. + +Then the grandmother sings the owl song in which Indian babies delight: + + "Ah wa nain, ah wa nain, + Who is this, who is this, + Giving light, light bringing + To the roof of my lodge?" + +The singer changes her voice to imitate a little screech owl and +answers: + + "It is I--the little owl-- + Coming + Down! down! down!" + +As she sings, she springs toward the baby and down goes the little +head. How the papoose laughs and crows! Again Nokomis sings: + + "Who is this, eyelight bringing, + To the roof of my lodge? + It is I, hither swinging-- + Dodge, baby, dodge." + +Over and over the lullaby is sung, now softer and now slower. The +eyelids droop, and the little one is quiet. + + + + +NOKOMIS TELLS A STORY + + +Good Bird had prepared the evening meal, but no one came to eat it. +Her husband, Fleet Deer, was late in returning from the hunt, and her +little son was still shouting and running with his boy playmates. + +The tired baby slept, and the two women sat outside the wigwam in the +warm June evening. + +"Now that I have a little daughter, I must learn all your stories, +Nokomis," said Good Bird. "Suppose you tell one while we wait." + +"I heard a new one last moon," answered Nokomis. "Our village +story-teller has traveled far from our camp. He visited another tribe +and heard all their stories. I will tell you the tale he told about +the first strawberries: + +"In the very earliest times a young girl became so angry one day that +she ran away from home. Her family followed her, calling and +grieving; but she would not answer their calls, nor even turn her head. + +[Illustration] + +"The great sun looked down with pity from the sky and tried to settle +the quarrel. First he caused a patch of ripe blueberries to grow in +her path. + +"The girl pushed her way through the low bushes without stooping to +pick a berry. + +"Further on the sun made juicy blackberries grow by the trail, but the +runaway paid no attention to them. + +"Then low trees laden with the purple June berry tempted her, but +still she hurried on. + +"Every kind of berry that the sun had ever helped to grow, he placed +in her path to cause delay, but without success. + +"The girl still pressed on until she saw clusters of large ripe +strawberries growing in the grass at her feet. + +"She stooped to pick and to eat. Then she turned and saw that she was +followed. + +"Forgetting her anger, she gathered the clusters of ripe, red berries +and started back along the path to share them with her family. + +"Then she went home as if nothing had ever happened!" + + + + +THE FIREFLY DANCE + + +It is a summer evening. There is no moon, and the stars twinkle +brightly in the sky. A half circle of Indian lodges fronts a small +lake. Wide meadows slope to its shores. + +All the air is alive with lights, twinkling, whirling, sparkling. +Thousands of fireflies are swarming above the grass. + +The meadow is full of Indian boys and girls, little and big, dancing +the firefly dance. Advancing and retreating, turning and twisting, +bowing and whirling, they imitate the moving lights about them and +above them. + +In front of the lodges sit the warriors and the squaws looking on. + +Good Bird is watching every move of her son. He is one of the most +active dancers on the field. + +"Look, Nokomis!" she says, "No boy is straighter than your grandson, +and there is no better dancer." + +[Illustration] + +Fleet Deer says nothing, but he is thinking of the time when his son +will take part in the war dance of his tribe. + +Little White Cloud stands by her mother. She has known three winters +and is now a chubby, pretty little Indian girl. + +Suddenly she begins to imitate her brother. She throws out her tiny +brown arms, turns round and round, jumps and bows, while Nokomis and +Good Bird shout with laughter. + +Listen! the children are singing. What do they say? It is the song of +the fireflies that we hear. + +Nokomis has chanted the same words and melody for many a lullaby, and +she keeps time, singing the same song: + + "Wau wau tay see, wau wau tay see, + Flitting white fire insect, + Waving white fire bug, + Give me light before I go to bed, + Give me light before I go to sleep! + Come, little dancing white fire bug, + Come, little flitting white fire beast, + Light me with your bright white flame, + Light me with your little candle." + + + + +SWIFT ELK, THE INDIAN BOY + + +Four years have passed since the summer evening when Good Bird watched +her children in the firefly dance. Her son, Swift Elk, is now a tall, +straight lad of eleven winters. His sister, four years younger, is a +sturdy little girl, already able to help her mother in many ways. + +The boy is the pride of the lodge. From his earliest babyhood he has +been trained to be strong and fearless. + +"Lay him very straight," his father used to say when the baby boy was +placed on his cradle board. "Do not make his bed too soft. My son must +grow tall and strong, for he will sometime be a great warrior." + +Since he could first walk he has gone with his father each day to the +lake to take an early morning bath. Like all Indians, he learned to +swim when he was very small, and he loves to splash and dive and play +in the water. + +Do you suppose that Swift Elk dresses himself after his bath? He does +not think clothing at all necessary except in winter. + +Does he help his mother in her work about the lodge? Never! "A boy does +not do squaw's work," he says. "A boy must learn to hunt and shoot." + +Is he not made to mind? Is he never punished? Oh, no; he will be a +great warrior some day, and his father says he ought not to be afraid +of any one. And so he lives the wild, free life of the Indian boy. He +spends his day in play, with no school, no lessons, and no work to do. + +When the father is at home he teaches the boy to notice very carefully +everything he sees. He must learn the names of plants and birds. He +must know the habits of animals and how to hunt them. Above +everything, he must be brave and daring. + +While the men are away hunting, the younger boys spend the day +shooting, fishing, swimming, and playing games. If they wish to throw +mud balls at each other, no one scolds them for being dirty. But if +one of them whimpers or cries, his companions will not let him play. +So the Indian boy learns early in life to bear pain without complaint. + +Swift Elk's father made a little bow and arrow for his son as soon as +he was old enough to run out of the wigwam. Each summer he received a +larger bow and more destructive arrows. + +Wherever the boy goes he carries his weapon, and he is always watching +for the chance to shoot a bird, rabbit, squirrel, or any wild animal. + +How his mother and grandmother praise him when he brings home game! +"You will be a great hunter," they say. "Soon you will be able to go +with your father to shoot bear and deer." + +Swift Elk sleeps on a bed of cedar boughs covered with skins. As the +first-born son, he has the place of honor. His bed is next to his +father's, close against the inner lining of the lodge, and nearly +opposite the entrance. + +This is the boy's own place, and he is allowed to decorate it as he +wishes. Birds' wings, feathers, and squirrels' tails show his skill in +hunting. + +[Illustration] + +Here he keeps nearly everything that he owns. He has hung his bow and +arrows on the lodge pole above his bed. His snowshoes, tops, and balls +are in a bag of skin high above the reach of baby hands. + +Swift Elk looks forward to the time when he shall be admitted to the +councils of his tribe and take part in their dances and yearly feasts. + +Like other Indian children, he has been trained to count time by +winters, moons, and sleeps, and so he does not know his exact age. He +has never heard of keeping birthdays; but he has had many feasts given +in his honor, which are the same to him as a party would be to you. + +When an Indian boy wins a game which requires great skill, or shows +himself brave in time of danger, his companions shout his praises. + +They go with him to the door of his lodge, telling of the brave deed +he has performed. Then they sing and dance in his honor. + +It is expected that the women of the lodge will show their pleasure by +giving each boy some dainty from the stores of food packed away for +feasts. + +On the day that Swift Elk first shot a rabbit his father gave a feast +for him, inviting all his relatives. But the most important +celebration of his whole life was when he won a victory in racing and +received his name. + + + + +THE NAMING OF SWIFT ELK + + +Unlike their sisters, Indian boys are seldom named in babyhood. Some +are known only as the sons of their fathers. Others bear the nicknames +given by their companions. But often a boy's name is decided upon by +reason of some important action of his own. + +For the first few years of Swift Elk's life he was spoken of as the +son of Fleet Deer. When he was quite small, he stood, one evening, +watching the older boys race. They ran in couples, their companions +standing on either side of the race course. There were yells of joy +for the victors, and jeers and howls for those who were so unlucky as +to trip or stumble in the way. + +A young hunter standing near noticed the shining eyes of the little +watcher and shouted, "Give the younger boys a chance!" And so the son +of Fleet Deer was started in the race with a boy of his own size. + +Once, twice, thrice, did the eager child outrun his playmate amid +shouts and laughter. His little feet seemed to fly over the ground. + +"He is as swift as a young elk," said the bystanders. And before the +racing was ended, the child was called again to the trial of speed, +this time with an older lad. Again he was first at the goal. + +"He will be a runner like his father," said the warriors who had come +near to watch the sports of their children. + +Fleet Deer, when a young man, was the fastest runner in his tribe. And +now his little son had won a race and the father was proud. He walked +slowly toward his lodge and entered the curtained opening. + +"Prepare a feast in honor of our son," he said to Good Bird, his wife. + +Standing in front of his wigwam, he called in a loud voice the names +of his brothers and kinsmen in the camp. + +[Illustration] + +They came, one by one, entered the low doorway, and were seated in a +circle close to the inner wall of the wigwam, some on the low beds and +some on mats. + +Nokomis and Good Bird passed to each a wooden dish containing meat, +dried berries, parched rice, and maple sugar. + +There were many prayers and much smoking of the long pipe which was +passed from host to guest. Then Fleet Deer led his son to the middle +of the wigwam. The child's face and body were painted, and his long +hair was braided and wound around his head. + +"You have seen my son outrun his playmates," said the father. "You +know that he has taken the honors of victory from a companion that is +older and larger. One and another who watched the race have said that +my son is like a young elk in his running. + +"I was but a lad, my kinsmen, when your former chief, my father, gave +me the name I bear. He has taken the long journey to the land of +spirits. Will you agree that his grandson bear the name of Swift Elk?" + +The warriors gravely bowed their heads in approval. Again the pipe was +passed, and the smoke curled and rose in the lodge. + +Swift Elk, the grandson of a great chief, had earned his name. + + + + +FIRE AND THE FIRE MAKERS + + +"Are you going away, Grandmother? Take me with you." + +"I am on my way to the forest, White Cloud. It will be a long walk for +you. We need dry moss and decayed wood for tinder. Some cold morning +we shall wake and find no red coals in the ashes. Then we shall need +some pieces of the driest of wood to kindle a new fire." + +"Let me go, and I will help you look for dry wood. I know I am big +enough to be a fire maker. Haven't I seen seven winters?" + +So Nokomis and White Cloud started on the trail that led to the wild +forest. There great trees had died and fallen, and the branches had +been decaying for many moons--no one can tell how many. + +"Is the fire always lost when we move our camp, Grandmother?" + +"Not always. Some lodge keepers try to carry a few coals, and the one +who succeeds is glad to share with others. But one person is often +sent ahead to the new camp to make a central fire out of doors. You +know it takes a long time to get a spark by rubbing two sticks +together." + +"How did the Indians get fire in the first place? And how did fire get +into wood?" asked White Cloud. + +"I will tell you, my child. I have heard all about it from the +story-tellers. + +"Once there was only one fire in all the world. It was kept in a +sacred wigwam and guarded by an old blind man. + +"All the Indians had heard about fire and wanted very much to get it. +But no one knew where it was hidden. + +"The old man had two daughters who gathered his wood. He used only the +driest branches, so that no smoke could be seen, and no odor from the +burning of green boughs be lifted to the wind. + +"But one day a tiny, curling wreath of smoke rose above the lodge +opening. + +"Of course the birds saw it, and flew over the lodge poles until they +discovered the secret. You may be sure that they chirped the news +wherever they flew. + +"A woodpecker went into a hole in a tree to carry his mate some food +and told her where fire was kept. He was overheard by a squirrel +running up the tree trunk. + +"'Chip, chip! chatter, chatter! Hear the squirrels in the tree tops,' +said a rabbit. 'What are they talking about?' By listening he soon +found out. + +"Then Bruin heard the rabbits, and the bear teased the wolf by letting +him know that the birds had a great secret. + +"A flock of sparrows settled in front of the wolf's den, and the wolf +soon heard all he wanted to know. He, in turn, told a dog that +sometimes ran with him at night. + +"Of course the dog told the boy he loved best, and so the Indians +found out where fire was hidden. + +"'We must have fire,' they said. 'Who will get it for us?' + +"At last Manabush said that he would try to get fire for his tribe. + +"Manabush was a daring young Indian hunter. Like Hiawatha, he spent his +life trying to help his people. He saw how fire was needed to warm the +lodges in winter, and to cook the raw meat freshly killed in the hunt. + +"So Manabush made a birch canoe and started across the great lake. +When he reached land he pulled his light canoe out of the water and +carried it on his back to a near-by thicket. Then he changed himself +into a rabbit and hopped away into the long grass. + +"Soon there came up a great storm. The old man guarded the sacred fire +with the utmost care until the rain was over. Then he went to sleep +near the glowing coals. + +"His daughters came out of the lodge to look at the sky. As they bent +down to enter the low door, they saw a little rabbit lying on the +grass. His fur was wet, and he was trembling with cold. + +"One of the daughters carried him in and laid him down where it was +warm. The rabbit hopped nearer the fire. + +"The old man started from his sleep. 'What do I hear?' he asked. + +"'You have heard nothing, Father. We picked up a little wet rabbit and +brought him in to dry.' + +"The old man closed his eyes again. His daughters turned and went on +with their work. Quickly the rabbit seized a burning stick and hopped +away by leaps and bounds. + +"Up jumped the old man. 'My fire, my sacred fire, is stolen!' he +cried. His daughters ran out of the lodge to chase the thief. + +"But the old blind man thought that someone was in the wigwam. So he +snatched a long stick and pounded so hard on every side that he beat +some of the fire into a log. This is the way that fire came to be in +wood." + +[Illustration] + +"What did the rabbit do, Grandmother?" + +"He ran to the canoe, changed back to a man, put the fire in a magic +bag, and paddled as fast as he could to his own camp. + +"There he lighted a pile of wood for his grandmother, and then hurried +away to the Thunderers. They have kept the sacred fire for the Indians +since that day." + +"Who are the Thunderers, Grandmother?" asked White Cloud. + +"After we have had our dinner I will tell you the story. Now we will +use some of our dry wood and make a fire." + +"Can I learn to get the fire out of wood?" asked White Cloud. + +"You will need to try again and again, for it is not an easy task. +Watch me, my child, and see how it is done." + +Nokomis soon had a pile of dry grass and twigs. Then she rubbed two +pieces of wood together for a long time. At last a spark flew from the +dry wood and the grass was lighted. + +Meat and birds' eggs were soon roasted in the hot ashes. After the +meal Nokomis and White Cloud started for home, each with a bundle of +wood strapped to her back. + +"Now I'm ready for the story you promised me," said White Cloud. + + + + +THE THUNDERERS + + +"Far in the east, above the sky, the great Thunderer lives with his +two sons. They are the friends of the whole world. When you hear their +voices be glad, for they are bringing the gift of rain. + +"In the spring they come from their sky home with the showers that +make the grass grow and the little plants peep out of the ground. + +"They water the earth; and the corn comes up, the sap flows for our +sugar, the trees open their leaves and blossoms, and the berries ripen. + +"Without their help every growing plant would turn brown and fade away. +The wild rice and the sugar trees would die. Animals would search in +vain for food, and they would crawl into their dens and perish. + +"There would be no game for the hunter to shoot. Then the terrible +famine spirits would enter our lodges, and we would sicken and die. + +"We should never fear the loud voices of the Thunderers, for they are +always good and kind. + +"They are the war chiefs of the world. When we see the rainbow, we +catch a glimpse of the splendid robes they wear. + +"In the middle of their great lodge burns the sacred fire, which they +guard for all the people of the earth." + +"I will never be afraid again when I hear them speaking," said White +Cloud. "But I like to be in the lodge when they bring their rain +storms. If they come to-day perhaps we can find a cave in the hills +our trail crosses." + +"It would not be safe for us to enter a cave in the forest," replied +Nokomis. "The Little People might be in it, and they would be +displeased." + + + + +THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE FOREST + + +"And now," said White Cloud, "I want to hear all about the Little +People." + +"Speak low, White Cloud. We are coming to the rocky hillside. We must +listen, for we may hear them drumming." + +"I wish we could! We would run and try to see them." + +"It would be far better for us to turn and run the other way. The +Little People do not like to be disturbed. If they should see us, they +might cast a spell on us." + +"What harm would that do us?" asked the child. + +"We would forget where we are going and who we are. We might wander in +the woods until we starved, for we could never find the trail home." + +"How do the Little People look, and what do they do? Does anyone know?" + +"They are handsome little men, smaller than the tiniest babies. By +daylight they drum and dance, for they are very fond of music. + +[Illustration] + +"If they are not disturbed, they are very kind and helpful, especially +to those who are in trouble. They do not like to be seen, and will +never work if a man or woman, or even a child, is in sight. + +"Sometimes they come to the cornfield when it is very dark. If they are +heard, no Indian goes out of the lodge. Often the field will be found +well weeded in the morning and the earth loose about the growing plants. + +"Once, in the moon of ripe corn, there was a woman alone with a sick +child. She heard the Little People near her lodge, and she remembered +to be very quiet. In the morning her corn was all picked for her. + +"If a hunter finds an arrow near the cornfield, he must say very loud: +'Little People, will you let me have this arrow?' for it may have been +shot from their bows. + +"If he takes it without asking, he may be hit with stones as he is +walking home." + +"Tell me about the boy who was changed into a hunter spirit," said +White Cloud. + +"There was once a boy," began Nokomis, "who ran away from home. He +grew smaller and smaller until he became like the spirits of the woods. + +"But he is full of mischief. You can sometimes tell what he is doing, +although he himself is never seen. + +"Have you not noticed your dog jump up quickly from the place where he +has been sleeping? The spirit of the runaway boy is whipping him with +nettles. + +"You will often see a flock of birds suddenly leave their food and fly +away. The little hunter spirit has frightened them. + +"When the tired hunter stops, far from his lodge, to roast his meat, +the little mischief-maker blows out his fire and fans the smoke into +his eyes. + +"He catches the arrows which are aimed at the birds and hides them. He +puts slippery clay in the path and laughs when the children fall. No +one can tell all his tricks of mischief." + +"Grandmother, look! Here is an arrow on the ground." + +"Let it be. We will not annoy the spirits. Now we must hurry home, for +the clouds darken and I can hear the loud voices of the Thunderers +starting out from their sky home." + + + + +BLACK WOLF TELLS A STORY + + +The boys were practicing with their bows and arrows. After a few +trials, in which little skill was shown, Swift Elk threw down his bow. +"I'm tired of shooting," he said. "Come on, boys, let's go to the lake +for a swim." + +Black Wolf, the oldest warrior of the tribe, was sitting on the ground +near by, watching the sport. + +"Do not give up," said the old man. "You are a big boy now. Only by +skill in shooting can you become a brave warrior. Let no one know you +are tired or weak. Remember the boy who was changed to the lone +lightning of the North." + +"Tell us the story," Swift Elk begged. "Then we will practice again +and do our best." + +The boys threw themselves on the ground near Black Wolf, and he began +the story. + +"There was once a little boy who had no one to care for him. His father +had been killed in war, and his mother taken captive by the enemy. + +"Minno, the lonely boy, lived in his uncle's wigwam, but he was not +wanted there. He had hard work to do and very little to eat. + +"He was too weak to join the rough games of his playmates, and he did +not become skillful with his bow and arrows like the other boys of the +tribe. + +"At last he became so thin from hunger that the uncle feared his cruel +treatment would become known. + +"So he told his wife to feed the boy with bear's meat. 'Give him +plenty of fat,' he ordered. 'Cram him with bear's fat.' It was now the +uncle's plan to kill the boy by overfeeding. + +"One day when Minno had been nearly choked with fat meat, he ran away. +He wandered about in the woods, and when night came he was afraid of +the wild beasts. So he climbed into a tall tree and fell asleep in +the branches. + +"In his dreams a person came to him from the upper sky and said: 'My +poor little lad, I pity you. Follow me, and be sure to step in my +tracks.' + +"So the lad arose and followed his guide up, up, into the upper sky. +There he was given twelve magic arrows and told to shoot the manitoes +of the North. + +"'They are the evil spirits of the air,' said his guide. 'You must go +to war against them. I have given you magic arrows that will kill them +if your aim is true.' + +"The boy placed an arrow with great care, but failed to kill a manito. +One, two, three, four, five, six arrows had left his bow, each leaving +behind it a long streak of lightning. But not one had reached its mark. + +"Carefully he aimed; seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. Alas! his skill +was not equal to his task. + +[Illustration] + +"Long he held the twelfth arrow. He looked around on every side. The +evil spirits had wonderful power, and they could change their forms in +a moment. + +"The boy let his last arrow fly toward the heart of the chief of the +manitoes. But the evil spirit saw it coming and changed himself into a +rock. + +"'How dare you try to kill me!' cried the angry manito. 'Now you shall +suffer. You shall evermore be like the trail of your arrow.' + +"And he changed the boy into the lone lightning which you so often +see, my children, in the northern sky." + +"I wish I could shoot as well as I can run," Swift Elk said. "It is +easy to win in the races, but I can never beat in a shooting match." + +"You can if you will practice more than the other boys. You remember +how the crane beat the humming bird in a race." + +"Tell us about it, tell us," begged all the boys. "Then we will shoot +our arrows all day long until the sun hides his face." + +The old man was silent for a time. Then he said, "I will tell you just +one more story. And you shall keep your word and practice until the +darkness creeps over the earth." + + + + +THE RACE BETWEEN THE CRANE AND THE HUMMING BIRD + +[Illustration] + + +The crane dared the humming bird to a race. The humming bird was as +swift as an arrow, but the crane flew slowly. + +At the word they both started. The humming bird was far ahead and he +stopped to roost on a limb; but the crane flew all night. + +The humming bird woke in the morning, thinking it would be no trouble +to win the race. He was very much surprised when he passed the crane +spearing fish for his breakfast! + +"How did the Slow One get ahead?" he thought. "I must start earlier +in the morning." He flew swiftly until dusk, when he stopped to roost +on a tree. + +The crane flew all night. Before morning he was again ahead, and he +had finished his breakfast when the Swift One passed him. + +"This is indeed strange," thought the humming bird. "But I can fly a +little faster, and it will be no trouble to win." So he stopped again, +far ahead, to take his usual sleep. + +The crane flew all night, as usual. He passed the sleeping humming +bird at midnight and was well on his way before he was overtaken. The +humming bird flew as long as he could see, and before midnight he was +again ahead. + +Each night the humming bird slept. Each night the crane flew. "Gaining +a little; gaining a little!" he said to himself. + +Later and later in the day did the Swift One pass the Slow One. +Earlier and earlier in the night did the Slow One pass the Swift One. + +On the last day of the race the crane was a night's travel ahead. He +took his time at breakfast. The humming bird passed him at sundown and +stopped to sleep. + +The next morning the humming bird flew like the wind and reached the +goal early in the day. But there stood the heavy crane waiting, for he +had flown all night! + + + + +HUNTING WILD DUCKS + + +Swift Elk had sharpened his arrows and taken his strongest bow from +the wooden peg over his bed. + +"I have seen wild ducks flying by the lake," he said. "I am going to +hide in the long grass and watch for them. If they come again, they +shall feel my arrows. To-night we eat roast duck." + +The boy ran toward the lake. His sister, White Cloud, watched him +until he was out of sight. "Why can't girls go hunting?" she said. "I +have seen seven winters. I shall follow his trail." + +The child ran along, hiding behind trees and bushes, and stepping +softly so that no broken twig could tell of her approach. + +Indian children can see farther and hear far better than we can. +Although the old-time Indian never went to school, yet he trained his +children to listen to every sound in the forest, and to notice all +signs of animal life. + +When White Cloud was near the lake, she hid in a clump of bushes and +watched. Just in sight was a little stream winding through the low +meadow. + +She saw Swift Elk run along its banks. She waited without +moving--waited as only an Indian child knows how to wait. + +At last, far off, she saw a speck in the sky, then another and +another. The specks grew larger. She held her breath. + +A flock of wild ducks flew across the lake. Near the shore they turned +and flew over the low meadow where the boy hunter was hiding in the +high grass. + +Suddenly the swift arrows flew. One, two, three, four ducks were hit +and fell to the ground. Swift Elk picked up three and swung them over +his shoulder. + +He looked a long time for the fourth duck. Then, seeing another flock +approaching, he ran toward the lake shore. + +Again he was fortunate in choosing the place of their approach. White +Cloud saw more arrows fly, and more ducks fall. Swift Elk ran on out +of sight. + +Then the little girl crawled from her hiding-place and crept along the +ground in search of the missing duck. Surely there was something +stirring in the long grass ahead. Almost afraid to move, the child +crept closer and closer, until she saw a duck with a broken wing +hanging useless by its side. + +In a moment she had caught it. She held the bird in her arms until its +struggles ceased. Then she bound its wing to its body with long pieces +of grass. + +She crawled to the stream and dropped water in its bill. The duck +swallowed the water but refused all food. + +White Cloud watched every movement in the distance, not daring to +stand lest Swift Elk return. So she worked her way, concealed by high +grass, to the home trail. + +How she ran until she reached the low wigwam built for her dolls! Here +she made a soft bed for the wounded bird. She smoothed its feathers +and talked to it. How happy she was when she was able to coax the duck +to eat the food she offered! + +Swift Elk came home at night with all the game he could carry. His +mother praised his hunting, and his father was pleased because he had +passed the entire day alone and without a mouthful of food. + +"You must endure hunger and thirst, cold and heat, danger and pain, if +you would become a great warrior," said his father. "And you must find +your way alone through the forest for miles and miles, listening every +moment for the footsteps of an enemy or the approach of a wild beast." + +A fire had been made in front of the lodge. The ducks were buried, +feathers and all, in the hot ashes. White Cloud brought wild berries +and water from the spring. As soon as the birds were roasted the +feathers and skins were pulled off and the hungry boy enjoyed his meal. + +But White Cloud watched her chance to carry part of her own food to +the duck. How she hated to leave him when the dark came on! But she +fastened the shelter securely, hoping that no lurking fox or weasel +would force his way inside. + +The next morning White Cloud was up before her brother. She hid in the +tiny lodge, to protect her pet until Swift Elk had left for the day. + +The duck soon became so tame that it followed her wherever she went. +The difficulty in taming the wild creature, and the constant danger of +losing it, led the child to be as kind and patient with her pet as an +Indian mother is with her papoose. + +One day Good Bird was roasting deer meat. She had made a hot fire in +front of the lodge. Sticks sharpened at both ends were driven in the +ground close to the bed of coals. The sticks were bent toward the +fire, and each one held a large piece of raw meat. + +[Illustration] + +When the meat was tender, Good Bird called her little daughter. "My +father is old," she said. "He can no longer hunt. Take some of this +roast meat to him." + +White Cloud took the dish and went to her grandfather's lodge, the +duck waddling behind her. After the old man had eaten, White Cloud +said, "Grandfather, do you know any stories about ducks?" + +"Point to the north, my grandchild, and tell me who live in the land +of ice and snow." + +"North Wind and Old Winter," answered the child. + +"And what do they do, little one?" + +"They send the game far from my father's arrows. They freeze our food +and try to starve us. North Wind gives the war whoop as he flies in +the forest. + +"Then Old Winter comes like the Indians on the war trail. We cannot +see him, and we cannot hear him. He does not break a twig, and his +footsteps make no sound. He crowds into our lodge, and tries to steal +our fire and freeze us. I wish he would never come again!" + +"We must be brave, my grandchild. We must make ready with food and +firewood to fight his power. I will tell you of a brave little duck +that even North Wind could not conquer." + + + + +A BRAVE DUCK + + +Far to the north lived Wild Duck. His lodge was by the frozen lake. +Winter was beginning, and he had but four logs of wood for his fire. + +"Four logs will do," he said. "Each log will burn for many sleeps, and +then spring will be on the way." + +Wild Duck was as brave as a warrior. On the coldest days he went to +the lake to fish. He found the rushes that grew high above the water. +With his strong bill he pulled up the frozen plant stems. Then he +dived through the holes he had made in the ice and caught the fish +swimming beneath. + +In this way he found plenty of food. Every day he went home to his +lodge dragging strings of fish. North Wind blew his fiercest blasts, +but no wind was cold enough to keep Wild Duck in his wigwam. + +"This is a strange duck!" said North Wind. "He seems as happy as if +it were the moon of strawberries. He is hard to conquer, but I will +freeze him." + +So the wind blew colder and colder, and great drifts of snow were +piled up about the wigwam. But still the fire burned brightly. The +duck went daily to the lake, and daily he brought home fish. + +"Soon I will visit him," said North Wind. "Then he shall feel my power." + +That very night North Wind went to the door of the wigwam. He lifted +the curtain and looked in. + +Wild Duck had cooked his fish and was lying before the bright fire. He +was singing a song to his enemy. + +"You may blow as hard as you can, North Wind," he sang. "I dare you to +freeze me. You may pile the snow to the top of my lodge. I shall climb +the drifts and go fishing just the same." + +"How dare a little duck sing like this about me?" blustered North Wind. +"I will enter. I will blow my cold breath upon him, and he will freeze." + +North Wind pushed his way through the door and sat down on the +opposite side of the lodge. Cold blasts filled the hut. + +Was Wild Duck afraid? He got up and poked the fire, singing his song +louder and louder. Not once did he look at his guest. + +"Does he not know that I am here?" thought North Wind. + +The little duck stirred the great log until it crackled and snapped. + +"I cannot stand this heat," said North Wind to himself. "I am melting. I +must go out." The water was dripping from his hair, and tears ran down +his cheeks. He crept out of the wigwam and left Wild Duck to his songs. + +"What a wonderful duck!" he said. "I cannot freeze him, I cannot even +stop his singing. The spirit of the fire is helping him, and I will +let him alone." + +And to this day you can see the wild duck fishing where the rushes +grow. He is warm in his coat of thick feathers, and North Wind can +never freeze the brave little duck. + +[Illustration] + + + + +SUMMER SPORTS + + +Swift Elk and his companions were cutting great chunks of clay from +the bank near the stream. Soon a crowd of boys, each armed with a +large piece of clay and a long green switch, ran shouting to the +near-by forest. + +Here they divided into two bands for a sham battle, and all hid behind +trees. Balls of clay were pressed on the ends of the slender sticks +and thrown, as you would throw green apples. + +Swift Elk ran out from behind the tree where he had been hiding. +Quickly he threw mud balls at every boy that he saw peeping at him. + +Other boys rushed from their sheltering tree trunks to dare the +opposing forces. A shower of mud balls filled the air. There were +shouts and war whoops, advances and retreats. + +Dogs, barking and jumping, rushed into battle with their masters. + +When the clay was all used, the boys ran to the bank for more. For +half a day the fight went on, many prisoners being taken on both sides. + +Here and there were young braves who had been hit in the face and +badly hurt. One was suffering great pain with a swollen eye. + +Do you think he left the game and ran home? Do you think he cried or +told tales? A boy would rather stand pain than be laughed at by his +companions. "Tears are for girls and women," they had all heard their +fathers say. "A warrior must not notice pain." + +At last, heated and mud-stained, they ran to the lake and jumped in. +You would have thought they all needed a bath, could you have seen them. + +Splashing and swimming, diving and yelling, they continued their +battle by wrestling in the water. The day wore on. One by one, tired +with action, they left the lake. Some lay on the grass, and others +made images of animals with soft clay. + +[Illustration] + +Two or three boys, very hungry, shot some birds, made a fire, and +roasted their game. It mattered not to them that their food was far +from clean. + +Before they went home at night, Swift Elk's band dared the other side +to a ball game, to be played the next morning. + +"Let us ask Black Wolf to watch our game," said Swift Elk. All agreed. +The old warrior could not go on the long hunt or the warpath, and +nothing gave him greater pleasure than to help the boys and young men +in their games of strength or skill. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE BALL GAME + + +Early in the morning the boys met on the level piece of ground that +had been selected for the game. At each end of the field two upright +poles, a little distance apart, were erected for goal sticks. + +In the great ball games played by the men, each side is allowed but +one goal stick, which must be hit by the ball. As this is very +difficult, Black Wolf helped the boys set up two very long sticks, +between which the winner's ball was to be thrown. + +Each player always carries a ball stick bent at one end into a small +hoop or ring. Strips of rawhide are passed through holes in the hoop, +making a netted pocket in which the ball may rest half hidden. + +The one simple rule that each player follows at all times is: "Keep +the ball away from your own goal." Only by sending the ball off the +field between the two goal sticks of the opposite side can victory be +won. + +Swift Elk and Antelope were chosen captains because they were good +runners. All the best players stood in the middle of the field. The +younger boys were grouped about the goal sticks with orders to send +the ball back into the field. + +At a signal from Black Wolf, Antelope tossed the ball into the air. It +was caught by a player on his own side, who started to run in the +opposite direction from his own goal sticks. + +The ball was knocked out of his hand and thrown the other way. Back +and forth it went until Antelope caught it in his ball stick. He +started at full speed toward the goal on Swift Elk's side. + +In a moment he was caught and the ball again turned. Running, +screaming, throwing, pushing, striking each other's arms with ball +sticks, the boys rushed together. + +At last Antelope's side gained the advantage. Nearer and nearer the +ball came to Swift Elk's goal sticks. One strong throw, and the game +would be won. Antelope's players danced and yelled with joy. + +Suddenly a younger boy, one of the poor players who was made to stand +on guard, caught the ball and sent it whizzing toward Swift Elk. + +The other side, sure of success, was taken by surprise. Before +Antelope could turn, Swift Elk had the start and was speeding toward +the opposite goal. + +"Never was there a finer race," Black Wolf thought. All the boys had +crowded together at one end of the line to see the victory, leaving an +open field for the two fleetest runners. + +You would have liked to see the two Indian lads with painted bodies +running like the wind. They were followed by a crowd of boys shouting, +howling, rushing, pushing, and trying in vain to overtake them. + +But not even Antelope could regain the advantage he lost in starting. +Swift Elk swung his stick and sent the ball spinning between the two +poles of the goal. He had won the game for his side. + +After the victors had shouted themselves hoarse, they lay down on the +ground near Black Wolf and asked for a story. + +"I will tell you," said the old man, "of the most wonderful ball game +the world ever saw. It happened long ago when the animals ruled the +land and there were no people on the earth." + + + + +THE ANIMALS AND THE BIRDS PLAY BALL + + +Once the animals dared the birds to play a game of ball with them. The +birds chose the eagle for their captain, and the animals chose the bear. + +They all talked at the same time, trying to make their plans. When +should they play? Where should they play? "Leave that to the eagle and +the bear," said the deer. And all agreed. + +At the appointed time the animals met on a smooth, grassy plain and +the birds in a tree top near by. + +Captain Bear was so large and heavy that he could pull down anyone who +came in his way. All along the trail to the ball ground he tossed up +great logs to show his strength; and he bragged of what he would do to +the birds when the game began. + +The turtle, at that time, was very much larger than he is now. His +shell was so hard that the heaviest blows could not hurt him. + +[Illustration] + +He, too, was a great brag. Again and again he rose on his hind feet +and dropped heavily to the ground. "Look at me," he said. "See how I +will crush any bird that tries to take the ball from me." The swift +deer, the mountain goat, and the rabbit were at their best speed. +Indeed, the animals had a fine team. + +The eagle gathered his forces together. There was the hawk, strong and +swift, and the wild geese that can fly without resting. The black +martin was there and the crow, with a host of other birds. The blue +jay was chosen to scream in the ears of the animal players, and the +humming bird to fly in their eyes. + +The birds looked at the great animals on the field below, and were +afraid. Just then two little things hardly larger than field mice +climbed the tree where sat the bird captain. + +They begged to join the game. + +"You have four feet; why do you not go to the animals, where you +belong?" asked the eagle. + +"We did," said the little things, "but they drove us off because we +are so small." + +"Let them play, let them play," called out the birds in pity. + +But how could they join the birds when they had no wings? The eagle +and the hawk consulted, and it was decided to make wings for the +little fellows. What could they find for wings? + +At last someone remembered the drum they used in their dances. The +head was made of ground-hog skin. So they took the drumhead, cut two +wings, and made the bat. + +Then they threw the ball to him. The bat dodged and circled about, +keeping the ball always in the air; and the birds soon saw that he +would be one of their best men. + +The other little animal came for wings, but there was no more leather. +What could be done? Two birds thought they might enable him to fly by +stretching his skin. Thus was the flying squirrel made. + +To try him, the bird captain threw up the ball. The flying squirrel +sprang off the limb after it, caught it in his teeth, and carried it +to another tree below. + +All were now ready. The signal was given and the game began. At the +first toss the flying squirrel caught the ball and carried it up a +tree. He threw it to the birds, who kept it in the air for some time, +until it dropped. + +The bear rushed to get it, but the martin darted after it and threw +it to the bat. By dodging and doubling, the bat kept it out of the way +of the swift deer. And now the game was close. The great deer could +not turn as quickly as the bat, and so he lost the game. The little +bat threw the ball between the posts and won the victory for the birds. + +And the bear and the turtle, who had done the most bragging, did not +have a chance even to touch the ball. + +For saving the ball when it dropped, the martin was given a gourd to +build his nest in. And he still has it, for you can often see a gourd +on a post near the Indian lodges. + + + + +GATHERING WILD RICE + + +"Have you seen the beautiful new canoe father has just finished?" +asked White Cloud. + +"Seen it! I helped make it," answered Swift Elk. "I cut nearly all the +birch bark." + +"Your father has it ready for the wild-rice harvest," said Good Bird. +"To-day I go to tie the stalks. You are to help me, White Cloud." + +Nothing could have pleased the little girl better. All summer she had +hoped for this great pleasure. From a low hill near her home she had +watched the growth of the rice. + +When the June berries were ripe, the first shoots came up near the +shore of the lake. In a few weeks the rice beds looked like beautiful +green islands in the water. + +And when the yellow-green blossoms opened, she coaxed her father to +take her in his canoe to the rice plants. She picked the flowers, +shaded with reddish purple, and she saw the spreading mass of +blossoms, their straw-colored anthers moving with every breeze. + +Swift Elk was very proud of the new canoe. He had made the paddles, +and had cut the forked sticks that would be needed to force the boat +through the shallow water. + +"When the rice is ripe, I'll go with you and manage the boat," he said +to his mother. "When you come home to-night, White Cloud, bring some +green rice to parch for supper." + +"I'll have some all ready for you," promised his sister. "You shoot a +deer to-day, and to-night we'll have a feast. We'll ask grandfather, +and perhaps he'll tell us a story." + +Soon Good Bird was paddling rapidly toward the rice beds. It was a +beautiful morning, and White Cloud was as happy as any little girl +could ever be. + +For many weeks she had helped her mother prepare the string for tying +the rice stalks. It was cut from the inner bark of the basswood tree. +The narrow bands were wound in a ball so large that the child could +hardly reach around it. + +"Why do you tie the wild rice stalks, Mother?" she asked. + +"So that our little brothers, the birds, can not eat all our grain," +answered Good Bird. "All the bunches we have tied are our own, and +will be more easily harvested. No friendly Indian ever touches the +heads of rice bound together by another." + +With a curved stick Good Bird pulled a mass of stalks within her reach +and bound the heads firmly together with the narrow strips of bark. +For hours she worked, forcing her way through the thick mass of water +plants and tying the stalks on both sides of the canoe. + +"May I come here again with you when the wild rice is ripe?" asked +White Cloud. + +"It will take two strong women to gather the harvest, my child; but +the canoe is very long and I think you can help." + +[Illustration] + +"How is it done, Mother?" asked the child. + +"Swift Elk will sit at one end of the canoe and paddle. Nokomis will +bend the stalks over the boat and untie the long pieces of bark, and I +shall beat the heads with a stick. The grain will fall until the boat +holds as much as it is safe to carry." + +"Are we going to take home any to-day?" asked White Cloud. + +"Oh, yes; when the rice is not quite ripe it is just right for +parching. As soon as my rows are all tied, you shall help me gather +the greenish kernels." + +Good Bird worked until she had used all her string. The long rows of +heads, neatly tied, looked very fine. + +New plants were found, and the stalks beaten with a stick. The rice +fell into the canoe, and White Cloud found it was good to eat even +without cooking. By sunset the bottom of the canoe was covered with +grain, and they started home across the quiet lake. + +"May we have maple sugar with our rice to-night, Mother?" + +"There is very little left, my daughter. I think we would better save +it for winter." + +"When are we going to the sugar trees to make more?" + +"After the winter is nearly over and the first crow comes to tell us +that the sap is flowing. Then we will move to our sugar lodge and stay +for a whole moon." + +"May I take care of a kettle and boil sugar next time we go to the +lodge?" asked White Cloud, "By that time I can count eight winters." + +"You may if you will cut birch bark and make your own sap dishes. You +will need a great many." + +"Why can't we eat the sugar we have, Mother? What is the use of saving +it?" + +"There may be little food on the cold, snowy days that are coming. We +shall need the sugar more then than we do now. Have you forgotten the +story of the ant and the katydid?" + +"Tell it again. Tell it now before we get home, Mother." + +"I think there is time, as it is a short story," said Good Bird. And +White Cloud listened to the tale of the lazy katydid and the +hard-working ant while the canoe moved slowly across the quiet lake. + + + + +THE ANT AND THE KATYDID + + +The oldest ant was building an underground home. Through the long +summer days she worked, carrying out a grain of sand at a time. Then +she filled her storehouse with food for the winter. + +Her work was finished just as the frost came to mow down the growing +plants. All summer the katydid called from the trees, and the locust +danced and buzzed in the sunshine. + +When winter came, the oldest ant was warm and comfortable and she had +enough food for her daily needs. + +But the locust and the katydid were cold and hungry. "Why should we +freeze?" chirped the katydid. "The ant has a warm house." "And why +should we be hungry?" said the locust. "The ant has plenty of food." +So together they went to the home of the oldest ant. + +"Let us in, let us in, kind ant," they cried. "We are cold and hungry." + +"What did you do through the warm weather?" asked the oldest ant. + +"We played in the sunshine. We chirped and buzzed and sang." + +"Did you build no lodge? Could you not store food for the time of +frost and storm?" + +"We had no need to work when the summer was here with its warmth and +beauty. We danced away the happy hours." + +"Go dance away the winter, then," said the oldest ant. "I worked hard +through all the long summer days, and I had no time to dance or sing." + +The locust and the katydid turned away shivering. "It is not fair," +they said, "that the ant has plenty and we have nothing. She should be +forced to let us in." + + + + +HOW WILD RICE WAS DISCOVERED + + +When Good Bird and White Cloud reached home, they found great +rejoicing. Swift Elk had shot his first deer, and the meat was already +roasting by an outdoor fire. + +The hunters had found game in abundance that day, and many feasts were +already called in the village. + +Swift Elk had chosen to invite only his grandparents, and they were +already listening to his story of the hunt. + +White Cloud made haste to parch the rice, and soon a very hungry +family was enjoying the fresh and abundant food. + +After the supper the children asked their grandfather to tell them +stories about wild rice. + +The old man remembered more than one fierce battle for the possession +of the rice fields. Many years had passed since the peace pipe was +last smoked, and the children had lived without being in constant +fear of war. + +"My grandchildren," he said, "I will tell you how rice came to be used +in the earliest times. There are many stories about Manabush, and you +have heard how he wrestled with Mondamin and obtained the gift of corn. + +"In his early youth Manabush lived with his grandmother, who taught +him his duty to his people. + +"One day she said to him: 'My grandson, you are old enough to prove +yourself a man. Before you can become a great warrior you must show +that you are able to endure many hardships without complaint. + +"'Set forth on a long journey alone and without food. Travel through +unknown forests, enduring hunger and thirst. Sleep on the cold ground, +and pray for a vision that shall be your guide through life.' + +"Manabush took his bow and arrows and went out into the forest. He +fasted many days until he became weak and faint from hunger. + +"In his wanderings he drew near the shore of a lake. Great beds of +wild rice filled half its waters, but Manabush did not know that the +seeds were good to eat. + +"As he walked along within reach of the growing plants, he heard a +soft voice say, 'Sometimes they eat us.' + +"'Who is speaking?' he asked. All the bushes that grew so thickly in +the water seemed full of whispers. He looked about and saw birds of +many kinds feeding on the tall grass-like plants. + +"So he picked some of the grain and ate it. 'Oh, but you are good! +What do they call you?' he asked. + +"Again the rustling whispers in the tall grass seemed to say, 'Wild +rice. They call us wild rice!' + +"Manabush waded out into the water and beat the grain from the heads. +So his fast was broken by the new food given in answer to his prayers +in the forest. + +"And since that time, my children, the wild rice feeds thousands of +our people every year. It grows without planting in the lakes and +rivers of our forest land. + +"Another story tells us that Manabush returned one day from a long +hunt without game. The fire in front of his lodge was still burning, +and a duck was sitting on the kettle eating boiled rice. + +"Manabush tasted the new food and found it good. He followed the bird +to a lake not far away where wild rice had grown and ripened. +Afterwards boiled rice became a common food among his tribe." + + + + +MOVING THE DOLLS' CAMP + + +White Cloud ran out of her wigwam home. Her work was done, and a happy +time of play was before her. + +She hurried through the tall grass toward a near-by lodge, calling: +"Flying Squirrel, come and play with me." + +The skin curtain hanging over the lodge door was raised and a little +head appeared. But there was no squirrel to be seen, only an Indian +girl with the blackest of hair and eyes. + +Her playmates had given her the name of Flying Squirrel because she +was always climbing trees and jumping from one branch to another. + +"Bring your dolls," said White Cloud. "We'll build lodges for them. +Come as soon as you can, for my baby is trying to get away." + +"Your baby! What do you mean? Where did you find a baby?" + +White Cloud was rejoicing in a family of young puppies--new playthings +for her. She had bound one of them to a board, and had tied the board +cradle to her back, as a squaw carries a papoose. + +"Be still! Be still, bad baby!" she cried to her squirming pet. But +the little dog would not be still. He howled louder and louder, and +struggled so hard that he broke away from his cords and bands. + +"Bad baby! Bad baby!" said White Cloud. "Next time I'll tie you +tighter!" + +Flying Squirrel brought out an armful of dolls, and the children went +to the bushes to cut long straight sticks. They soon found enough +poles for their dolls' wigwams. Each child set up her sticks in a +circle, bringing them together at the top. + +"Now we'll hunt birch bark," said Flying Squirrel. "My father has made +me a new knife." + +Soon the small lodges were covered with long strips of bark and the +floors sprinkled with cedar twigs. + +"I wish we had skin covers for our dolls' wigwams," said White Cloud. + +Flying Squirrel looked at the even strips of bark that were well +placed around her frame of slender poles. "Lots of people have bark +covers," she replied. "My father has seen whole villages of +bark-covered lodges." + +"When the peace pipe was smoked over west, my father was there," said +White Cloud. "Now we can get big skins in trade, and sometime we'll +have ponies. Have you ever seen a pony, Flying Squirrel?" + +"No; but my father saw white men when he went north in the moon of +snow to trade furs. He says the tribes west will come and fight us +again for our rice beds. Let's play a war is coming and move our camp. +Where are your dolls, White Cloud?" + +"I couldn't bring them, for I had my puppy baby. You have dolls +enough for both of us." + +Flying Squirrel gave her playmate two of the queerest-looking dolls +you ever saw. They were rolls of deerskin with faces painted in black +on the ends. + +The children tied the smaller dolls in board cradles, hung them to the +lodge poles, and sang lullabies. + +Good Bird had packed a basket of food for her little daughter. Dried +meat, berries, parched rice, and corn made a fine feast. All were +invited, even the puppy, and the largest dolls were honored guests. + +"I wish I had my new beaded bag to show you," said White Cloud. "I +shall put my doll's best clothes in it and hang it over her bed. Are +you learning to sew, Flying Squirrel?" + +"I don't like to sew. I would rather climb trees. It's time to move +now. Let's get ready. We will go to the stream that flows into the +lake." And Flying Squirrel began to whistle for her dogs. + +"My big dog is home with the rest of her puppies. May I have one of +yours?" asked White Cloud. "Last moon my father visited a friendly +camp. There were thirty lodges and more dogs than he could count. I +wish he had brought me another big one." + +White Cloud did not say "thirty," for she knew no word for so large a +number. She raised her ten fingers three times, just as she had seen +her father do. + +Flying Squirrel called her dogs, and they came running to her. She had +begun to train them to draw loads, and they stood quite still while +the girls harnessed them for moving. The bark covers of the two lodges +were taken off and carefully rolled. Then the lodge poles were corded +in two long straight bundles. Flying Squirrel crossed the small ends +and fastened them above the dog's back. The large ends dragged on the +ground. + +[Illustration] + +Back of the dog the sticks were held in place by two cross pieces of +wood carefully tied a little way apart. Between the cross pieces was a +strong netting that hung down like a shallow bag. The dolls and rolls +of bark were laid in one of the nets. What should the other dog carry? + +"I know," exclaimed White Cloud. "My puppy shall have a ride." He was +caught and firmly tied. The net was a comfortable bed, and he made no +objection. + +Soon the camp was packed, and the children started. The dogs trotted +along quietly, and everything went well for a time. As they came near +the little stream where they wished to set their camp, a rabbit ran +across the trail. Away went the dogs. + +The rabbit leaped over the narrow stream. One of the dogs plunged +after him, and out went the dolls and bark into the water. + +The other dog shook himself free from his harness. The lodge poles he +was dragging turned upside down, holding the howling puppy in the mud. + +"Oh, my puppy will drown!" cried White Cloud as she dashed down the +muddy banks in rescue. + +"My dolls! My best dolls are spoiled!" mourned Flying Squirrel. + +Soon the dogs were called back, everything found, the dolls bathed and +laid out to dry. Then the lodges were set up, and the children rested +in the sun. + +As they looked about, White Cloud saw a feather lying on the grass. +It was painted, as if it had fallen from a warrior's bonnet. + +"You had better take that feather to your father now," said Flying +Squirrel. "Perhaps there is going to be a war, and a spy has passed this +way. I am afraid. I shall pack all my things and go home with my dogs. + +"Here, put this leaf around it and run to your mother. She will know +what to do." + +Away ran White Cloud, holding a sprawling puppy in her arms and trying +to protect the feather, which she had concealed in a large leaf. + + + + +FINDING A WAR FEATHER + + +"Look, Mother; look at the big feather I have found. It is not like +the ones in my father's war bonnet." + +Good Bird took the feather and examined it carefully. + +"Where did you find it, White Cloud?" she asked. + +"Near the little stream that runs into the lake. Flying Squirrel and I +have moved our dolls' lodges this morning." + +"You must take the feather to your father at once. It may be that some +enemy is planning war and getting ready to surprise our camp. + +"Then you must move your dolls and their lodge near by where I can see +you play. You may be in danger. + +"Your father is spearing fish in the lake. Now run to him. Let no one +see the feather, and do not turn aside to talk to any one like the +little hare that did not mind its mother." + +"When will you tell me the story of the hare?" asked White Cloud. + +"Do not talk about stories now. Run along. You must not wait a minute. +I will watch you all the way. Your father, I think, will come back +with you." + +White Cloud soon found her father. He left his fishing and returned +with his little daughter. + +A council of the tribe was called, for the strange feather had been +dropped by no friendly Indian. + +Then the medicine drum was beaten to call the people together. They +were told of the danger, and there was a great stir in the village. +Everything was made ready for sudden moving in case of attack. All the +trained dogs were called and tied in the wigwams of their owners. + +A guard of young Indians was placed on watch for the night. Fleet Deer +came late to his lodge, and after eating he joined the warriors. + +As nothing more could be done, Good Bird comforted her frightened +little daughter by stories. Swift Elk pretended to be very brave. He +did not run out of the wigwam as usual, but lay on the ground and +listened to his mother. + +"Now, my daughter," she said, "I'll tell you the story you asked for +this morning." + + + + +THE LYNX AND THE HARE + + +Once a little hare asked her mother if she might play on the big rock +near the lodge. + +"Yes, little one, but you must not leave the rock. And be sure that +you do not speak to any stranger who passes by," replied her mother. + +Now the rock was low near the lodge, but very high on the other side, +where it overlooked a stream. + +A hungry lynx saw the little hare jumping on the high rock. "I must +have that hare for my dinner," he said. So he spoke in a kind voice. +"Wabose, Wabose. Come here, my little white one." + +The hare went to the edge of the rock and looked down. + +"Come here, pretty Wabose. I want to talk with you," said the lynx in +a coaxing voice. + +"Oh, no," said the hare. "I am afraid of you. My mother told me not +to talk to strangers." + +"You are very pretty, and you are a good, obedient child. But I am not +a stranger. I am a relative of yours. Go down the rock and come to the +stream where I can see you better. I want to send some word to your +lodge. Come down and see me, you pretty little hare." + +The hare was pleased to be praised and called pretty. When she heard +that the lynx was a relative, she forgot to obey her mother. + +She jumped down from the rock where she stood and trotted to the +stream. There the lynx pounced upon her and tore her to pieces. + +"Don't you know any war stories?" asked Swift Elk. + +"Yes; I heard one in the moon of snow that you will like," answered +his mother. + + + + +HOW THE ANIMALS SAVED THE TRIBE + + +Once there was an Indian village in great danger. The trail of the +enemy had been found on every side of the camp. + +The women were making ready for flight. They had harnessed their dogs +to the dragging poles. The rawhide netting between the braces that +held the poles in place was packed with household goods. + +An attack was expected in the early morning. Guards were stationed to +call the men to battle, and to tell the women which way to flee with +their children. + +The warriors all were ready. Their chief went out alone under the +stars, and prayed that he might be able to save his people from death. + +Suddenly a deer with branching horns stood before him. "I have come to +tell you that your prayers are heard," he said. + +"We, the animals, invite you to our council. We shall give you the +power to save your tribe." + +[Illustration] + +They traveled on together until they came to a cave under a rocky +bluff near the river. Here the warrior chief was welcomed and given +the seat of honor. + +Every animal of field and forest, and every bird of the air, had +gathered in the immense cavern. There was silence for a moment. Then a +great eagle flapped his wings. He stood on a jutting rock in sight of +all. + +"Your acts of kindness, oh, warrior, are known to us," said the +eagle. "You have hunted only for food, as the animals hunt. Your +arrows have not been shot to take life without a reason. No bird nor +beast has been left by you to suffer and die. + +"Therefore, I, the eagle, king of birds, give you of my courage. You +shall fear no warlike band, however many. Alone you shall conquer the +enemy." + +"And I," said the bear, "give you of my gift of healing. You shall be +able to cure yourself, and also your fellow warriors, of any wounds +you may receive in battle." + +"My fleetness is yours," said the deer. "You shall outstrip all others +and run like the wind." + +The wolf stretched himself and walked noiselessly into the circle. +"When you creep into the enemy's camp," he said, "no eye shall be able +to see you. Thus may you rout your enemies, and no one shall know who +is striking the blows." + +"I am small," said the field mouse; "I leave no tracks on the grass, +and send no sound into the air. I give you my power, that none may +follow your trail nor hear your footfall." + +"No one can give a better gift than I," said the owl. "You shall see +in the dark as I do. The night shall be to you like the day." + +"You have fed me," said the dog. "You have taken me into your lodge +and let me lie by the warm fire. I give you in return my power of +smell that you may follow the trail of your enemy." + +Suddenly there was no cave in sight, no animals in council. Where he +had been praying under the open sky, the warrior chief stood alone. +Was it all a dream? + +From the grass came a faint strange smell. He followed it fast as the +fleetest deer. In what seemed but a moment he was in sight of the +sleeping foe. + +He entered their camp as silently as the field mouse. Like the eagle +he had no fear. He struck out with his weapons. In great surprise the +painted Indians awoke and jumped to their feet. + +Wounded men fell under blows that could not be seen nor heard. Their +chief lay still upon the ground. + +"There is magic here," they cried. "We cannot fight against magic." +And they aroused their band and fled, leaving everything behind them. + +Then the victor sped with the fleetness of the deer to his own tribe. +The men, waiting for the battle signal, followed him to the deserted +camp. They returned laden with weapons, the finest of bows and arrows, +spears, war bonnets, stores of food, and other spoils of war. + +Joy spread among the people. In the village of wigwams feasting took +the place of fear. + +"I wish I had been that warrior," said Swift Elk. + +"You may have a chance to be just as brave to-morrow," answered his +mother. "I depend on you to take your father's place here if he goes +into battle." + +The children could keep awake no longer, but Good Bird did not close +her eyes. The dawn came on, the sun rose, and there was no attack. + +For many days and nights the young braves took their turn in watching. +There were no further signs of an enemy, and no one ever found out how +the strange feather came to be dropped near the camp. + + + + +WINTER EVENINGS + + +The wind roared in the trees, and the snow was falling. But Fleet +Deer's lodge was warm and comfortable. Good Bird, his wife, knew how +to make a lodge, and how to keep it from being smoky. + +She had sewed heavy skins together for the outside cover of the +wigwam. Inside, the lower walls were of tanned doeskin, nearly white. +The cold air passing between the lining and the cover ventilated the +room and carried the smoke out of the smoke hole. + +In the middle of the circular floor was a stone-lined fire pit, now +filled with glowing coals that gave light to the room. + +Warm skins with the fur uppermost covered the three long platforms +that were used for seats in the daytime and for beds at night. + +Good Bird took great pride in her home. She kept the floor swept with +a cedar broom and everything in its place. + +[Illustration] + +When not busy in preparing food, she made clothing and moccasins. She +stained porcupine quills for trimmings, and made necklaces of shells. +The teeth of wild animals were used for ornaments. + +On this cold winter evening Good Bird was dressed in a handsome +garment trimmed with fringe and colored quills. Her moccasins and +leggings were also ornamented. + +She had braided her hair neatly, and drawn a line of fresh red paint +along the parting. Her forehead and cheeks were also touched with red. + +"Are you going to a dance, Mother?" asked White Cloud. + +Good Bird said nothing, but smiled as she thought of the guest who was +expected and the pleasant surprise in store for her children. + +The evening meal was over. Nokomis had opened her stores of maple sugar +and corn in honor of Swift Elk, who had won the game of tops that day. + +Whipping his winter top over level snow and high drifts alike, he had +outdistanced his companions by fifty paces. + +White Cloud sat by the fire drying her moccasins. She had been out +sliding with her playmates until the sun left the sky. You would have +thought their sleds very funny, for they were made of the curved rib +bones of a large deer. + +Swift Elk was studying the strange signs and markings on the lining +of the wigwam. He was never tired of hearing the pictures explained, +for they showed in order the chief events in his father's life. + +Here was the grizzly bear that Fleet Deer had killed single-handed. +For this deed of bravery he was entitled to wear an eagle's feather. + +Here was the deer that was killed in time of famine, after a long and +dangerous hunt. + +Other pictures showed Indians in the war dance, on the war trail, +surprising the foe, returning with the honors of battle, holding a +council, and smoking the peace pipe. + +Fleet Deer was master of the Indian art of picture writing, and he had, +that very day, added new paintings to the record. His children had never +heard of any other way to read or write, and they had never seen a book. + +The flap of skin covering the lodge entrance was raised and a man +entered. + +"The story-teller! The story-teller!" shouted the children with +delight. He was given the seat of honor and the best food that Good +Bird could provide. + +When the guest was warm and his meal over, favorite stories were asked +for. + +"We ought to hear again of the great gift of corn to our people," said +Good Bird. + +"New stories, I want new stories. Will you tell us some new stories?" +asked White Cloud. + +"War stories, I want, and stories of boys," said Swift Elk. + +Then Fleet Deer, the father, spoke: "I wish my son to know the tale of +the White Canoe and how a great warrior honored his parents." + +Nokomis had no request. She was a fine story-teller herself and +interested in hearing everything that might be related. + +Then, to the joy of his hearers, the story-teller began. + +First he delighted the children by telling of the ground hog that +saved his own life by teaching a new dance. + +The next tale was about the first animals and how they came to live in +the forests and on the plains. + +After the story-teller had explained how sickness came into the world, +Fleet Deer wanted to be a medicine man and find all the plants that +cure disease. + +And so they all listened to one tale after another until the midnight +stars shone overhead and the embers grew white where the burning logs +had sparkled. + +Now you may read for yourselves the stories that were told in an +Indian lodge on a winter evening. + + + + +THE GROUND-HOG DANCE + + +Seven wolves once caught a ground hog. "Now we'll kill you and have +something good to eat," they said. + +But the ground hog replied: "When we find good food we must rejoice +over it, as people do in the green-corn dance. I know you mean to kill +me, and I can't help myself, but if you want to dance I'll sing for you. + +"I will teach you a new dance. I'll lean up against seven trees in +turn, and you will dance away, then come back toward me. At the last +turn you may kill me." + +The wolves were very hungry, but they wanted to learn the new dance. +So they told the ground hog to go ahead. The ground hog leaned up +against the first tree and began the song. + +All the wolves danced away from the trees. When the signal was given +they danced back in line. + +[Illustration] + +"That's fine!" said the ground hog, as he went to the second tree and +began the second song. The wolves danced away, then turned at the +signal and danced back again. + +"That's very fine," said the ground hog; and he went to another tree +and started the third song. + +The wolves danced their best, and were praised by the ground hog. At +each song he took another tree, and each tree was a little nearer to +his hole under a stump. + +At the seventh song he said, "Now this is the last dance. When I give +the signal you will all turn and come after me. The one who catches me +may have me." + +So the ground hog began the last song, and kept it up until the wolves +were many steps away. Just as the signal was given he made a jump for +his hole. + +The wolves turned and were after him. But the ground hog reached his +hole and dived in. He was scarcely inside when the foremost wolf +caught him by the tail and pulled so hard that it broke off. + +And the ground hog's tail has been short ever since. + + + + +THE LUCKY HUNTER + + +Soon after the world was made, a hunter lived with his wife and only +son near a high mountain. No matter when the man went into the woods +he was sure to come back with plenty of meat. And so he went by the +name of the Lucky Hunter. + +The little boy used to play every day by a river not far from the +house. One morning the old people thought they heard laughing and +talking in the bushes as if two children were playing together. + +When the boy came home at night he was asked who had been with him all +day. + +"A wild boy comes out of the water," answered the son. "He says he is +my elder brother." + +The father and mother wished very much to see their son's companion, +but the wild boy always ran into the river when he heard them coming. + +"This must not go on," said the father. + +That night the Lucky Hunter said to his son: "To-morrow when the wild +boy comes to play, ask him to wrestle with you. When you have your +arms around him, you must hold him and call us." + +In this way the wild boy was caught and kept in the house until he was +tamed. He was full of mischief, and he led the smaller boy into all +kinds of trouble. + +One day the wild boy said to his brother: "I wonder where our father +gets all his game. Let's follow him and find out." + +A few days afterward the Lucky Hunter took a bow and some feathers in +his hand and went toward a swamp. After waiting a short time, the boys +followed. + +The old man cut reeds, fitted the feathers to them, and made arrows. + +"What are those things for, I wonder?" said the wild boy. + +When the Lucky Hunter had finished his arrows, he went on over the +low hills and up the mountain. + +Keeping out of sight, the boys watched him. When he was halfway to the +top he stopped and lifted a large rock in the side of the mountain. + +At once a deer ran out. The Lucky Hunter killed it with his first +arrow. Then he carefully replaced the heavy stone and pulled a strong +vine over it to conceal the cracks. + +"Oho," said the boys. "He keeps the deer shut up inside of the +mountain. When he wants meat he lets one out and kills it with the +arrows he made in the swamp." + +They hurried to reach home before their father, who had the heavy deer +to carry. + +A few days later the boys went to the swamp, made arrows, and started +up the mountain. When they came to the hole, they lifted the rock and +a deer came running out. + +Before they could shoot him another came, and another. The boys could +not stop them, and they could not shoot them. + +[Illustration] + +Other animals made a rush for the entrance. There were elk, antelope, +raccoons, wolves, foxes, panthers, and many others. They scattered in +all directions and disappeared in the wilderness. + +Then a great flock of birds came flying out of the hole. There were +turkeys, geese, ducks, quail, eagles, robins, hawks, and owls. + +They darkened the air like a cloud and made such a noise with their +wings that the Lucky Hunter heard them. + +"My bad boys have got into trouble," he cried. "I must go and see what +they are doing." + +So he went up the mountain and found the two boys standing by the +opening. Not an animal nor a bird was to be seen. + +Their father was very angry. Without a word he went into the cave and +kicked off the covers of four jars. Out swarmed wasps, hornets, gnats, +flies, mosquitoes, and all manner of stinging and biting insects and +bugs. + +The boys screamed with pain. They rolled over and over on the ground, +trying to brush off their tormentors. + +Their father looked on until he thought they had been punished enough. +Then he spoke. + +"See what you have done, you rascals. Always before you have had +enough to eat without working for it. Whenever you were hungry, all I +had to do was to come up here and take home anything your mother +wanted to cook. + +"After this when you want a deer to eat, you will have to hunt all +over the woods for it, and then may not find one. + +"Now you may go and take care of yourselves." + +[Illustration] + + + + +HOW SICKNESS CAME + + +In the old days when the beasts, birds, fishes, insects, and plants +could talk, they lived in peace and friendship with the children of men. + +But, as time went on, the people increased in number, and they crowded +the animals out of their homes. + +This was bad enough, but, to make it worse, man invented bows and +arrows, spears, knives, and hooks, and began to kill the animals. + +They were killed for clothing, and they were killed for food, and +still they were patient. But when man began to kill them for sport, +they determined to unite for common safety. + +The bears first met in council with their chief. After each in turn +had complained of the cruel treatment of man, they all declared war +against him. + +Some of the bears proposed to make weapons and use them. But the chief +said: "It is better to trust to the teeth and claws which Nature has +given us." + +As no one could think of other plans, their chief dismissed the +council. The bears returned to the woods, and have done little harm to +man ever since. + +The deer next held a council. They decided that any one who killed a +deer without asking his pardon should be lame with many pains. + +The reptiles and the fish talked the matter over. They agreed to +punish man by making him dream of snakes and of eating raw fish. + +In the last council the birds, rabbits, squirrels, ducks, and the +smaller animals came together. All complained of stolen nests, stones, +and arrows. + +The ground squirrel alone said a good word for man. This made the others +so angry that they fell upon the little animal and tore him with their +claws. You can see the stripes on his back even to this day. + +Then all the squirrels that had lost legs or tail by arrows, all +rabbits running on three legs, all birds that had seen their little +ones die, all wild ducks lamed, and all animals that had ever been +wounded for sport rose up and called for revenge. + +"Let the pains and the trouble that man has sent to us and our +children be sent to him and his children," they demanded. + +"But how can we do this?" asked the others. "We cannot turn man's +weapons against him." + +"Let us send new diseases," proposed a limping fox. + +All rose up with pleasure at this proposal. And they commenced to +invent diseases so fast that they had soon named every kind of +sickness that you ever heard of. Had they thought of many more, no +human beings would now be alive. + +The grubworm, who had been stepped on by man, was so delighted that he +fell over backwards and has had to wriggle on his back ever since. + +But the plants continued friendly to man. When they heard what the +animals had done, they promised to help him and his children forever. + +Every tree and plant, even the grass and the moss, agreed to furnish a +cure for one of the diseases sent by the animals. + +Each said in turn: "I shall help man when he calls on me in his need." + +Thus came medicine. And if we only knew where to look, we might find +among the plants a cure for every kind of sickness. + + + + +HOW SPRING CONQUERED WINTER + + +Far to the North lives the terrible giant, Winter. When he leaves his +home, all people dread his coming. He whistles, and the storms roar +about him. Where he steps, the ground turns to rock and plants bow +their heads to the earth. + +All the animals flee before him and hide in caves and hollow trees. The +children leave their happy play and sit shivering by the wigwam fire. + +One day old Winter looked about him. He saw no life in field or +forest. The wind raged, and the drifts almost hid the lodges of the +Indians. + +"The world is conquered; I am the only king," said giant Winter. He +sat alone in his lodge. The fire was white with ashes, and the tempest +howled. + +A step was heard, and a young warrior entered the lodge. + +He was tall and straight and youthful. + +Old Winter welcomed the stranger. "Sit here on the mat beside me," he +said. "Let us pass the night together. You shall tell me of your +strange adventures, and of the lands in which you have traveled." + +The old man drew his long peace pipe from its pouch. It was made of +red sandstone, and its stem was a smooth reed. He lighted the pipe +from the dying embers and passed it to his guest. + +Long they talked and smoked together, each boasting of his power. + +"When I blow my breath about me," said old Winter, "rivers stop their +flowing, and water turns to stone." + +The young man smiled. "When I blow my breath about me," he replied, "I +free your prisoned waters, and they rush onward to the seas." + +"My power is greater than yours," boasted Winter. "I have only to +shake my long hair and the leaves die on the branches. Plants bow +their heads before me and go back into the earth." + +[Illustration] + +And now the stranger laughed as he boasted of greater power. "When I +shake my curling locks, I call the leaves back on the branches. The +plants come out of the brown earth and bring forth their flowers and +fruit." + +Old Winter frowned. "I speak, and the birds fly away. I command, and +the wild beasts obey me. They hide in caves. They burrow in the +earth. They do not venture to look upon my face!" + +"I call back the birds you have sent away," replied the stranger. +"They hear my voice and return to their nesting places. I speak, and +the beasts leave their shelters and fill the forests and the plains +with life." + +"I am the king," shouted Winter, "for even man obeys me. When I send +the tempest, the mightiest warriors turn and flee. They close the +doors of their lodges, and I imprison them with drifts of snow." + +"I also have power over man," replied the stranger. "My name is +Spring. I melt your snow and open the wigwam doors. All men rejoice, +and they come forth to hunt and feast and dance." + +The night waned, and the sun came from his lodge like a painted +warrior. The air grew warm and pleasant, and the bluebird and the +robin sang on the lodge poles. + +But the giant! What was taking place? He was growing smaller. Now he +was no larger than a common man. His war bonnet was no longer white, +but old and gray, and its feathers were falling one by one. + +Still the giant dwindled. Smaller and smaller he grew. Tears flowed +from his eyes. He vanished from sight, and fled away with a noise like +the rush of waters. Far to the north he flew where the snow never melts. + +Thus did Spring, the beautiful youth, conquer the great and mighty +Winter. + + "Thus it was that in the Northland + Came the Spring with all its splendor, + All its birds and all its blossoms, + All its flowers and leaves and grasses." + + + + +THE GIFT OF CORN + + +A tribe of Indians once lived on the beautiful islands of a large +lake. They were driven from their homes by hostile tribes. Men, women, +and children left everything they owned and paddled their canoes +westward to the mainland. + +But Manabush, the bravest of the warriors, remained behind. It was his +purpose to keep close watch of the enemy, and to send warning in time +to prevent surprise. + +Every day he paddled his birch canoe close to the shore, hiding in +nooks and bays. He had with him two boys, and with their aid the canoe +was hauled every night into the thick woods. + +As they walked, they carefully covered their footprints with sand. + +Each day Manabush thought of his suffering people, whose supplies of +food had been stolen by the enemy. The brave warrior prayed to the +spirits of earth and air, asking that food be given to his tribe. + +One morning Manabush rose early, leaving the two boys asleep. He went +out from the tent and walked in the forest, where he could not be seen. + +Suddenly he came out upon an open plain. Approaching him was a +handsome youth dressed in garments of green and yellow. In his hair he +wore a red plume. + +Truly this stranger must come from skyland, he thought. What answer +does he bring? + +"I am Mondamin," said the strange man. "Your prayers are heard, for +you pray, not for yourself, but for your people. I have come to show +you how by labor and struggle you can gain what you have prayed for. +You must wrestle with me." + +Long they strove together. The man of the red feather was strong and +active, but at last he was thrown to the earth. + +[Illustration] + +"I have thrown you! I have thrown you!" shouted Manabush. + +"You have gained a great gift for your people," said Mondamin, "for I +am the spirit of the corn." + +Even as he spoke, a wonderful change took place. Gone was the man who +had wrestled with such strength. His garments had turned into green +and yellow corn husks, and his body to a ripe red ear of corn. But the +red plume was still waving. + +Again the voice of Mondamin was heard from the ground. "Take from me +my covers. Scatter my kernels over the plain. Break my spine and throw +it all about you. + +"Make the earth soft and light above me. Let no bird disturb me, and +let no weed share my resting place. Watch me till I stand once more +tall and beautiful. Then you shall have food for your people." + +Manabush obeyed all that the voice had commanded. On the way back to +his canoe he killed a deer, but he said no word to his companions of +his strange adventure with the man of the red feather. + +When the new moon hung like a bow in the west, he visited the field +alone. What were the wide grass-like blades making green the plain? +What were the vines that sent their runners all about? + +Carefully he tilled the field. The stems grew strong, and the broad +leaves gleamed in the sunshine. Still he kept the secret, spending +many hours in watching for his enemies. + +When summer drew near its close, Manabush paddled his canoe to the +shore nearest the wrestling ground. He found the corn clad in green +and yellow, with red plumes waving. And great yellow pumpkins were +ripening on the green vines. + +As he picked the ripe red ears he heard a voice from the field, +saying: "Victory has crowned your struggles, O Manabush. The gift of +corn is to your people, and will always be their food." + + + + +THE MAGIC CANOE + + +One night, as Manabush was lying on the ground in the thick woods, he +heard strange voices. "This is no common enemy," he said to himself. +But he lay motionless and listened. + +The evil spirits were plotting to take his life. By his magic power he +was able to defend himself from their attacks, and they slipped away +unseen. + +In the morning he went to the open shore. There he saw a canoe drawn +up on the beach. Coming near, he found a man in the bow and another in +the stern. They had been changed into stone images as a punishment for +their wicked deeds. + +The canoe was the largest and finest that Manabush had ever seen. It +was full of bags of the most beautiful clothing and stores of the +rarest food. + +Manabush carried all the treasures into the wood and concealed them +in a cave. Then he took the magic canoe and hid it among the rocks. + +[Illustration] + +A voice was heard from one of the stone images: "In this way will the +canoes of your people be loaded when they pass again along this coast." + +Manabush returned to his two young companions, bidding them arise and +cook. He showed them the abundance of meat and fish, the bags of maple +sugar and dried berries, and other foods liked by the Indians. + +Then he thought of his aged father and mother, who had fled far from +their homes. Danger seemed past, and he wished them to return and +share his gifts. + +Westward he sailed in the magic canoe. He needed no paddles, for his +wishes guided him, and the boat flew through the water with amazing +speed. + +Before daylight he was at the lodge of his parents. He found them +asleep, and he carried them to his canoe so gently that they did not +awaken. + +When they awoke in the morning, they could hardly believe their eyes. +They had left behind hunger and a barren lodge. They found themselves +in their own country, with abundance all about them. + +Food was placed before them. Then the bags were opened. There were +beaded dresses for the mother and war bonnets for the father. There +were moccasins and warm blankets. There were skins as soft as the +most skilled work could produce. + +Manabush built his parents a lodge near the cornfield and filled it +with every comfort. Then he brought ears of corn and pumpkins and laid +before them. He told them of his wrestling with Mondamin, and he +showed them the field where the corn stood in its garments of green +and yellow, waving its red plumes. + +The secret of the magic canoe, the stone images, and the wonderful +gifts was shared by Manabush with his father and mother. + +When spring returned a large cornfield grew and prospered. The exiled +tribe came back, and from that time they were noted for their fine +crops of maize. + + + + +THE HAPPY HUNTING GROUNDS + + +All who leave the earth must follow the death trail. Each walks +alone--warrior, squaw, or child. All but papoose. The good spirits +carry papoose. + +The trail goes on and on to the place where the sun slips over the +edge of the earth plane. There it comes to a deep, rapid stream, and +the only bridge is a slippery pine log. + +On the other side of the river are six strange beings with rocks in +their hands. These rocks are magic stones which can injure only those +who have done evil, but can never touch nor harm the good. + +When the one who follows the death trail reaches the middle of the +log, he sees the stones come flying toward him. + +If his life has been evil, he tries to dodge; therefore, he slips off +the log and falls into the black, swirling water. + +Sometimes he crawls out of the stream and climbs to the top of the +rocks. But he can never reach the country of the good spirits. + +There is only one trail to the Happy Hunting Grounds, and that is over +the narrow, slippery log. But if the one who is crossing has brought +good to his kinsmen and his tribe, he does not fear. + +He knows that no harm can come from the stones that fly around him, +and so he keeps his footing and walks safely over. + +The trail winds on over high rocks to the beautiful land. No storms +and no winter enter the Happy Hunting Grounds. The sky is always blue, +and the grass never grows dry with heat nor brown with frost. + +The trees are full of birds, the bushes of fruit, and the forests are +alive with game. Feasting and dancing fill the day, and the war cry is +heard no more. + + + + +ABOUT THE BOOK + + + The facts and stories which have made this little book possible + are found in the works of Schoolcraft and in the Government + reports of Ethnology. Especial credit is due to Albert E. Jenks, + author of "The Wild-Rice Indians of the Upper Lakes," and to + James Mooney, who reported for the Government the tribal myths + told by famous Cherokee story-tellers. + + There is evidence that the Indians of early times had regular + trade routes across the continent, north and south, and east and + west. It was the custom of their story-tellers to exchange + stories, and it is therefore possible that some of the myths told + in the south found their way in northern wigwams. The story of + the birds welcoming a papoose, for example, is obtained in part + from the Cherokee collection, and in part from Schoolcraft, who + lived among the Ojibways, or Chippewas as they are often called. + That certain tales are similar to fables of AEsop is explained by + the theory that a primitive people, observing nature, would + originate similar myths. + + The forests where rice grew wild in the shallow water of lakes + and streams, were coveted lands and the cause of many Indian + wars. Here game was abundant, and maple sugar, berries, and nuts + could be obtained in season. + + After years of conflict for the rice lands, peace was made + between the Ojibways of the Great Lakes and the Sioux, or + Dakotahs, farther west. Trade with the whites had begun, but + there were many villages which the white men had never entered, + and where the primitive customs were still unchanged. + + As Hiawatha was not the only Indian who married a Dakotah, it + follows that there were homes where the family life was + influenced by the customs of both tribes. + + The author has endeavored to describe child life in the Wild-Rice + region west of the Great Lakes at this period, and to retell some + of the most interesting stories enjoyed by Indian children. + + The aim of the book is to gratify the American child's natural + interest in primitive life by stories of our own land and to + increase his respect for all that is original and worthy in the + lives of the First Americans. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Two Indian Children of Long Ago, by Frances Taylor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO INDIAN CHILDREN OF LONG AGO *** + +***** This file should be named 31502.txt or 31502.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/5/0/31502/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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