{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_22096/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_22096","id":"gutenberg_22096","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22096","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's Myths, Fairy Tales, etc.","Folklore","Iroquois Indians -- Folklore","Native America"],"text":"Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Janet Blenkinship and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  STORIES\n  THE IROQUOIS\n  TELL THEIR\n  CHILDREN\n\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n\n  MABEL POWERS\n  (YEH SEN NOH WEHS)\n\n\n  AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY\n  NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO\n\n  Copyright, 1917, by\n  MABEL POWERS.\n  _All rights reserved._\n  W. P. 9\n\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n  TO ALL THE CHILDREN WHO ASK\n  HOW AND WHY,\n  ESPECIALLY THOSE RED CHILDREN\n  WHO SEE WITH WONDER EYES,\n  AND THOSE PALEFACE CHILDREN\n  WHO YET BELIEVE IN FAIRIES,\n  THESE STORIES ARE LOVINGLY DEDICATED\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n                                                           PAGE\n\n  ACKNOWLEDGMENT                                              8\n\n  FOREWORD BY THE CHIEFS                                      9\n\n  INTRODUCTORY\n\n  HOW THE STORIES CAME TO BE                                 11\n\n  WHY I WAS CALLED THE STORY-TELLER                          13\n\n  THE LITTLE PEOPLE                                          18\n\n  STORY-TELLING TIME                                         23\n\n  HOW THE IROQUOIS GIVE THANKS                               27\n\n  A FIREMAKER AND A PEACEMAKER                               34\n\n\n  IROQUOIS WONDER STORIES\n\n  HOW THE WHITE MAN CAME                                     45\n\n  WHY THE EAGLE DEFENDS AMERICANS                            49\n\n  HOW THE TURKEY BUZZARD GOT HIS SUIT                        60\n\n  WHY THE PARTRIDGE DRUMS                                    66\n\n  HOW THE INDIANS LEARNED TO HEAL                            69\n\n  WHY DOGS CHASE FOXES                                       75\n\n  WHY HERMIT THRUSH IS SO SHY                                79\n\n  HOW GOOD AND EVIL CAME TO BE                               85\n\n  HOW A BOY WAS CURED OF BOASTING                            90\n\n  WHY THE CUCKOO IS SO LAZY                                  95\n\n  HOW THE COON OUTWITTED THE FOX                             99\n\n  WHY THE GOLDFINCHES LOOK LIKE THE SUN                     103\n\n  WHAT THE ASH AND THE MAPLE LEARNED                        107\n\n  HOW THE WOMAN OVERCAME THE BEAR                           112\n\n  WHY THE WOODPECKER BORES FOR ITS FOOD                     115\n\n  WHY THE ICE ROOF FELL                                     119\n\n  WHY THE CHIPMUNK HAS BLACK STRIPES                        122\n\n  HOW TWO INDIAN BOYS SETTLED A QUARREL                     125\n\n  HOW MICE OVERCAME THE WARRIORS                            130\n\n  WHY CROWS ARE POOR                                        135\n\n  WHY THE INDIAN LOVES HIS DOG                              139\n\n  GREEDY FAWN AND THE PORRIDGE                              145\n\n  WHY HOUNDS OUTRUN OTHER ANIMALS                           152\n\n  WHY INDIANS NEVER SHOOT PIGEONS                           155\n\n  HOW OLD MAN WINTER WAS DRIVEN BACK                        159\n\n  WHY LIGHTNING SOMETIMES STRIKES                           168\n\n  WHY THE HARE HAS A SPLIT LIP AND SHORT TAIL               176\n\n  CORN PLUME AND BEAN MAIDEN                                180\n\n  HOW THE ROBIN BURNED HIS BREAST                           187\n\n\n  IROQUOIS FAIRY STORIES\n\n  HOW MORNING STAR LOST HER FISH                            195\n\n  HOW LITTLE SHOOTER LOST HIS LUCK                          201\n\n  HOW AN INDIAN BOY WON HIS NAME                            205\n\n  HOW THE FAIRIES WORKED MAGIC                              211\n\n\n\n\nACKNOWLEDGMENT\n\n\nIf the Red Children had not welcomed the writer to their lodge fires,\nthese stories the Iroquois tell their children could not have been\nretold. With one or two exceptions, the ideas found in the stories have\nbeen had from the lips of the Indians themselves. To ARTHUR C.\nPARKER--_Ga wa so wa neh_--for his careful review of the stories and\nassistance in securing authentic Iroquois illustrations; and to the\nfollowing story-tellers who so kindly welcomed her to their lodges, and\ntold her stories, the writer is most grateful.\n\n  EDWARD CORNPLANTER (_So son do wah_--\"Great Night\")           Seneca Wolf\n  WILLIAM PATTERSON (_Ga reh hwonts_--\"Power has come down\") Tuscarora Deer\n  MOSES SHONGO (_Ho non da a suh_--\"Keeper of the hills\")       Seneca Wolf\n  CLIFFORD SHONGO (_Ouhn yah dah goh_--\"Very dark blue sky\")    Seneca Wolf\n  CHARLES DOXON (_Hoh squa sa ga dah_--\"Woodsman\")          Onondaga Turtle\n  DANIEL GEORGE (_Jo ha a ga dah_--\"Roadscraper\")              Onondaga Eel\n  MARY PRINTUP (_Wah le sa loh_)                               Mohawk Snipe\n  DAN WILLIAMS\n    (_Oh geh rah u reh ru ha neh_--\"Running Bear\")           Tuscarora Bear\n  ELI HENRY                                                  Tuscarora Deer\n  HARRIETT PEMBLETON (_Gah do rehn tah_--\"Dropping Husks\") Tuscarora Turtle\n  AMOS KILLBUCK\n    (_Har wen do dyoh_--\"He has forsaken early dawn\")           Seneca Wolf\n  ALFRED JIMESON (_Har neh a oh_--\"Hatchet in his hands\")      Seneca Heron\n  WILLIAM HOAG (_O no nah_--\"Very cold\")                        Seneca Wolf\n  ELLEN PIERCE SHONGO (_Yea wen noh aih_--\"The high word\")      Seneca Wolf\n  BAPTIST THOMAS (_Sa ha whe_--\"Long feather\")              Onondaga Turtle\n  ALBERT CUSICK (_Sha go na qua da_--\"Made them mad\")          Onondaga Eel\n  THEODORE JIMESON (_Jah o yah_)                               Seneca Snipe\n  DAVID WARRIOR (_Dwen o gwah_)                          Cayuga White Heron\n  WILLETT JIMESON (_So i as ah_--\"Owner of fine cornstalks\")    Seneca Wolf\n  NANCY GREYSQUIRREL (_Gah gwah tah_--\"One who lifts\")          Seneca Bear\n  EMILY TALLCHIEF (_Gi das was_--\"Wind blowing through corn\") Seneca Turtle\n  LOUISE PIERCE LOGAN (_Ga yah was_--\"The quivering heaven\")    Seneca Wolf\n  THOMAS JONES (_Gah ne yehs_--\"The dropping snow\")             Seneca Wolf\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\n\nOnce our fathers own these lands of New York State. Once the Iroquois\nwere great people. Their council fires burn from Hudson on east to Lake\nErie on west, from rising to setting sun. Then White man come. He ask\nfor small seat size buffalo skin. He take larger and larger one, till\nIndian have but small place to sit.\n\nNow we have little left but stories of our fathers. They, too, will soon\nbe lost and forgotten, but a voice has come to speak for us. _Yeh sen\nnoh wehs_--the one who tells the stories--will carry these stories of\nour fathers to Paleface. She will help White man to understand Indian,\nIndian to be understood. She will have all men brothers.\n\nIndian's heart is glad that _Yeh sen noh wehs_, our white friend, has\ncome to us. She have good eyes. She see right. She like things Indian.\nShe try to preserve them. Our old men and women tell her the stories\ntold them, many, many moons ago, when little children.\n\n_Yeh sen noh wehs_ write down these stories so our children and our\nchildren's children may read and know them; and so Paleface Children may\nlearn them also. Indian tell these stories to his children to make them\ngood and brave and kind and unselfish. May they teach Paleface Children\nhow they should do.\n\nAgain we say, Indian is glad to have some one speak for him. He is glad\nto have some one write down the great and beautiful thoughts in Indian's\nmind and heart. We have spoken. _Na ho._\n\nChief of Seneca Nation,\n\n[Illustration: handwritten signature]\n\nChief of Onondagas,\n\n[Illustration: handwritten signature]\n\nChief of Tuscaroras,\n\n[Illustration: handwritten signature]\n\nChief of Oneidas,\n\n[Illustration: handwritten signature]\n\nChief of Cayugas,\n\n[Illustration: handwritten signature]\n\nChief of Mohawks,\n\n[Illustration: handwritten signature]\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE STORIES CAME TO BE\n\n\nOut of the moons of long ago, these stories have come. Then every tribe\nof the Iroquois had its story-teller.\n\nWhen the Old Man of the North came out of his lodge, and the forests and\nrivers of the Red Children grew white with his breath, these\nstory-tellers wandered from wigwam to wigwam.\n\nSeated on warm skins by the fire, the story-teller would exclaim,\n\"_Hanio_!\" This meant, \"Come, gather round, and I will tell a story.\"\n\nThen all the Red Children would cry, \"_Heh_,\" and draw close to the\nfire. This meant that they were glad to hear the story. And as the\nflames leaped and chased one another along the fire trail, they would\nlisten to these wonder stories of the Little People, of the trees and\nflowers, of birds, of animals, and men. When the story-teller had\nfinished, he said, \"_Na ho_.\" This meant, \"It is the end.\"\n\nThe earth was very young, when the Red Children first learned how\neverything came to be, and just why it is that things are as they are.\nThey told these wonderful things to their children, and their children\nin turn told them to their children; and those children again in turn\ntold them to theirs, that these things might not be forgotten.\n\nNow, but few of the Red Children know these stories that the\ngrandmothers and old men of the tribe used to tell. The story-teller is\nno longer seen wandering from wigwam to wigwam.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY I WAS CALLED THE STORY-TELLER\n\n\nSome time ago the writer of these stories was asked to speak for an\nIndian Society. She accepted the invitation, and that night made her\nfirst Indian friends.\n\nHer new friends told her many beautiful things about the Red Children.\nThe more the writer learned about the Iroquois people, and things\nIndian, the more interested she became. After a time she began to tell\nthe Paleface the things she had learned.\n\nSoon, one of the tribes, the Senecas--the tribe to which her new friends\nbelonged--heard that she was speaking for them. They wished to honor\nher, so they asked her to be present at their Green-Corn Feast, and\nbecome one of them.\n\nSo when the Green-Corn moon hung her horn in the night sky, the writer\nfound the trail to the Land of the Senecas. There the Senecas adopted\nher into the Snipe clan of their nation. She was called _Yeh sen noh\nwehs_--\"One who carries and tells the stories.\"\n\nThus it was that the writer became one of the Red Children, _Yeh sen noh\nwehs_--the Daughter of the Senecas.\n\nThe more _Yeh sen noh wehs_ learned of the Red Children, and their\nsimple stories, the more she loved them. One day, _Yeh sen noh wehs_\nsaid she would be the story-teller not only of the Senecas, but of all\nthe tribes of the Iroquois. There are six great families of this people.\nEach family is called a tribe or nation.\n\nOnce, the council fires of these six nations burned from the Hudson on\nthe east, to Lake Erie on the west, and they were a great and powerful\npeople.\n\nIt was at the time of the Berry Moon that _Yeh sen noh wehs_ hit the\nstory trail. Since then she has journeyed through all the lands of the\nSenecas, the Onondagas, the Cayugas, the Oneidas, the Mohawks, and the\nTuscaroras.\n\nLike the story-teller of old, _Yeh sen noh wehs_ wandered from lodge to\nlodge of the Iroquois. \"_Hanio_,\" she would call, and as the Indians\ngathered round, she would tell them one of the stories that other Indian\nfriends had told to her.\n\nSometimes this would remind the Red Children of another story, which\n_Yeh sen noh wehs_ did not know, and they would tell it to her. It was\nin this way that these stories have been gathered.\n\nThere were many days when _Yeh sen noh wehs_ told her stories, but none\nwere told in return. Few members of the tribes--these usually the\noldest--could remember the stories \"they used to tell.\"\n\nSometimes _Yeh sen noh wehs_ heard a story as she trudged along a\nfurrow, beside a ragged Indian who was plowing with a more\nragged-looking team. Or she would listen as she helped an Indian woman\nprepare the evening meal, pick berries, or gather nuts.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSometimes, as _Yeh sen noh wehs_ sat by a fire down in the depths of a\nbeautiful wood, and watched the smoke of the sacred medicine rise, a\nmedicine man would tell her a story; or an Indian woman would drop a\nword, as she sat at her door weaving baskets or making beadwork.\n\nThese stories _Yeh sen noh wehs_ has made into a story book, that they\nmight not be lost and forgotten; that all the Iroquois Red Children and\ntheir children's children might know and tell them, and that Paleface\nchildren might learn them as well.\n\nThe American children have no fairies of their own. They must borrow\ntheir fairies from children of other nations. _Yeh sen noh wehs_ thought\nit very sad, so she put a magic feather in her cap, and winged moccasins\non her feet. Then she went on the chase for real American wonder\nstories, and for real American fairies.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHad there not been a feather in the magic cap she wore, _Yeh sen noh\nwehs_ would not have found them. But the feather pointed the way to the\nNature Wonder Trail, and there she caught a glimpse of the \"Little\nPeople,\"--the only true American fairies.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE PEOPLE\n\n\nAll children who live close to Mother Earth come to know and to see the\nfairies of the flowers, the woods, the rocks, and the waters.\n\nThese fairies the Iroquois call the _Jo gah oh_, or \"Little People,\"\nbecause they are so small. The Little People can do wonderful things.\nWhatever they wish, they can do. They can fly through the air. They can\ndart under or through the water, into the earth and through the rocks,\nas they please, for they wear invisible moccasins and travel in winged\ncanoes.\n\nTheir wee babies are carried on the little mothers' backs,--just like\nthe Indian's papoose. The little fathers have wonderful winged bows and\narrows, that can shoot any distance they wish.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Little People bring good luck to the Indians. Whatever Indian boys\nand girls wish for,--if they wish hard enough, the _Jo gah oh_ will\nbring to them.\n\nIt is said that there are three tribes of these Little People,--those\nthat live in the rocks beside streams and lakes, those that hover near\nthe flowers and plants, and those that guard the dark places under the\nearth.\n\nThe rock Little People are very strong. They can uproot large trees and\ncan hurl great rocks. Sometimes they dare the Indians to a test of\nstrength with them. They also like to play ball with stones.\n\nThe Red Children fear the Stone Throwers, as they call them. But they\nlove the little folk that help the flowers to blossom, and the fruit and\ngrains to grow and ripen.\n\nThey remember these Little People in their Feasts of Thanksgiving, for\ndo the _Jo gah oh_ not help the sweet waters of the maple to flow? Do\nthey not whisper to the growing seeds and show the way to the light? Do\nthey not guide the runners of the strawberries, turn the blossoms to the\nsun, and paint the berries red? They also tint the grains, and give to\nthe corn its good taste.\n\nA third tribe of Little People dwell under the earth. They guard the\nsacred white buffaloes, and keep the serpent monsters that live in the\ndarkness below from coming to the surface to the Red Children.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThere are trails that lead out to the sunlight, but the Little People\nguard them close, although sometimes a great serpent will find the\ntrail of a spring, and will follow it and poison the waters.\n\nOften, at night, these elves of the dark come to the upper world to\ndance with the other Little People.\n\nWherever you find a tree in a deep, dark part of the wood, around which\nno grass will grow, there you may be sure a dance ring has been formed.\nThere the Little People have danced till the moon dropped out of the\nsky.\n\n[Illustration: DANCE RATTLE]\n\n\n\n\nSTORY-TELLING TIME\n\n\nThe old-time Indians say that long, long ago, the Little People made a\nlaw that stories must not be told in summer.\n\nSummer is the time for work. Bees must store their honey. Squirrels must\ngather their nuts. Men must grow their corn. Trees and plants must leaf,\nand flower, and bear their fruit.\n\nIf stories were told, plants, birds, animals, and men would stop their\nwork to listen. This would mean poor crops and hungry people. Animals\nwould forget to grow their winter coats and lay by their winter stores.\nBirds would fail to start in time for the South.\n\nThe old Indians say that the story-teller who disobeys this law of _Jo\ngah oh_ will suffer some misfortune. Winter is the time to tell the\nstories, for then the work of animals, plants, and men is done,--and the\nLittle People are fast asleep.\n\nNo, it is not safe to tell stories in summer. No one knows when a bird,\nor a bee, or a butterfly may be listening, and may tell the chief of the\nLittle People. Should the chief of the Little People be offended, he\nmight cause something dreadful to happen to the story-teller.\n\nLast summer, the writer of these stories came very near being changed\ninto an animal,--or something worse,--just for telling stories. So an\nold Indian said. She does not know now how she escaped. She thinks it\nmust have been because she was a White Indian. This is how it happened.\n\nIt was at the time of the Harvest Moon. _Yeh sen noh wehs_ spoke for one\nof the tribes at their council house, and she told some of these wonder\nstories.\n\nAll went well until the middle of the night. Then a very old Indian\ncame to warn her of her danger. It seems that he had been at the council\nin the evening, and had heard the stories told, many of which he knew.\n\nHe told _Yeh sen noh wehs_ he had expected to see her change into\nsomething else right then and there. He said he would not dare to tell a\nstory. \"No, no, me 'fraid, evil come!\" he said.\n\nThen he wanted to know if _Yeh sen noh wehs_ was a real Indian. He had\nbeen told that she was a White Indian, but when he heard her tell the\nstories, he said, he thought she was a real Indian.\n\nWhen _Yeh sen noh wehs_ told him that she had not a drop of Indian blood\nrunning in her veins, he looked very solemn. At last he spoke. He told\nthe interpreter to tell her,--for he spoke but a few words of\nEnglish,--that the Great Spirit made a snake, a snake; a fox, a fox; a\nmuskrat, a muskrat; a coon, a coon; a bear, a bear; an Indian, an\nIndian; a White Indian, a White Indian. Each must be snake, fox, coon,\nbear, Indian or White Indian, as long as he lived. Each must be himself.\n\nThen the old man asked what disease _Yeh sen noh wehs_ had, that made\nher go around with a feather in her hair, acting like a real Indian, if\nshe were a White Indian.\n\n_Yeh sen noh wehs_ had no answer. And she does not know to this day,\nwhat saved her from being changed into a rabbit, a katydid, or something\nworse, by the chief of the Little People. She knows, however, that she\nis very glad she is telling the stories to you, in the WINTER time.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE IROQUOIS GIVE THANKS\n\n\nThe Iroquois Red Children are a grateful people. The true Iroquois never\nrises after eating without saying, \"_Niaweh_,\" which means, \"I am\nthankful.\" The others reply, \"_Niuh_,\"--\"It is well.\"\n\nThe Red Children never pick a flower without thinking how kind the Great\nSpirit has been, to cause the flowers to grow. They like flowers, and no\nmatter how poor the Indian cabin, flowers are always to be found near.\n\nWhen the Iroquois pick fruit, they give thanks to the Great Spirit. And\nalways do they leave some, for the \"little brothers of the wood.\"\n\nThey do not try to pick every cherry or berry, or nut or apple, for\nthemselves. Fruits grow for the birds and animals as well as for men,\nand the little brothers of the wood must not be forgotten. Some of\neverything that grows is left for them.\n\n[Illustration: SAP BUCKET]\n\nDuring the spring and summer, the Iroquois give several thanksgiving\nfeasts. The first is early in the spring, at maple-sugar time. As soon\nas the sap begins to flow, the Maple Feast is called.\n\nThe Indians gather about a large maple tree. A fire is lighted near,\nupon which one of their number sprinkles tobacco. As the smoke rises, a\nprayer of thanksgiving is made to the Great Spirit, for causing the\nsweet waters of the maple to flow. Then the maple trees are thanked for\ntheir service to men, and protection is asked for the trees during the\ncoming year.\n\nWhen \"the leaf of the dogwood is the size of a squirrel's ear,\" it is\nplanting time. Then an Indian maid goes into the fields and scatters a\nfew grains of corn, asking the aid of the Great Spirit for the harvest.\nThe Indian always plants his seed with the growing moon, that it may\ngrow with the moon.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe next feast is the Strawberry Feast and Dance.\n\nThe strawberry is one of the best gifts of the Great Spirit to his\nchildren. So greatly is it prized that it is thought to grow on the Sky\nRoad that leads to the Happy Hunting Ground. An Indian who has been very\nill, near death, will say, \"I almost ate strawberries.\"\n\nWhen the strawberry ripens, the Red Children are happy. They sing their\npraises to the Great Spirit and dance with joy. They remember the Little\nPeople who have helped to make the berries beautiful, and they have a\nsong of praise and dance of thanks for them as well. Without the help of\nthe Little People, the strawberries would not be so sweet and ripe.\n\nAt the time of the Harvest Moon comes the last feast of the summer. This\nthanksgiving feast lasts four days. The Indians not only give thanks for\nthe ripening of the corn, but for every growing thing. Therefore this\nfeast is longer than the others, since it takes some time to name all\nthe good gifts of the Great Spirit to the Red Children, and to give\nthanks for them all.\n\nThere is a story[1] of the corn in which the Spirit of the Corn is a\nmaiden, not a handsome young chief, as one of the stories claims. This\nCorn Maiden was one of three sisters, and was called _Ona tah_.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Myths and Legends of the Iroquois_, by Harriet Maxwell\nConverse.]\n\nThe three sister vegetables--the corn, the bean, and the squash--were\ncalled the _Di o he ko_, which means \"those we live on,\" since they are\nthe life-giving vegetables.\n\nThese sisters lived together on a hill and were very happy. But one day\n_Ona tah_ wandered away in search of dews for her kernels.\n\nThe Evil Spirit was watching. He seized _Ona tah_, the Spirit of the\nCorn, and sent one of his monsters to blight her fields. The killing\nwinds swept over the hill, and the spirits of the squash and bean fled\nbefore them.\n\n_Ona tah_ was held for some time a prisoner in the darkness under the\nearth, by the Evil Spirit.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAt last a sun ray found her and guided her back to her lost hilltop.\nThere she found that her sisters had fled. She was alone.\n\nThen _Ona tah_ made a vow to the sun that she would never again leave\nher fields. But she sighs for her lost sisters, and mourns the blight\nthat came upon her beautiful fields. For since the time when _Ona tah_\nwandered away and left her fields, the corn has not grown so tall or so\nbeautiful as once it did.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nA FIREMAKER AND A PEACEMAKER\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn the olden times, tribes of Indians did not always live in one place\nas they do now. They sometimes wandered from one valley or woodland to\nanother. When they came to a sheltered place, where there was pure\nrunning water, and where plenty of game and wood were to be found, they\nwould build their lodges and light their council fires.\n\nThere they might camp for one moon, or for many moons. As long as their\narrows brought game on the hunting trails near, they would not break\ncamp. But if game grew scarce, or if for any reason they did not like\nthe camp ground, they would move farther on.\n\nSometimes they would go several days' journey, before they found a\ncamping place such as they liked.\n\nThe first thing that was done in making a camp was to secure fire and\nlight the council fire. This fire was always kept burning. It never went\nout while they remained.\n\nThe Indians loved the fire. It was the gift of the Great Spirit to the\nRed Children. It kept them warm and cooked their food by day, and\nprotected them by night.\n\nA line of fires was kept burning around the camp. This protected the Red\nChildren from the wild animals, for all animals fear fire, and are\ncharmed by it. They might prowl and howl all night long outside the fire\nring, but never would they attempt to come within that ring. There the\nIndians could sleep in peace, guarded by the spirits of the fire.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Indian that could make fire first became a chief and leader. When it\nwas decided to camp at a certain place, a signal would be given. At this\nthe young braves would leap into the woods, to see which one first could\nbring back fire. Each had his own secret way of making it. Usually a\nbowstring was twisted about a fire stick, and the stick was turned\nrapidly in a groove. In a few seconds, smoke would rise from the sawdust\nthat formed. After a little fanning a flame would leap forth.\n\nThe Indian whose brain and hand worked swiftest and surest was the\nsmartest and best man. He became a Firemaker, and was made a chief of\nthe tribe. He could do something that the rest could not,--at least he\nhad proved himself to be more skillful. Such a man, it was thought, had\na better understanding of all things, and therefore could tell the rest\nof the tribe what ought to be done.\n\nHe no longer was just a man who ate and slept, walked and ran. He was a\nman with a mind. He could think and could do things. So he became a\nFiremaker chief, and he helped the tribe to think and do.\n\nThe Iroquois Red Children believe that there are three kinds of men:\nthose that use the body only; those that use body and mind; and those\nthat use body, mind, and spirit.\n\nNow it happened that sometimes an Indian grew to be so kind and so\ngreat, that he could not only strike the fire we see, but the fire we do\nnot see,--the fire of love that burns in the hearts of people.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen an Indian could strike this kind of fire, and warm the hearts not\nonly of his own tribe but of all tribes, so that they came to love one\nanother, he was a great chief, a Peacemaker chief. Such a man would go\nfrom tribe to tribe, teaching the people how they should do, so that all\nmight live in peace and plenty, like brothers.\n\nTo be a Peacemaker was the highest seat an Indian could take. Few\nIndians became Peacemaker chiefs, and they were the great men of the\ntribe.\n\nIndian women also might become Peacemakers. At one time the Iroquois had\na Peace Wigwam, where all disputes and quarrels were settled.\n\nThe most beautiful, just, and fair-minded woman of all the tribes was\nchosen to sit in this wigwam. It was her duty to tend the Peace fire,\nand to see that it never went out. She also kept a pot of hominy always\nsteaming over the fire.\n\nIf two Indians had a dispute, it was the custom for them to run to the\nPeacemaker's wigwam. They entered from opposite sides. Inside the\nwigwam, a deerskin curtain separated them from each other.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Peacemaker would listen to the grievance of the one and then to that\nof the other. Then she would draw aside the curtain, get the enemies\ntogether, and settle the dispute with justice.\n\nThe two would then eat of the hominy, and depart in peace,--no longer\nenemies, but friends.\n\nNo nation could fight another nation without the consent of the\nPeacemaker. Because the peacewomen were wise, and just, and kind, and\ntaught men to love, not fight each other, the Iroquois were for many\nyears at peace.\n\nBut one day, it is said, a Peacewoman proved untrue to her trust. She\nthought more of her own happiness than that of the nation.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThis woman was very beautiful, and the people loved her. For some time\nshe sat in the Peace Wigwam, and tended faithfully the Peace fire.\n\nOne day an Oneida and a Cayuga chief fell to quarreling. They sought the\nPeace Wigwam. As they entered and saw the young Peacewoman tending the\nfire, each thought he had never seen a woman so beautiful.\n\nInto the heart of each there leaped the desire that she might tend his\nwigwam fire.\n\nThe Peacemaker listened to the quarrel of the young chiefs and settled\nit justly. Then each tried to persuade her to leave the Peace fire and\nreturn with him to his lodge. But the Peacemaker said, \"No, I must tend\nthe fire, it must be kept burning.\" The chiefs departed with heavy\nhearts.\n\nBut the Oneida chief could not forget the beautiful woman. When a moon\nhad passed, he returned to the Peace Wigwam. This time he persuaded the\nPeacemaker to leave her fire and return with him to sit at his wigwam\ndoor.\n\nThe Peace fire flickered and went out. The Iroquois again went on the\nwarpath, and for many, many moons, they fought and suffered and died.\n\n\n\n\nIROQUOIS WONDER STORIES\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE WHITE MAN CAME\n\n\nLong, long before Columbus came to America, the Red Children were here.\nThey were the first and only real Americans.\n\nFrom the Big Sea Water on the east to the Big Sea Water on the west,\nranged these Children of the Sun, as they called themselves.\n\nHappy and free as the sunlight and air about them, they ran through wide\nforests all their own, or plied their bark canoes up and down the\nstreams.\n\nThen the Indian had a dream. This was long before Columbus dreamed his\ndream of the Western World.\n\nIn his dream the Indian saw a great White Bird coming out of the east.\nIts wings were stretched wide to the north and south. With great\nstrength and speed, it swept toward the setting sun.\n\nIn fear and wonder the Indian watched this giant White Bird appear and\ndisappear. He knew its meaning, and the Indian's heart was sad.\n\nThen the White man came. From the Big Sea Water on the east he came, in\nhis great white-winged canoe. With one hand pointing to the Great\nSpirit, and with the other extended to the Red man he came. He asked for\na small seat. A seat the size of a buffalo skin would be quite large\nenough for him, he said.\n\nIn the name of the Great Spirit, the Red Children greeted the White man,\nand called him \"brother.\" They gave him the seat he asked. They gave him\na large buffalo skin also, and showed him where he could spread it by\ntheir council fire.\n\nThe White man took the buffalo skin. He thanked his Red brother in the\nname of the Great Spirit. Then he began to cut the skin into many, many\nsmall strips.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the whole buffalo skin had been cut into narrow strips, he tied the\nstrips together. They made a long cord that would reach over a long\ntrail.\n\nIn amazement the Indians watched the White man while he measured off a\nseat as long and as broad as this cord would reach around. The \"small\nseat,\" the size of a buffalo skin, became a tract of land.\n\nSoon the White man asked for another seat. This time his seat took in\nthe Indians' lodges and camp fire. He asked the Indians if they would\nmove on a few arrow flights. This they did.\n\nThen the White man wanted another seat. Each time it took a larger skin\nfor him to sit upon. This time the skin stretched so far that it covered\na part of the Indians' hunting and fishing grounds.\n\nAgain the Indians moved on. Again the White man followed. Each time his\nseat grew larger, until the Indian had a place but the size of a buffalo\nskin on which to sit.\n\nThus it was that the White man came. Like a great White Bird that swept\nfrom the Big Sea Water on the east to the Big Sea Water on the west, the\nWhite man came; and he drove the Indian from the rising to the setting\nsun.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE EAGLE DEFENDS AMERICANS\n\n\nMany, many moons before the White man came, a little Indian boy was left\nin the woods. It was in the days when animals and men understood each\nother better than they do now.\n\nAn old mother bear found the little Indian boy.\n\nShe felt very sorry for him. She told the little boy not to cry, for she\nwould take him home with her; she had a nice wigwam in the hollow of a\nbig tree.\n\nOld Mother Bear had two cubs of her own, but she had a place between her\ngreat paws for a third. She took the little papoose, and she hugged him\nwarm and close. She fed him as she did her own little cubs.\n\nThe boy grew strong. He was very happy with his adopted mother and\nbrothers. They had a warm lodge in the hollow of the great tree. As\nthey grew older, Mother Bear found for them all the honey and nuts that\nthey could eat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFrom sunrise to sunset, the little Indian boy played with his cub\nbrothers. He did not know that he was different from them. He thought he\nwas a little bear, too. All day long, the boy and the little bears\nplayed and had a good time. They rolled, and tumbled, and wrestled in\nthe forest leaves. They chased one another up and down the bear tree.\n\nSometimes they had a matched game of hug, for every little bear must\nlearn to hug. The one who could hug the longest and the tightest won the\ngame.\n\nOld Mother Bear watched her three dear children at their play. She would\nhave been content and happy, but for one thing. She was afraid some harm\nwould come to the boy. Never could she quite forget the bear hunters.\nSeveral times they had scented her tree, but the wind had thrown them\noff the trail.\n\nOnce, from her bear-tree window, she had thrown out rabbit hairs as she\nsaw them coming. The wind had blown the rabbit hairs toward the hunters.\nAs they fell near the hunters, they had suddenly changed into rabbits\nand the hunters had given chase.\n\nAt another time, Mother Bear tossed some partridge feathers to the wind\nas the hunters drew near her tree. A flock of partridges went whirring\ninto the woods with a great noise, and the hunters ran after them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBut on this day, Mother Bear's heart was heavy. She knew that now the\nbig bear hunters were coming. No rabbits or partridges could lead these\nhunters from the bear trail, for they had dogs with four eyes.\n(Foxhounds have a yellow spot over each eye which makes them seem\ndouble-eyed.) These dogs were never known to miss a bear tree. Sooner or\nlater they would scent it.\n\nMother Bear thought she might be able to save herself and her cubs. But\nwhat would become of the boy? She loved him too well to let the bear\nhunters kill him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nJust then the porcupine, the Chief of the animals, passed by the bear\ntree. Mother Bear saw him. She put her head out the bear-tree window and\ncalled to him. He came and sat under the bear-tree window, and listened\nto Mother Bear's story of her fears for the boy.\n\nWhen she had finished, Chief Porcupine said he would call a council of\nthe animals, and see if they could not save the boy.\n\nNow the Chief had a big voice. As soon as he raised his voice, even the\nanimals away on the longest trails heard. They ran at once and gathered\nunder the council tree. There was a loud roar, and a great flapping of\nwings, for the birds came, too.\n\nChief Porcupine told them about the fears of Mother Bear, and of the\ndanger to the boy.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Chief, \"which one of you will take the boy, and save him\nfrom the bear hunters?\"\n\nIt happened that some animals were present that were jealous of man.\nThese animals had held more than one secret council, to plan how they\ncould do away with him. They said he was becoming too powerful. He knew\nall they knew,--and more.\n\nThe beaver did not like man, because men could build better houses than\nhe.\n\nThe fox said that man had stolen his cunning, and could now outwit him.\n\nThe wolf and the panther objected to man, because he could conceal\nhimself and spring with greater surety than they.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe raccoon said that man was more daring, and could climb higher than\nhe.\n\nThe deer complained that man could outrun him.\n\nSo when Chief Porcupine asked who would take the boy and care for him,\neach of these animals in turn said that he would gladly do so.\n\nMother Bear sat by and listened as each offered to care for the boy. She\ndid not say anything, but she was thinking hard,--for a bear. At last\nshe spoke.\n\nTo the beaver she said, \"You cannot take the boy; you will drown him on\nthe way to your lodge.\"\n\nTo the fox she said, \"You cannot take him; you would teach him to cheat\nand steal, while pretending to be a friend; neither can the wolf or the\npanther have him, for they are counting on having something good to eat.\n\n\"You, deer, lost your upper teeth for eating human flesh. And, too, you\nhave no home, you are a tramp.\n\n\"And you, raccoon, I cannot trust, for you would coax him to climb so\nhigh that he would fall and die.\n\n\"No, none of you can have the boy.\"\n\nNow a great bird that lives in the sky had flown into the council tree,\nwhile the animals were speaking. But they had not seen him.\n\nWhen Mother Bear had spoken, this wise old eagle flew down, and said,\n\"Give the boy to me, Mother Bear. No bird is so swift and strong as the\neagle. I will protect him. On my great wings I will bear him far away\nfrom the bear hunters.\n\n\"I will take him to the wigwam of an Indian friend, where a little\nIndian boy is wanted.\"\n\nMother Bear looked into the eagle's keen eyes. She saw that he could see\nfar.\n\nThen she said, \"Take him, eagle, I trust him to you. I know you will\nprotect the boy.\"\n\nThe eagle spread wide his great wings. Mother Bear placed the boy on his\nback, and away they soared, far from the council woods.\n\nThe eagle left the boy, as he had promised, at the door of a wigwam\nwhere a little Indian boy was wanted.\n\nThis was the first young American to be saved by an American eagle.\n\nThe boy grew to be a noble chief and a great hunter. No hunter could hit\na bear trail so soon as he, for he knew just where and how to find the\nbear trees. But never was he known to cut down a bear tree, or to kill a\nbear.\n\nHowever, many were the wolf, panther, and deerskins that hung in his\nlodge. The hunter's wife sat and made warm coats from the fox and beaver\nskins which the hunter father brought in from the chase. But never was\nthe hunter, his wife, or his children seen to wear a bear-skin coat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE TURKEY BUZZARD GOT HIS SUIT\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIt was a long, long time ago, when the earth was very young. Trees and\nflowers were growing everywhere, but there were no birds. One morning\nthe Great Spirit drew back the blanket from the door of his wigwam in\nthe sky. He looked upon the earth and smiled, for he saw that his work\nwas good.\n\n\"Today,\" thought he, \"I will make big butterflies, to fly in and out\namong the beautiful trees and flowers of the earth. They shall sing as\nthey fly.\"\n\nThen the Great Spirit spoke, and the tree tops were full of birds,--but\nthey had no feathers.\n\nAll day he watched them fly and listened to their songs. But their naked\nbodies and long legs did not please him. Before the sun had set he had\nmade feathered suits, of every size and color, to cover them.\n\nThat night, as the birds hid their heads under their wings, the Great\nSpirit spoke to them. He told about the feathered suits he had made for\nthem, and where these suits could be found.\n\nA council was called next day by the birds. They chose _Gah gah go wah_,\nthe Turkey Buzzard, to get the suits. He could fly over a long trail and\nnot be tired.\n\nThe birds told him that if he would go, he might have the first choice\nof the suits of feathers, but he must try on no suit more than once.\n\nTurkey Buzzard promised and set out toward the setting sun. Twice the\nsun set, and three times it rose, before he found the feathered suits.\nThere were many of them, and they were very beautiful. He could not make\nup his mind which one he would like best to wear.\n\nThen he remembered that he could try on each suit of feathers once. So\nhe began to put them on.\n\nThe feathers of the first suit were too long. They trailed on the ground\nas he walked. Neither could he fly well in them. Turkey Buzzard laid\nthat suit aside.\n\nThe next suit shone like gold. The feathers were a beautiful yellow.\nTurkey Buzzard put it on and strutted up and down the forest.\n\n\"Oh, how handsome I am!\" he said. \"But I must not keep this, for if I\ndid, I should shine so like the face of the Great Spirit, that all the\nother birds would see me.\"\n\nAnd he slipped off the suit of yellow feathers as quickly as possible.\n\nA third suit was of pure white feathers. Turkey Buzzard thought it\nlooked very beautiful. It was a perfect fit.\n\n\"But it will get dirty too soon,\" he said. \"I will not choose this.\"\n\nAnd this, too, was laid aside.\n\nThere were not enough feathers in the fourth suit. Turkey Buzzard\nshivered with cold. It was not warm enough. He would not have it.\n\nThere were too many feathers, and too many pieces, in the fifth suit. It\ntook too much time to put it on. Turkey Buzzard did not want that.\n\nSo he went from one suit to another, trying on and taking off. Always he\nhad some new fault to find. Something was wrong with each one. Nothing\nquite pleased him. No suit was just right.\n\nAt last there was but one suit left. It was not pretty. It was a plain,\ndull color,--and very short of feathers at the neck and head. Turkey\nBuzzard put it on. He did not like it. It did not fit him well: it was\ncut too low in the neck. Turkey Buzzard thought it was the homeliest\nsuit of all. But it was the last suit, so he kept it on.\n\nThen _Gah gah go wah_, the Turkey Buzzard, gathered up the suits and\nflew back to the bird lodge. He still wore the plain, dull-colored suit.\n\nThe birds again called a council. Each was told to select a suit from\nthose that _Gah gah go wah_ had brought, and put it on. This they did.\n\nThen the birds in their beautiful feathered suits began to walk and fly\nabout the Turkey Buzzard, and to make fun of his plain, dull dress.\n\nBut _Gah gah go wah_ held his head high. He walked proudly about among\nthe birds. He looked with scorn on their beautiful suits. After a time\nhe spoke.\n\nHe said, \"_Gah gah go wah_, the Turkey Buzzard, does not want your\nsuits. He had the pick of them all. He likes his own suit best.\"\n\n     Adapted from Erminie Smith's _Myths of the Iroquois_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE PARTRIDGE DRUMS\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIt was after the Great Spirit had made all the beautiful birds, that the\nEvil Spirit came along. He saw the beautiful birds and heard their\nbeautiful songs. He saw that the earth people liked the birds and liked\nto hear them sing.\n\nNow the Evil Spirit did not wish people to be happy, so he said, \"I will\nmake a bird that will make people afraid. I will make a big bird that\nwill not sing, but will make a great noise.\"\n\nSo the Evil Spirit went to work. In a short time he had made a big bird,\nthat could not sing, but could drum.\n\nThe big bird flew away into the wood. That night a drumming noise was\nheard in the wood. The people were afraid. They could not sleep, because\nof the noise.\n\nIn the morning, they went into the woods to search for the noise. Deep\nin the forest could still be heard that strange drumming. They followed\nit, until they came to a deep, dark place in the woods. There was a loud\nfluttering and whirring of wings, and a great bird flew out from among\nthem, along the ground and over the trees.\n\nThe people were afraid. They called to the Great Spirit to help them.\n\nThe Great Spirit was near. He heard their cry, and went after the bird,\nfor he was very angry.\n\nThe Great Spirit said, \"I will not have my people frightened by this\ngreat bird; it shall die.\"\n\nThe big bird gave the Great Spirit a long chase. At last the Great\nSpirit came upon it. He seized it, and threw it against a large tree.\n\nAs the big bird struck the tree, drops of blood flew in all directions.\nThey changed into smaller birds that went whirring into the woods, just\nas the big bird had done. There they began to drum.\n\nLike the big bird, these smaller birds like to startle people. They\nflutter out from under the leaves, and with a whirring noise they fly\nfar into the wood. There they perch on an old log, or a rock, and drum\nwith their wings.\n\nSome of the earth people say they are drumming for their mates. But\nothers still think that the birds drum to make people afraid.\n\nSo this is how the Indians say the partridges came to be. This is why\nthey drum, and why some of the earth children still love to hunt\npartridges.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE INDIANS LEARNED TO HEAL\n\n\nA long, long time ago, some Indians were running along a trail that led\nto an Indian settlement. As they ran, a rabbit jumped from the bushes\nand sat before them.\n\n[Illustration: MEDICINE RATTLE]\n\nThe Indians stopped, for the rabbit still sat up before them and did not\nmove from the trail. They shot their arrows at him, but the arrows came\nback unstained with blood.\n\nA second time they drew their arrows. Now no rabbit was to be seen.\nInstead, an old man stood on the trail. He seemed to be weak and sick.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe old man asked them for food and a place to rest. They would not\nlisten but went on to the settlement.\n\nSlowly the old man followed them, down the trail to the wigwam village.\nIn front of each wigwam, he saw a skin placed on a pole. This he knew\nwas the sign of the clan to which the dwellers in that wigwam belonged.\n\nFirst he stopped at a wigwam where a wolf skin hung. He asked to enter,\nbut they would not let him. They said, \"We want no sick men here.\"\n\nOn he went toward another wigwam. Here a turtle's shell was hanging. But\nthis family would not let him in.\n\nHe tried a wigwam where he saw a beaver skin. He was told to move on.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Indians who lived in a wigwam where a deer skin was seen, were just\nas unkind. Nor was he permitted to enter wigwams where hung hawk, snipe,\nand heron skins.\n\nAt last he came to a wigwam where a bear skin hung.\n\n\"I will ask once more for a place to rest,\" he thought.\n\nAnd here a kind old woman lived. She brought food for him to eat, and\nspread soft skins for him to lie upon.\n\nThe old man thanked her. He said that he was very sick. He told the\nwoman what plants to gather in the wood, to make him well again.\n\nThis she did, and soon he was healed.\n\nA few days later the old man was again taken sick. Again he told the\nwoman what roots and leaves to gather. She did as she was told, and\nsoon he was well.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMany times the old man fell sick. Each time he had a different sickness.\nEach time he told the woman what plants and herbs to find to cure him.\nEach time she remembered what she had been told.\n\nSoon this woman of the Bear clan knew more about healing than all the\nother people.\n\nOne day, the old man told her that the Great Spirit had sent him to\nearth, to teach the Indian people the secrets of healing.\n\n\"I came, sick and hungry, to many a wigwam door. No blanket was drawn\naside for me to pass in. You alone lifted the blanket from your wigwam\ndoor and bade me enter.\n\n\"You are of the Bear clan, therefore all other clans shall come to the\nBear clan for help in sickness.\n\n\"You shall teach all the clans what plants, and roots, and leaves to\ngather, that the sick may be healed.\n\n\"And the Bear shall be the greatest and strongest of the clans.\"\n\nThe Indian woman lifted her face to the Great Spirit to thank him for\nthis great gift and knowledge of healing. When she turned again to the\nman, he had disappeared.\n\nNo one was there, but a rabbit was running swiftly down the trail.\n\n[Illustration: MEDICINE MASK]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY DOGS CHASE FOXES\n\n\nA fox was running through the wood near a river. He had a fish in his\nmouth.\n\nThe fish had been stolen from an Indian who lived down the stream. The\nfox had been passing near the Indian's wigwam. He saw the fish hanging\nby the fire. It was cleaned and ready to cook.\n\n\"What a tasty breakfast!\" thought the fox. \"I think I will watch the man\neat.\"\n\nSoon the Indian went into the wigwam. The fox slipped up to the fire. He\nseized the fish, and ran away with it.\n\nWhen the Indian came back, he had no breakfast. The fish was gone. No\nfox was to be seen.\n\nThe fox ran along, feeling much pleased with himself.\n\n\"What a cunning fox I am,\" he chuckled. \"I will play another foxy trick.\nThis time it shall be on the bear I see coming.\"\n\nHe ran up a tree that had been bent half way to earth by the West Wind.\nThere he began to eat his fish. He smacked his lips so loudly that the\nbear heard him.\n\nThe bear stopped under the tree, and asked, \"What are you eating that\ntastes so good?\"\n\nFor answer the fox threw down a bit of the fish. The bear smacked his\nlips and cried, \"More! More!\"\n\n\"Go to the river, swim out to the big log, and catch your own fish,\"\ncalled the fox. \"It's very easy! Just drop your tail into the water.\nHold it there till a fish comes along and bites, then pull it up. That\nis the way I catch my fish. You can catch all the fish you want with\nyour own tail.\"\n\nThe bear hurried on to the river. He swam to the log and dropped his\ntail into the water, as the fox had advised.\n\nAll day he sat and fished with his tail,--for bears then had very long\ntails.\n\nThe sun set, but no fish had pulled his tail. All night the bear sat on\nthe log and fished. Cold North Wind blew his breath over the water. The\nriver grew still and white.\n\nTowards morning, the bear felt that his tail was getting very heavy. Now\nat last he was sure he had a fish. He tried to pull it up. But alas! his\ntail was frozen fast in the ice.\n\nThen the fox came along. He laughed long and loudly at the bear, and\nasked if the fishing was good.\n\nSome dogs heard the fox, and came tearing through the thick underbrush.\nThey saw the fox and started after him.\n\nThe fox slyly led them on to the frozen river toward the bear. The bear\nsaw them coming, and called to the fox to go around some other way. The\nfox made believe he did not hear, and came straight on to the bear to\nask him what he had said.\n\nThe dogs leaped upon the bear. The bear struggled. He gave one great\npull, and freed himself from the ice. He struck at the dogs so fiercely\nwith his great paws, that they soon left him, and went on after the fox.\n\nDogs have been running after foxes ever since.\n\nWhen the bear got his breath, he stood up and looked around at his tail.\nHe found he had only a small piece left. Most of his tail had been left\nin the ice.\n\nThis is why bears have short tails, and why dogs still love to chase the\nfox.\n\n\n\n\nWHY HERMIT THRUSH IS SO SHY\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSome moons after the council when the birds chose their feathered suits,\na second council was called. The purpose of this council was to see\nwhich bird could fly to heaven, and bring a song to earth.\n\nWhen all the birds had arrived and were perched upon the council tree,\nthe wise old owl spoke.\n\n\"Friends and brothers, listen,\" said the owl. \"Many of you have strong\nwings, but your voices are not beautiful. High, high up in the sky, a\nlong trail beyond the clouds, is the Happy Hunting Ground.\n\n\"There live all our brothers of the wood, whom the Great Spirit has\ncalled. They sing songs more beautiful than any heard on earth.\n\n\"The bird that can fly beyond the clouds will hear that singing. He\nshall bring a song to earth. Who will fly the Great Sky Trail, and bring\na song to earth? Who-whoo! Who-whoo! Who-whoo!\"\n\nAt this, all the birds that were swift of wing flew high in the air.\nThey circled round and round to show their skill. Then they disappeared\nin the clouds.\n\nBut one by one they dropped to earth; for when they had reached the\nGreat Sky Trail beyond the clouds, they were too tired to take it.\n\nAt last the eagle arose and stretched his great wings.\n\n\"Listen,\" he said, \"for the Chief of Birds speaks. No other bird is so\nswift and so strong as the eagle. He has circled the earth. He has flown\nto the rim of the world. The eagle will fly the Great Sky Trail and\nbring the song to earth.\"\n\nA little brown thrush sat near the eagle.\n\n\"Oh,\" he thought, \"how I would like to bring that song to earth!\"\n\nBut he was so small, and his wings were so tired!\n\nThen an idea popped into the little brown head of the thrush. He hopped\nsoftly to the back of the eagle, and hid in the thick feathers near the\nneck. So small and light was the thrush, that the eagle did not feel his\nweight. He did not know that the little brown thrush was on his\nback,--and the other birds did not tell him.\n\nThe eagle spread his great wings. Up, and up, and up, they soared. The\ncouncil wood became a little speck and then was seen no more. Over, and\nunder, and through the clouds, on, and on, and on, they sailed, along\nthe Great Sky Trail.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAt last the eagle's strength began to fail. He could go no further. The\ngreat wings of the chief of birds could beat the air no longer. They\nfell at his side.\n\nThe little brown thrush felt the eagle quiver and begin to drop toward\nthe earth.\n\nThen away flew the little brown thrush. The air was so light it seemed\neasy to fly. On and on he went, for he was not tired. He had had a ride\nalmost to heaven.\n\n\"Now,\" he thought, \"I will go on and will get the song.\"\n\nFor some time, the little brown thrush flew along the Great Sky Trail.\nAll at once the air seemed full of song. He knew he was nearing the\nHappy Hunting Ground.\n\nHe listened. One song seemed more beautiful to him than the rest. Again\nand again he listened. He caught the notes. He sang them many times,\nuntil he was sure that he could carry the song to earth.\n\nThen down, and down, and down, he floated, through clouds and storms and\nsunshine, back to Mother Earth.\n\nVery happy, he flew toward the council wood. He was so full of his\nbeautiful song and the wonderful Sky Trail, he thought he must pour out\nhis song at once.\n\nBut when he reached the council wood, he dared not open his mouth! He\nremembered that he had stolen his ride part way to heaven,--and he knew\nthe other birds knew it.\n\nBut that song! he must sing it! He thought his throat would burst, if he\ndid not sing!\n\nSo the little brown thrush flew off by himself, into a deep, dark part\nof the wood. There, hidden by the brush and the bushes, he poured forth\nthe song he had heard on the Great Sky Trail.\n\nMen hearing it to-day, say, \"Listen, a hermit thrush! What a beautiful\nsong! But he is such a shy bird, one seldom can catch a glimpse of him.\"\n\nThey do not know why he keeps so close under cover.\n\n\n\n\nHOW GOOD AND EVIL CAME TO BE\n\n\nEvery boy has wondered how there came to be two of him.\n\nEvery girl has puzzled over how she happened to be twins. Sometimes she\nis the good girl,--sometimes a naughty one.\n\nThe Indians say this is how it happened.\n\nThe world was very young. There was no earth, only a cloud-like sea.\n\nThe sea was filled with water animals, and water birds flew over it. All\nwas dark. Light had not yet come.\n\nThen the cloud-sea began to call for light. The Great Spirit heard, and\nsaid, \"It shall be so. I will make a new place for man to live in.\"\n\nThe Great Spirit called the beautiful Sky Mother to Him. Her face was\nlike the sun, she was so light of heart.\n\nThe Great Spirit told the Sky Mother to look down. She, too, heard the\ncloud-sea calling, and she said, \"I will go.\"\n\nAs she began to descend, the animals saw her coming. \"See the light,\"\nthey cried. \"Where will it rest?\"\n\nOne of the water animals said, \"I will go to the bottom of the sea and\nget something for it to rest on.\"\n\nHe went down, but he never came back.\n\nOther animals followed him. But they, too, did not come back.\n\nThen the muskrat said, \"I will go. I will be the earth bringer.\"\n\nHe returned, with some mud in his mouth and claws.\n\n\"It will grow fast,\" he cried, in a weak voice. \"Who will carry it?\"\n\nThe turtle offered his back. As the muskrat placed the mud on the\nturtle's shell he died. But the beaver came and slapped the mud down\nwith his tail.\n\nThe mud on the turtle's back grew very fast. Soon it was a small island.\nThe turtle became the earth bearer. He has continued to hold up the\nearth ever since.\n\nNow, when the sea rises in great waves, or the earth shakes, the Indians\nsay, \"The turtle is stretching. He is wiggling his back!\"\n\nNow, since there was a place for the light to rest on, the birds flew up\nto meet it. They found that the light was the beautiful Sky Mother.\n\nThen the birds spread wide their great wings, and bore the Sky Mother\nthrough the air to the cloud-sea. They placed her on the island on the\nturtle's back. There the Sky Mother had rested some time, when she felt\nsomething stirring beneath her heart. She heard voices. One was soft and\nkind and full of love, the other was harsh and quarrelsome.\n\nSoon the Sky Mother looked into the faces of the first-born of earth,\nfor she had borne the twin brothers, the spirits of Good and Evil. As\nshe looked into the face of the Good Mind, she said, \"You shall be\ncalled the Light One.\"\n\nThen she looked into the face of his brother, and said, \"You shall be\nnamed the Dark One.\"\n\nThe island became a beautiful land.\n\nThe twin brother Light One grew up happy, loving, peaceful, and kind. He\nwanted to make the new land the most beautiful place in which to live.\nThe twin brother Dark One grew up sullen, quarrelsome, hateful, and\nunkind. He tried to make the land the worst place in which to live.\n\nFrom his mother's beautiful face the Light One made the sun. He set it\nin the eastern sky, that it might shine forever. Then the Dark One put\ndarkness in the west to drive the sun from the sky.\n\nThe Light One gave his mother's body to the earth, the Great Mother from\nwhich springs all life. He made great mountains, and covered them with\nforests from which beautiful rivers ran. The Dark One threw down the\nmountains, gnarled the forests, and bent the rivers which his brother\nhad made.\n\nEvery beautiful thing which the good brother Light One made, the bad\nbrother Dark One tried to destroy and ruin.\n\nAnd because the first-born of earth were the twin spirits, the Good Mind\nand the Evil Mind, there has been a good and bad spirit born into every\nboy and girl who has come into the world since.\n\nSo the Indians say!\n\n\n\n\nHOW A BOY WAS CURED OF BOASTING\n\n\nThere was once an Indian boy, who thought he knew more and could do more\nthan anyone else. He was so proud of himself that he walked around like\na great chief, who wears a war shirt with many scalp locks on it.\n\nThe other Indian boys and girls called him Spread Feather, because he\nstrutted about like a big turkey or a peacock.\n\nOne day, Spread Feather was playing ball with the other boys. Not once\nhad he failed to drive or catch the ball with his crosse stick. Twice he\nhad thrown the ball with such force that some one had been hurt.\n\nSpread Feather grew more and more pleased with himself, as he played. He\nbegan to use tricks and to talk very large.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"No one can play ball as I,\" he said. \"I can catch the swiftest ball\nthat can be thrown. I can throw the ball to the sky. I can run faster\nthan the deer.\"\n\nSpread Feather boasted so loudly that a rabbit heard him. The rabbit\ncame out of the bushes and sat up on his hind legs. He watched Spread\nFeather play, and listened to his boasting.\n\nSoon a strange boy was standing where the rabbit had sat.\n\nThe stranger said to Spread Feather, \"I would like to play ball with\nyou.\"\n\n\"Come on, then!\" taunted the boastful boy. \"Spread Feather will show the\nstrange ball player how to catch a ball.\"\n\nThey began to play.\n\nThe stranger could run like a deer. His balls were so swift and so\ncurved that Spread Feather could not see them. He could not catch one.\nThey seemed to come from the sky.\n\nAt last one ball hit Spread Feather on the mouth. He fell to the ground.\nHis face was red with anger, and his lips were red with blood.\n\nHe sprang to his feet and shouted to the stranger, \"Though I do not like\nthe taste of your ball, yet I can throw you.\"\n\n\"Very well, then,\" said the stranger. \"We will have a game of 'Catch as\ncatch can.'\" This is the Indian name for a game of wrestling.\n\nSpread Feather set his feet very hard on the ground.\n\n\"My legs are as strong as the legs of a bear,\" he boasted.\n\nThey began to wrestle. Soon Spread Feather's arms fell at his sides. He\npanted for air. He had no breath and no strength.\n\nThe stranger picked Spread Feather up and tossed him over his head like\na ball. The boy fell without a word.\n\nWhen Spread Feather opened his eyes, a rabbit sprang into the bushes.\n\nAll night, Spread Feather lay and thought, and thought. He was too weak\nand too sore to go back to his wigwam. Nor was he eager to meet the\nother boys.\n\nAt sunrise a rabbit hopped near. The rabbit slyly suggested that he\nmight like to play another game of ball.\n\nThe boy sat up and said to the rabbit, \"Spread Feather is no more. He no\nlonger struts like a turkey. He has nothing to say. He will win a new\nname. It will not be Spread Feather.\"\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE CUCKOO IS SO LAZY\n\n\nThe land was lean and hungry. The Old Man of the North Lodge had\nbreathed upon the valley. His breath had frozen the corn, and there was\nno bread for the people.\n\nThe Indian hunters took to the chase. They followed every track of deer\nor rabbit. If their arrows brought them meat, they threw it over their\nshoulders and ran to the village, that the hungry women and children\nmight eat.\n\nBut one Indian remained in his wigwam. He sat by the fire with his wife\nand child, and waited for the hunters to bring game.\n\nThis man refused to go on the hunt. He was lazy. All day he sat by the\nfire and smoked his pipe. Once in a while, he would stir the water in\nthe kettle which he kept boiling for the meat that he hoped the hunters\nmight bring. Whenever the child, his little son, begged him for food, he\nwould say, \"It isn't done yet.\"\n\nAt last the little Indian boy grew so sick and faint for want of food\nthat he cried aloud.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe lazy Indian father was angry. He seized the pudding stick, and\nstruck the child to the ground. Instantly a bird flew up and perched on\nthe pole over the fire, from which the kettle hung.\n\n\"Now it's done!\" said the bird solemnly, for it did not seem to have a\nlight heart like other birds.\n\nNow, strange as it may seem this father was no longer cruel and lazy.\nHis lazy spirit seemed to have gone. He wanted to go at once on the\nchase, and hunt food for his wife and little boy.\n\n\"To-night you shall have deer meat to eat,\" he said, as he spread a soft\nskin by the fire, for the boy to lie on. Then he turned to place the\nchild on the skin,--but no boy was there. He had no son. Only that\nstrange bird perched, joyless and alone, over the fire, on the pole from\nwhich the kettle hung.\n\n\"Now it's done!\" the bird cried again, and with that it flew out of the\nwigwam.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThat spring the Indians discovered a new bird in the woods. The bird was\ntoo lazy to build a real nest.\n\nThis bird did not weave together twigs and moss, leaves and ferns, bits\nof hair and thistledown, to make a cozy, warm, safe nest for its eggs\nand young, as did the other birds. This bird would lay its eggs\nanywhere. Wherever a few sticks lay crosswise in a track, or in a little\nhollow of the ground, or where some twigs or dried ferns were caught\nloosely in a bush, there this lazy bird would lay its eggs and rear its\nyoung.\n\nIt was too lazy to build a real nest, that was safe and warm for its\nlittle ones.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Indians called the bird \"the cuckoo.\" But only one Indian knew how\nthe cuckoo came to be, and why it is too lazy to build a real nest.\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE COON OUTWITTED THE FOX\n\n\nA wise old raccoon sat up in a tree near the river where the bear lost\nhis tail. The coon saw the fox play his foxy trick on the bear, and he\ndid not like it.\n\n\"The fox is getting a big head,\" said the coon. \"This must not be. His\nhead must be made smaller. Some of the foxiness must be taken out of it.\nHe is getting too foxy. He thinks he has the cunning of all the animals,\nand that no one can outwit him. Some one must play a 'fox' trick on\nhim.\"\n\nNot many days later, the coon saw the fox coming down the trail. The\ncoon was eating some juicy yellow apples that he had found on a tree not\nfar away. As soon as he saw the fox, he ran up a tree, and began to\nsmack his lips as the fox had done to tempt the bear.\n\nThe fox stopped under the tree, just as the bear had stopped.\n\n\"What tastes so good?\" he asked.\n\nFor answer the coon threw down an apple to the fox, just as the fox had\nthrown the piece of fish down to the bear.\n\nThe fox took the apple and ate it.\n\n\"Fine! Fine!\" said the fox, when he had finished the last mouthful.\n\"Where did you get it?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe coon then told the fox how to find the apple tree. He must follow\nthe trail along the river, down to the pine bluff. Then he must climb\nthe bluff and run toward the setting sun, until he came to an open\nfield. In the center of that field stood a great apple tree. It was\nfilled with juicy yellow apples.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"But you can climb the tree and pick your own apples. How can I get them\noff the tree?\" whined the fox.\n\n\"Oh, that's easy,\" said the coon. \"Just back off two bow shots from the\ntree, then lower your head,--so. Run hard and butt the tree with your\nhead. You have such a big head, it will shake the tree so hard that all\nthe apples will fall at once. Do as I tell you, and you will have all\nthe apples you want for a long time.\"\n\nThe fox thanked the coon and started at once.\n\nHe found the apple tree, just as the coon had said.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"What a fine open place to run in,\" thought the fox. \"I will get such a\nfine start that when I hit the tree it will shake the world.\"\n\nAlready he began, in his mind, to see the apples falling, like pine\nneedles, and to feel the earth shake under his feet.\n\nThe fox did as the coon had told him. One arrow flight he backed off,\nthen another. Then he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and ran swiftly\nover the thick grass. He struck the tree as hard as ever he could, with\nhis big head.\n\nNot an apple fell, but a dazed, foolish-looking fox fell to the ground.\n\nNext morning as the sun rose, a shame-faced fox was seen running toward\nthe woods beyond the pine bluff. He carried his head low, and he seemed\nto be playing no foxy tricks.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE GOLDFINCHES LOOK LIKE THE SUN\n\n\nIt was some moons after the coon outwitted the fox, before they again\nmet. The coon was hurrying by, when the fox saw him.\n\nNow the fox had not forgotten the trick the coon had played on him. His\nhead was still sore from that great thump against the apple tree. So the\nfox started after the coon. He was gaining, and would have caught him,\nhad they not come to a tall pine tree.\n\nThe coon ran to the very tiptop of the pine tree. There he was safe, for\nthe fox could not climb.\n\nThe fox lay down on the soft pine needles and waited for the coon to\ncome down. The coon stayed up in the pine tree so long that the fox grew\ntired and sleepy. He closed his eyes and thought he would take a short\nnap.\n\nThe coon watched, until he saw that the fox was sound asleep. Then he\ntook in his mouth some of the pitch from the pine tree. He ran down the\ntree and rubbed the pitch over the eyes of the sleeping fox.\n\nThe fox awoke. He sprang up and tried to seize the coon, but, alas! he\ncould not see what he was doing. The lids of his eyes were held fast\nwith the pine gum. He could not open them.\n\nThe coon laughed at the fox's plight, then ran and left him.\n\nThe fox lay for some time under the tree. The pine gum, as it dried,\nheld the lids of his eyes closer and closer shut. He thought he should\nnever again see the sun.\n\nSome birds were singing near by. He called them, and told them of his\nplight. He asked if they would be so kind as to pick open his eyes.\n\nThe birds flew off and told the other birds. Soon many of the little\ndark songsters flew back to where the fox lay. Then peck, peck, peck,\nwent the little bills on the eyelids of the fox. Bit by bit they\ncarefully pecked away the pine gum. If one grew tired, another bird\nwould take its place.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAt last the fox saw a streak of light. Soon the lid of one eye flew\nopen, then the other. The sun was shining, and the world looked very\nbeautiful to the fox, as he opened his eyes.\n\nHe was very grateful to the little birds for bringing him light. He told\nthem to ask what they would, and he would give it to them.\n\nThe little birds said, \"We do not like the plain, dark suits which the\nTurkey Buzzard brought us. Make us look like the sun we have brought to\nyou.\"\n\nThe fox looked about him. Beautiful yellow flowers were growing near. He\npressed some of the sun color from them, and with the tip of his tail as\na brush, he began to paint the dark little birds like the sun.\n\nThe birds fluttered so with joy, he thought he would paint the bodies\nfirst. Before he could brush the wings and tails with the sun paint,\neach little bird had darted away, like a streak of sunshine. So happy\nand light of heart were the birds, that they could not wait for the fox\nto finish the painting.\n\nThis is why goldfinches are yellow like the sun. It is why they have\nblack wings and tails, why they flutter so with joy, and why they never\nfinish their song.\n\n\n\n\nWHAT THE ASH AND THE MAPLE LEARNED\n\n\nLong ago, birds, trees, animals, and men knew each the language of the\nother, and all could talk together.\n\nIn those days, the trees of the forest grew very large and strong. At\nlast they came to know their strength too well. They became selfish, and\nproud, and quarrelsome. Each tree boasted that he was the greatest and\nstrongest. Each one struggled to gain for himself the most earth, the\nbest air, the brightest sun. No tree had a thought for the other.\n\nOne day the trunk of a great Maple tried to crowd out an Ash. The Ash,\nof course, thought he had as much right to stand there as the Maple, and\nhe said he would not stir a limb.\n\n\"Get out of my way,\" cried the Maple. \"I am greater than you, and of\nmore use to man; for I furnish the sweet water for him to drink.\"\n\n\"Indeed, I will not!\" said the Ash. \"I am greater than you, and of more\nuse to man than you; for I furnish the tough wood from which he makes\nhis bow.\"\n\nAt this the trees fell to wrestling. Back and forth, in and out they\nswayed, each trying to throw the other. They forgot that they were\nbrothers in the wood.\n\nThen the South Wind came along. He heard the loud voices and stopped to\nfind out what the quarrel was about.\n\n\"I am greater than you, for I furnish the sweet water for man to drink,\"\ncame the angry voice of the Maple, as he threw his huge trunk against\nthe Ash.\n\n\"No, you are not,\" retorted the Ash, and he sent the Maple back with a\ngreat push of his strong elbow. \"I am greater than you, for I furnish\nthe tough wood from which he makes his bow.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFor a time, the South Wind watched them writhe and twist and try to\nthrow each other to the ground. Then he said, softly, \"You, O Maple, do\nnot cause the sweet water to flow for man; nor do you, O Ash, make your\nwood to grow pliant and tough for his bow.\"\n\n\"Who does, then?\" they asked defiantly.\n\n\"Listen,\" said the South Wind, \"and you shall hear.\"\n\nThen the Maple and Ash forgot their quarrel. They bent their heads so\nlow and close to listen, that an arm of the Maple slipped through an arm\nof the Ash.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAnd as they stood thus listening, each with an arm locked in an arm of\nthe other, the South Wind gently swayed them to and fro. Then a voice\nwas heard, singing, \"_San noh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!_\" which\nmeans, \"The Mother of all things.\"\n\nThus it was that the Ash and the Maple learned that it was Mother Earth\nwho gave them their life, and power, and strength, and that they were\nbrothers, because they had one Mother.\n\nThe Ash and the Maple whispered the secret to the birds. The birds came\nand listened to the voice, and went and told the animals. The animals\ncame and listened, and went and told men. And thus all the earth\nchildren learned that there is one Great Mother of every living thing,\nand that all are brothers.\n\nAnd now, whenever two trees lock arms lovingly, and the South Wind sways\nthem gently to and fro, that same voice may be heard, singing, \"_San\nnoh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!_\"\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE WOMAN OVERCAME THE BEAR\n\n\nAn Indian woman built a wigwam in the deep wood. She was a brave woman.\nShe had no fear.\n\nOne night, she heard something coming along the trail. Thump, thump,\nthump, it came, to the very door of her wigwam.\n\nThere was a rap.\n\n\"Come in,\" said the woman, but no one entered.\n\nAgain there came a rap.\n\nAgain the woman called, \"Come in.\" Again the latch was not lifted.\n\nA third time the rap came. A third time the woman called, \"Come in,\" but\nno one entered.\n\nThen the strange thump, thump, thump, was heard going down the trail.\n\nThe next night, the same thing occurred. Soon after dark, the woman\nheard the thump, thump, thump, coming along the trail. Up to the very\ndoor of the wigwam it came.\n\nThree times, a rap, rap, rap, was heard as before. Three times the woman\nanswered, \"Come in,\" but no one entered.\n\nThen the same strange thump, thump, thump, was heard going down the\ntrail again.\n\nThe third night, the woman thought she would make sure who was calling.\nShe stood for a long time, with her hand on the latch.\n\nAt last she heard the visitor coming. Thump, thump, thump, it came along\nthe trail. There were three raps.\n\n\"Come in,\" called the woman, but the latch did not move in her hand. She\nwaited. Again came the raps.\n\nThis time she threw wide open the door, and there stood a great black\nbear. He showed his sharp teeth and growled, \"Are you at home?\"\n\nThe woman looked him straight in the eye and replied, \"I am at home.\"\n\nAt once the bear turned on his heel and went down the trail, as fast as\nhe could go.\n\nNever again did the woman hear that strange thump, thump, thump; and\nnever again did the bear call to see if she were at home.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE WOODPECKER BORES FOR ITS FOOD\n\n\nOnce upon a time, the Great Spirit left the Happy Hunting Ground and\ncame to earth. He took the form of a poor, hungry man. He went from\nwigwam to wigwam, asking for food.\n\nSometimes he found the Indians sitting around the fire, telling stories\nand talking of the Great Spirit. Then the man would pass by unseen.\n\nOne day, he came to a wigwam in which a woman was baking cakes.\n\n\"I am very hungry,\" the man said. \"Will you please give me a cake?\"\n\nThe woman looked at the man, and then at the cake. She saw that it was\ntoo large to give away.\n\nShe said, \"I will not give you this cake, but I will bake you one, if\nyou will wait.\"\n\nThe hungry man said, \"I will wait.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen the woman took a small piece of dough and made it into a cake and\nbaked it. But when she took this cake from the coals, it was larger than\nthe first.\n\nAgain the woman looked at her cake. Again she saw it was too large to\ngive away. Again she said, \"I will not give you this one, but I will\nbake you one, if you will wait.\"\n\nAgain the man said, \"I will wait.\"\n\nThis time the woman took a very, very, tiny bit of dough, and made it\ninto a cake.\n\n\"Surely, this will be small enough to give away,\" she thought, yet when\nbaked it was larger than both the others.\n\nThe woman stood and looked at the three cakes. Each was too large to\ngive away.\n\n\"I will not give you any of the cakes,\" she said to the man. \"Go to the\nwoods, and find your food in the bark of trees.\"\n\nThen the man stood up and threw off his ragged blanket and worn\nmoccasins. His face shone like the sun, and he was very beautiful. The\nwoman shrank into the shadow of the wigwam. She could not look upon his\nface, for the light.\n\n\"I am the Great Spirit,\" said he, \"and you are a selfish woman. Women\nshould be kind, and generous, and unselfish. You shall no longer be a\nwoman and live in a warm wigwam, with plenty of cakes to bake. _You_\nshall go to the forest and hunt _your_ food in the bark of trees. Summer\nand winter, you shall eat worms of the same size as the cake you would\nhave made for me.\"\n\nThe woman began to grow smaller and smaller. Feathers grew upon her\nbody, and wings sprang from it. The Great Spirit touched her head, and\nit became red.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Always shall you wear this red hood,\" he said, \"as a mark of your\nshame. Always shall you hide from man. Always shall you hunt for little\nworms, the size of the cake you made for me.\"\n\nAt this a sharp cry was heard, and a bird flew into the fireplace of the\nwigwam, and up the chimney. As it passed out of the chimney, the soot\nleft those long streaks of black which we see now on the woodpecker's\nback.\n\nEver since then, this woodpecker has had a red head, and has been hiding\nfrom man on the farther side of the tree trunk, and boring in the bark\nfor _little_ worms.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE ICE ROOF FELL\n\n\nA great many winters ago, there lived at the foot of a certain lake a\ntribe of wicked Indians. These Indians were so fierce, and warlike, and\nwasteful, they went about destroying everything.\n\nThey laid low a tract of beautiful forest trees, for no good purpose.\nThey tore up shrubs and plants that gave them food and medicine. They\nshot their arrows into every bird or animal they saw, just for sport.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe great trees--their silent brothers of the wood--trembled and sighed\nwhen they heard these Indians coming. The squirrels darted into hollow\ntrees, and birds flew in alarm at their footsteps. The deer and rabbit\nran from the trail.\n\nAt last the Great Spirit became very angry with this tribe. Always he\nhad taught the Indians never to kill an animal, unless for food and\nprotection; never to fell a tree, unless for fuel or shelter; never to\ndig up shrubs or plants, unless for some good use.\n\n\"All life,\" the Great Spirit had said, \"is sacred and beautiful. It must\nnot be wasted.\"\n\nAnd never before had he known the Indians to waste the beautiful living\nthings about them. The Great Spirit was very sad.\n\nThe ice formed very thick on the lake that winter.\n\nOne night, there came a great storm of wind and rain. The ice broke\nloose from the shores, and the wind blew it down the lake. At the foot\nof the lake, a mass of ice was piled high over the shore, where lived\nthese wasteful Indians.\n\nLike a giant roof, the ice spread over the little Indian village lying\nthere asleep, but the Indians did not know. They slept on, unaware of\ntheir danger, for a deep, heavy sleep had come upon them.\n\nJust as the sun rose, the ice roof gave way and fell upon the sleeping\nIndians, crushing them in their wigwams.\n\nThe waste they had brought upon their brothers of the wood had brought\npunishment upon them. The Great Spirit had destroyed these wicked\nIndians, that the good Indians might keep his world beautiful.\n\nEver after, as long as the Indians occupied the country, before the\nWhite man came, no trees were felled, and no animals or birds were\nkilled, unless for some wise and useful purpose.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE CHIPMUNK HAS BLACK STRIPES\n\n\nAt one time, the animals had tribes and chiefs, like men. It was when\nthe porcupine was chief, that a council was called.\n\nA great fire was lighted, for it was night. When all the animals were\nseated around the fire, the porcupine spoke.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Friends,\" he said, \"we have met here to settle a great question: 'Shall\nwe have night all the time, or day?'\" At this, all the animals began to\ntalk at once. There was great confusion. The night animals kept\nshouting, \"Night, night! Always night!\" Others of the animals cried,\n\"Day, day! Always day!\" Still others called for \"Day and night!\"\n\nThere was so much noise that it could not be decided what was best.\n\nAt last the animals grew tired of calling. One by one the voices grew\nfainter, and the shouting ceased. Of the night animals, the voice of the\nbear alone was heard. He had a big voice and still kept calling, \"Night,\nnight! Always night!\"\n\nThe animals who wanted day all the time, and those who wanted day and\nnight, also became quiet,--all except the chipmunk. He chattered on, \"We\nwill have light--and then night. We will have light--and then night.\nChee, chee, chee!\"\n\nThen the bear, too, became tired. He was fat and lazy, and so sleepy! He\nthought he would take a short nap.\n\nBut all night long the wide-awake little chipmunk kept up his song. Not\nfor a moment did he stop to rest. Out of the dark came his voice, sure\nand cheery, \"We will have light--and then night. We will have\nlight--and then night! Chee, chee, chee!\"\n\nAnd before the animals knew it, the sun began to rise.\n\nAt the first rays of light, the bear sat up, blinked, and rubbed his\neyes. He saw that while he had slept, light had indeed come. He knew\nthat he and the night animals had been beaten in the council, and that\nthe chipmunk and the animals who wanted day and night had won.\n\nThe bear was very angry. He struck at the chipmunk with his paw. But he\nwas clumsy, and the chipmunk was spry!\n\nThe chipmunk laughed and sprang into a hole of a hollow tree near by.\nBut those black stripes on the chipmunk's back show where the paw of the\nblack bear touched him as he slipped into the tree.\n\nEver since this council, and the little chipmunk called so long and loud\nfor \"light and night,\" we have had day and night.\n\n\n\n\nHOW TWO INDIAN BOYS SETTLED A QUARREL\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFlying Squirrel and Lightning Bow were two little Indian boys. They\nlived by Singing River, and they played from sunrise to sunset. They\nwere as happy as the day was long.\n\nIn the summer, they fished and swam in Singing River, and they shot\ntheir arrows into chipmunk and woodpecker holes. Sometimes they played\n\"Dodging Arrows,\" a game their mother had taught them when they were\nvery young.\n\nIn the winter, they jumped into fleecy snowdrifts and rolled until their\nlittle bronze bodies took on a red-raspberry tint. Then they would send\ntheir snow-snakes skimming over the hard crust of snow.\n\nSnow-snakes were small rods of wood, polished smooth with resin, oil, or\nwax. They could be thrown long distances. Long Moose--Lightning Bow and\nFlying Squirrel's father--could throw a snow-snake a mile and a half,\nover the crust of the snow. But the snow-snakes he used were eight feet\nlong and tipped with lead.\n\nIt was the Moon of Berries. Six times had Flying Squirrel and Lightning\nBow seen the Berry Moon hang her horn in the night sky. And not once in\nall their lives had they quarreled.\n\nOne morning, Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow planned a foot race.\nSeven times they were to run. Three times, Flying Squirrel had made the\ngoal first. Three times, Lightning Bow had outrun him. The seventh race\nwas claimed by each. No one saw them run, so no one could decide the\ngame. And they fell to quarreling.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nLouder and louder their voices were raised. More and more angry they\ngrew.\n\nWhite Fawn, their mother, was baking corn bread on the coals of the\nwigwam fire. The angry voices reached her ears. She stepped to the door.\n\n\"For shame!\" she called. \"Go and set up your sticks.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen she showed Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel how to set up three\nsticks so they would stand for many days.\n\n\"Now go into the wood, set up your sticks, and leave your quarrel\nthere,\" she said. \"When the Berry Moon has passed, you shall return and\nsee if the sticks are still standing.\n\n\"If they lean toward the rising sun, Lightning Bow was right. If they\nlean toward the setting sun, Flying Squirrel won. If they have fallen\ndown, neither was right and neither won.\"\n\nLightning Bow and Flying Squirrel went into the wood and set up their\nsticks. Then they began to throw balls with willow wands, and soon they\nwere happy again.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe sun had risen and set many times. The Berry Moon had passed. It was\nthe Thunder Moon, when White Fawn said to Lightning Bow and Flying\nSquirrel, \"Today you may go into the wood and see if your sticks are\nstill standing.\"\n\nHand in hand, the two little Indian boys ran into the wood. They found\nonly a heap of rotting sticks.\n\nFlying Squirrel and Lightning Bow stood and looked at the sticks. They\nthought and thought.\n\n\"What did we set up the sticks for?\" each asked of the other.\n\nAnd for the life of them they could not remember what they had quarreled\nabout, and why they had set up the sticks!\n\n\n\n\nHOW MICE OVERCAME THE WARRIORS\n\n\nOnce a tribe of the Iroquois became very warlike and cruel. They liked\nto follow the warpath rather than the hunting trails.\n\nThese warriors thought only of the war dance. They forgot to give thanks\nfor the sweet waters of the maple, and for the planting season. Neither\ndid they remember to praise the Great Spirit, in song and dance, for the\njuicy strawberries, and the waving green corn, as once they had done.\n\nTo fight was the one desire of their lives, the one thought that filled\ntheir minds. They boasted that none were so fierce and bloodthirsty as\nthey.\n\n\"Our arrows fall like leaves of the pine,\" they said, \"and always are\nthey red with blood. Our war shirts have many scalp locks on them.\"\n\nOne day, a dispute arose with a neighboring tribe of their nation. The\nPeace Wigwam was not far away, but these warriors would not take their\nquarrel to it, as was the custom. The fighting Indians would have none\nof the Peace Wigwam.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Let the women and papooses sit in the sun at the door of the Peace\nWigwam,\" they said scornfully. \"Chiefs are for the warpath.\"\n\nA fierce cry was raised, and the war dance was begun. The chiefs painted\ntheir bodies, donned their war shirts, sharpened their tomahawks, tipped\ntheir arrows, and tightened their bowstrings.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBut by the time they had made ready, the sun had set, and the blanket of\ndarkness had fallen upon them. A council was quickly called. It was\ndecided that they would not start to war until moonrise. So the warriors\nlay down to sleep.\n\nAs they slept, another council was called. This was not a council of\nmen, but of mice.\n\nFrom long and short trails they came, hundreds and hundreds of mice, for\nall had heard the warriors boast of their strength.\n\n\"Now,\" said the mice, \"we will show these boasters how weak are men,\nand how strong are little mice.\"\n\nWhen all the mice were gathered about the council tree, the leader spoke\nthus: \"My brothers, listen! The Great Spirit did not give men strength,\nthat they should fight and kill one another. The Great Spirit did not\nmake men powerful, that they should strike down and kill the weaker\nanimals. Let us show these fierce warriors that it is the weak who are\nstrong, and the strong who are weak. Let every mouse destroy at least\none weapon before the moon shall rise.\"\n\nAt this, all the mice set to work. Snap, snap, snap, went the bowstrings\non all sides. Then the sharp little teeth began on the feathers that\nwinged the poisoned arrows. Soon the feathers lay in bits about the\nground.\n\nNext, the deerskin cords that bound the sling shots were cut in two, and\nbefore the moon had risen, every weapon had been made useless; every\nIndian had been disarmed,--and the mice had scampered away.\n\nThe warriors awoke. Again the war cry was raised. They sprang to their\nfeet and seized their weapons, but found them useless. Their bows had no\nstrings; their arrows, no wings; their slings, no cords.\n\nThe warriors who boasted that they were the strongest and fiercest on\nthe earth, had been made powerless by mice.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY CROWS ARE POOR\n\n\nAfter the Great Spirit had made the Red Children and had given them this\nbeautiful land in which to live, he sent them a great gift,--the gift of\nthe corn.\n\n_Ga gaah_, the Crow, claims it was he who brought this gift. He says he\nwas called to the wigwam of the Great Spirit in the sky. A grain of corn\nwas placed in his ear, and he was told to carry it to earth, to the Red\nChildren.\n\nTherefore, as _Ga gaah_ brought the gift, he claims he has a right to\npull what corn he needs. _Ga gaah_ says he does not \"steal\" corn. He\nsimply takes what belongs to him, his rightful share.\n\nAnd surely _Ga gaah_ is not greedy! He never takes more corn than he\nwants for himself. He never hides or stores it away. He takes just what\nhe wishes to eat at the time, and no more, for crows never think of\nto-morrow.\n\nIn summer, they are happy in the cornfields, guarding the roots from\ninsect enemies, and pulling the tender blades whenever they are hungry.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBut when winter comes, the crows are sad. Many councils are held.\nSometimes a council tree will be black with crows. All are so poor and\nso hungry, that they get together to try to plan a better way to live.\n\nThere is much noise and confusion at a crow council, for all the crows\ntalk at once. All are saying, \"No bird is so poor as the crow; he is\nalways hungry. Next summer, let us plant and raise a big crop of corn,\nand gather and save it for the winter. Next winter, crows will not be\nhungry; they will have food.\n\n\"We will no longer take from the fields of the Red Children just enough\ncorn for a meal to-day. We will raise our own corn, and lay by a store\nfor the winter.\"\n\nAnd having agreed that this is a wise plan, the council ends.\n\nA few days later, another council will be called. At this, the crows\nwill plan how and where to plant the corn. Some will be appointed to\nselect a field, others to find seed, and still others to plant and tend\nthe corn.\n\nBut, alas! When spring comes, and skies are blue, and the sun shines\nwarm, the crows forget the hunger of the winter, and the councils in the\ntree. They remember only that the skies are blue, and the sun shines\nwarm, and now there is plenty of corn.\n\nHappy and content, they walk up and down the fields of the Red Children.\n\n\"We have all we want to-day,\" they say, \"Why should we think of\nto-morrow, or next winter? We had a good meal this morning, and we are\nsure of one to-night. Is not this enough for a crow? What more can he\nask?\"\n\nAnd the next winter comes, and finds the crows as poor and as hungry as\nthey were the last. Again they are holding noisy councils in the council\ntree. Again they are laying plans for the great crop of corn that they\nwill raise next summer!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE INDIAN LOVES HIS DOG\n\n\nThe dog is the Indian's best friend. He is the comrade by day and the\nprotector by night. As long as the Indian's dog has strength, he will\nfight for his friend.\n\nThe Indian says this is how the dog came to take his part.\n\nAn Indian and his dogs went into the woods to hunt. It was in the days\nwhen dogs and men could talk together, and each understood the language\nof the other.\n\nWhen they reached the woods, the dogs began to talk with the Indian.\nThey told him many wonderful things about the woods, which he did not\nknow. They taught him many tricks of the chase: how to scent and track\nthe game, and where to look for trails.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe man listened to what the dogs said, and he did as they told him.\nSoon the sledge which the dogs had drawn to the woods was piled high\nwith deer and other game.\n\nNever had the Indian's arrows brought him so much game. Never had he met\nwith such success in hunting. He was so pleased that he said to the\ndogs, \"Always shall I talk with you, give ear to what you say, and be\none of you.\"\n\n\"Ah, but listen!\" said the dogs. \"If you wish to be one of us, you must\nlive under the law of dogs, not men. Animals have laws different from\nthose of men. When two dogs meet for the first time, they try their\nstrength to see which is the better dog.\n\n\"Men do not fight when strangers meet, they shake hands. As we fight\nstrange dogs, so you, too, must fight strange men, to see which is the\nbest man,--if you are to live under the law of dogs.\"\n\nThe man said he would think it over, and at sunrise give his answer.\nIndians always sleep before deciding a question.\n\nNext morning, the man said he would live under the law of animals, and\nfight strange men.\n\nThe following day, the man made ready to leave the woods. From the\nbasswood, he made a strong harness for the dogs, so that they could draw\nthe load of game back to the camp for him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the sun was high, the man and the dogs started with the sledge\nload of game. They had not gone far before they saw two strange Indians\ncoming.\n\n\"Now,\" said the dogs to the man, \"remember you are living under the\ndog's law. You must fight these strange men.\"\n\nThe man attacked first one Indian and then the other. At last both\nturned on him, and when they left him, he was nearly dead. At this, the\ndogs took a hand. They leaped upon the Indians and drove them from the\nwoods. Then they came back to where their friend lay on the ground, and\nbegan to talk with him and lick his face.\n\nThe man could not speak for some time, but when his voice came to him,\nhe said to the dogs, \"No longer do I wish to live under the law of\nanimals. No more shall I fight strangers. From this time, I shall shake\nhands with strangers, and bid them welcome. From this time, I shall be a\nman and live under the law of men.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the dogs sadly, \"we shall no longer be able to talk with\nyou, and tell you the things that we know. But we will always stand by\nyou. We will be your friends and will fight for you, when you need us as\nyou did to-day.\"\n\nThis is why the Indian and his dog are now unable to speak each other's\nlanguage. This is also why an Indian's dog will fight to the death for\nhis friend.\n\nNot only is the dog a true friend to the Indian in this world, but in\nthe next as well. It seems that the soul of an Indian on its journey to\nthe Happy Hunting Ground must cross a deep, swift-running stream. On\neither side of this dark river, there stand two dogs who hold in their\nteeth a great log upon which the souls pass.\n\nThe soul of the Indian who has been kind to his dog crosses the log\neasily, for the dogs stand guard. As the soul of such an Indian reaches\nthe river, they say, \"This Indian was kind to his dog. He gave him of\nhis own food, and the dog always had a warm place by his fire. We will\nhelp this Indian to cross.\"\n\nThen the dogs grip the log firmly in their teeth, and hold it steady\nwhile the soul of the kind Indian passes over.\n\nBut if the soul of an Indian who has been unkind to his dog comes to the\nriver, the dogs say, \"This man was cruel to his dog. He gave his dog no\nplace by the fire, he beat him, he let him go hungry. This man shall not\ncross.\"\n\nThen the dogs grip the log lightly in their teeth, and when the soul of\nthe unkind Indian is half way across, they turn it quickly to one side,\nand the soul is thrown into the deep, dark river.\n\nMany an Indian has been kind to his dog, that he might make sure of a\nsafe crossing on that log.\n\n\n\n\nGREEDY FAWN AND THE PORRIDGE\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn the days when there was no one living in this country but the\nIndians, there were no houses; there were only Indian wigwams. There\nwere no roads and no streets, but Indian trails.\n\nAt that time there grew a wonderful chestnut, which the Indians used in\ntheir cooking. A very small bit of this chestnut grated into a kettle\nwould make a potful of porridge.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn a certain wigwam lived Deerheart and Sky Elk, and their little son\nGreedy Fawn. The mother was called Deerheart because she was so loving,\nand gentle, and kind. The father was named Sky Elk because he was so\nstrong and fleet of foot. Greedy Fawn, too, came rightly by his name.\nYou will soon know why.\n\nOne day, Deerheart and Sky Elk went on a long trail. As they left the\nwigwam, they said to Greedy Fawn, \"Do not touch the chestnut, do not\nbuild a fire, while we are away.\"\n\nGreedy Fawn promised. He watched his father and mother disappear down\nthe western trail. Then he went back to the wigwam.\n\n\"Now,\" thought he, \"I will have all the porridge I want.\"\n\nSo he ran and gathered some sticks. He built a fire with the sticks.\nThen he hung the kettle over the fire, and put some water in it. Then he\nfound the chestnut. He grated a little of the chestnut into the kettle,\nand began to stir. Then he grated some more, and some more, and some\nmore.\n\nFaster and faster Greedy Fawn stirred the boiling porridge, for it began\nto swell and fill the kettle.\n\nLarger and larger, it grew, and it grew, and it grew.\n\nGreedy Fawn was so frightened he did not know what to do.\n\n\"Oh, will it never stop swelling?\" he thought. Harder and harder he\nstirred to keep the porridge from boiling over. Beads of perspiration\nran down his little bronze face, yet still he stirred. He dared not\nstop.\n\nThen he remembered that sometimes his mother would rap the kettle with\nthe porridge stick, if it became too full.\n\nRap, rap, rap, went the porridge stick on the edge of the kettle.\nInstantly the _kettle_ began to swell. Larger, and larger, and larger it\ngrew. Greedy Fawn was so frightened he did not know what to do.\n\nNow Greedy Fawn could not reach across the kettle, to stir the porridge\nwith his stick, so he began to run around it. And around, and around,\nand around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and stirring.\n\nAt last the kettle was so large that it nearly filled the wigwam. There\nwas just space enough left for Greedy Fawn to run around it. And around,\nand around, and around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and\nstirring.\n\nOh, how his little arms ached! And, oh, how tired his small legs were!\nBut still he ran. He dared not stop.\n\nHere was porridge enough to last a small boy a lifetime, and he could\nnot stop to taste one mouthful!\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAt last Greedy Fawn could run no longer. He stumbled and fell by the\nside of the kettle. He was too weak to rise. The stick fell from his\nhand, and the porridge boiled on. Higher, and higher, and higher it\nrose, until it ran over and down the sides of the kettle. Closer, and\ncloser the boiling porridge crept to the little Indian boy, and soon\nGreedy Fawn and his stick were nearly buried in porridge.\n\nFor once Greedy Fawn had all the porridge he wanted. And never again\nwould he have wanted anything, had not Deerheart and Sky Elk heard his\ncries, and come running like deer up the trail to save him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY HOUNDS OUTRUN OTHER ANIMALS\n\n\nA hound was chasing a hare through the woods.\n\nSome wolves and panthers were chasing a bull that had been feeding in\nthe valley near the woods. For some time they had been trying to run him\ndown, but they did not seem to gain on him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhen the wolves and panthers saw that they were not gaining on the bull,\nthey halted to take counsel. They decided that it would take a whole day\nof hard running to get the bull, and a hound was near! Why not go for\nthe hound?\n\nAll agreed. They set off for the hound.\n\nNow the bull had heard the wolves and panthers take council, and he,\ntoo, set off for the woods.\n\nAs he neared the wood, the bull called to the hound and warned him that\na pack of wolves and panthers was after him. Just then they came into\nsight. The hound dared not meet them alone, and he knew not which way to\nturn.\n\nThen the bull called, \"Come, jump on my back. I can outrun them.\"\n\nThe hound ran and leaped on the back of the bull, and away they went.\n\nThe bull and the hound talked as they ran. The bull said he thought the\nwolves would soon grow tired, fall back, and give up the chase. But he\nwas wrong. They were too angry at being outwitted.\n\n\"You think to take our game from us,\" they howled at the bull. \"But we\nwill eat hound meat to-night.\"\n\nThe bull saw it was a run for life. All day he ran. For a time it was\neasy to outrun the wolves and panthers, but at last they began to press\nhard upon him.\n\nAs the sun dropped out of the sky, the bull felt his knees begin to\nweaken. The weight of the hound was telling on him. A moment later, he\nstumbled and fell.\n\nIn an instant, the pack was upon them. But with one leap, the hound\ncleared the pack and was off down the trail.\n\nThe weaker wolves and panthers leaped upon the bull. The stronger went\non.\n\nBut now the best of them were no match for the hound. He was fresh and\nstrong, for he had been riding all day. They were tired and worn from\nthe long chase, and soon they gave it up.\n\nBecause the hound is able to save his strength for the end of the chase,\nhe can now outrun not only wolves and panthers, but all the other\nanimals.\n\n\n\n\nWHY INDIANS NEVER SHOOT PIGEONS\n\n\nAn Indian hunter went into the forest in search of game.\n\nThe forest was so large that it would have taken three days to journey\nthrough it. All day he followed the track of the deer, but his arrows\nbrought him no food.\n\nAt night, he came to a dark, swift-running stream. He was tired and\nhungry.\n\n\"Here,\" said he, \"I will lie down and rest until sunrise.\"\n\nHe began to search for a bed of pine needles, for the Indian loves the\npine tree. It is his friend by day and by night. By day it is his forest\nguide. At night it gives him a soft, sweet-smelling bed on which to\nsleep, and it shields him from the storm.\n\nThe hunter ran along the stream. It was very dark. He felt no soft pine\nneedles under his moccasined feet, only the knotted roots of trees.\n\nSuddenly the great roots of an oak tree reached out and caught him. He\ncould not free his foot from the oak's grasp.\n\nThe sun rose and set. The great tree still held the hunter fast. He was\nweak from pain and hunger.\n\nIt was now two days since he had tasted food. Four notches had been cut\nin his stick, for the Indian measures time in this way. Each sunrise and\nsunset, when he is on the trail, is marked by a notch on a small stick\nwhich he carries.\n\nThree times did the sun again rise and set, yet the tree did not let go\nits hold. There were now ten notches on the stick, and the hunter was so\nweak that he could scarcely cut the last one.\n\nAs the sun rose on the fifth day, a bird flew into the tree. He saw the\nhunter lying on the ground, and came close and spoke to him.\n\nThe hunter understood, for in those days men and birds could talk\ntogether.\n\nThe bird asked the man what he could do for him, and the hunter\nwhispered, \"You are strong. You can fly a long trail. Go and tell the\nchief of my people.\"\n\nThe bird flew swiftly away with the message. He did not wait until the\nsun was high. He did not stop to eat one berry or one worm. He did not\nfly high, nor fly low to talk with other birds. He went straight to the\npeople the hunter had told him of.\n\nThe West Wind tried to blow him back. A black cloud came up to frighten\nhim, but he went through it. On, and on, and on, he went. Straight to\nthe wigwam of the chief, he carried his message.\n\nThe chief had called together the young men who were fleet of foot, and\nwas about to send them forth to find the lost hunter. They were asking\nthe chief what trails they had best take. Before the chief could reply,\na beautiful dove-colored bird had flown close to his ear and had spoken\nto him in soft, low tones.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe chief told the young men what the bird had said, and they set off on\nthe trail the bird had named. Before sunset, they had found the lost\nhunter.\n\nCarefully they freed him from the grasp of the great oak and bore him to\nhis people. That night there was a feast and a dance in his honor.\n\nEver since, the Indians have loved the birds that carry the messages,\nand they never shoot a pigeon.\n\n\n\n\nHOW OLD MAN WINTER WAS DRIVEN BACK\n\n\nFar away in the North Sky lives Old Man Winter. Every year he leaves his\nwigwam in the sky and comes to earth.\n\nAt the foot of a mountain, he builds a lodge of ice and snow, which no\nhuman being, animal, or bird can enter. There he lives for a time.\n\nNorth Wind is the only friend of Old Man Winter. When he passes near Old\nMan Winter's lodge, he gives a loud shriek, and with his blustering\nbreath he blows open the door and enters.\n\nNear a fire which glows, but does not warm, North Wind finds a seat.\nThere he and Old Man Winter sit and smoke, and lay their plans for the\nnext snowstorm.\n\nWhen the council is ended, North Wind departs, to drive up the snow and\nhail from the corners of the earth.\n\nOld Man Winter also leaves his lodge. He stalks over the mountains and\nvalleys of the Red Children. The land becomes white with his breath. The\nrivers are stilled, and all the voices of the wood are hushed as he\npasses. A deep sleep falls upon every living thing.\n\nNo sound is heard in the forest but the rapping on the trees. Old Man\nWinter carries a great hammer, and he strikes the trees a blow as he\npasses. The colder it grows, the louder and more frequently he raps. The\ntrees snap, and the Indian lodges crack with his blows.\n\nOne day, as Old Man Winter was stalking through a forest, he came upon a\nhunter's lodge. For days the snow had been falling. No track of deer or\nrabbit was to be seen, and the hunter and his little boy sat within,\nweak from hunger. They were also very cold, for the fire in the lodge\nburned low.\n\nOld Man Winter laughed and shook his hammer in glee, as he drew near.\nOnce, twice, three times, he rapped. The little boy within heard him,\nand rapped three times in reply,--just as Old Man Winter had done.\n\nAt this, the hunter spoke. He told the boy that he must not mock a\nnature spirit, lest some harm should come to him. He might be captured\nand made to serve that spirit.\n\nNow when Old Man Winter heard the mocking raps of the little boy within\nthe lodge, he was very angry. He breathed fiercely upon the little\nlodge. It shrank and shivered at his touch like a living thing. He\nstruck it several sharp blows with his hammer, and passed on.\n\nThe fire inside the lodge burned lower and lower. The hunter and his\nlittle son drew closer and watched the last flame flicker and die out.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAs they sat by the ashes, numb with the cold, all of a sudden a new\nwarmth filled the lodge. The South Wind gently opened the door, and a\nyoung chieftain, with a face like the sun, entered. He saw the dying\nhunter and the boy, and he warmed them back to life. When they were\nstronger, he helped them to rekindle the fire. Then he told them to take\na few dried blackberries that they had in the lodge, and boil them in\nwater.\n\nHe said they must eat a portion of the blackberries, and throw the rest\nat Old Man Winter when he returned. This would frighten him away, for he\nwas terribly afraid of blackberries.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBlackberries mean sunshine and summer heat. Old Man Winter cannot stay\nwhere they are. He never visits the earth at blackberry time.\n\nThe hunter and the little boy said they would do as they had been told.\nSoon the young chieftain left the lodge, with the South Wind.\n\nNot many days later, Old Man Winter returned, and again came rapping at\ntheir lodge. But this time the hunter and the little boy were ready.\nThey threw the blackberries at him, as they had been told, and he ran in\nfear to his ice lodge.\n\nThe South Wind and the young chieftain with a face like the sun were\nnear. They followed close upon the Old Man's track. When he was again\ninside the ice lodge, the South Wind rapped gently at the door.\n\n\"Begone!\" said the Old Man. \"No one but North Wind is welcome to my\nlodge.\"\n\nThen the South Wind breathed soft and warm upon the door of the ice\nlodge, and it melted at their feet. The young chieftain passed in and\nsat down by the strange fire that had no heat. The South Wind stayed\nwithout, and sang, soft and low.\n\nThe Old Man was very angry. He raged about the lodge and ordered the\nyoung chieftain with sunshine in his face and warmth in his breath to\ndepart.\n\n\"I am great and powerful,\" said the Old Man. \"When I touch the sky, the\nsnow falls. When I speak, hunters hide in their lodges; animals crawl\ninto their holes; and birds fly in fear.\n\n\"When my hand touches the earth, it grows cold and hard, and all life\ndies. Begone! or I will make an ice man or a snow man of you.\"\n\nBut the young chieftain moved not. He only sat and smiled at the bluster\nof the Old Man.\n\nSlowly he filled a pipe, and handed it to the Old Man, saying, \"Here,\nsmoke with me. It will give you strength to go to your lodge in the\nNorth Sky. It is time for you to depart. You are old, and tired, and\nworn. You and North Wind have had your day. The days that are to come\nbelong to South Wind and to me.\n\n\"I, too, am powerful, and I am young! I do not fear you. When I touch\nthe earth, it grows soft and warm. Every living thing stirs in its\nsleep,--birds and bees, flowers and trees, animals and men. When I\nspeak, the sleeping sun awakes. See! already he begins to send down his\narrows. Hasten! that they may not find you, on the trail to the North\nSky.\"\n\nThe Old Man trembled. His legs and arms grew weak. Icicles fell from his\nbeard. Great tears rolled down his cheeks.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he whispered, as he was melting at the young chieftain's\nfeet.\n\n\"I am _Go hay_--the Spring,\" answered the young chieftain. \"All the\nearth is glad, when I come to drive you back to your lodge in the North\nSky, for I bring sunshine, and love, and joy.\"\n\nBut the Old Man did not hear. He was far on the North Sky trail, and\nSpring and South Wind were masters of earth.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY LIGHTNING SOMETIMES STRIKES\n\n\nAn old man of the Iroquois nation once wished to make a beautiful Indian\nmaiden his wife. The old man had many rare furs and valued strings of\nwampum. These he brought and laid at the door of the wigwam where the\nmaiden lived.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe father and mother were pleased with the old man's gifts. They told\nhim that when the Planting Moon should come, the maiden should go to his\nwigwam.\n\nNow the maiden did not love the old man. She did not wish him to make\nher his wife. \"I will never sit at his wigwam door,\" she said.\n\nIt was midwinter, when the old man brought the gifts, the time of the\npale, cold moon. From that time, the maiden watched, with a heavy heart,\nthe moons wax and wane.\n\nAt last the snows disappeared. No more was the North Wind heard\nshrieking about the lodge. The gentle South Wind had come, bringing with\nhim the singing birds.\n\nThe little brooks awoke and sang. They were happy that spring had come,\nand all the earth children were glad,--except the maiden. Her heart grew\nmore heavy and sad, as the face of the sun grew brighter.\n\nThen the Planting Moon came. The maiden watched the moon hang her horn\nin the sky. Then she ran swiftly to the great river that flowed not far\nfrom the lodge. Lightly she sprang into her canoe. A few quick strokes,\nand the canoe was in midstream.\n\nThe current ran swift and strong. The little craft was carried swiftly\ndown the river toward the great falls known as Niagara Falls. As the\ncanoe neared the falls, the maiden was seen to rise and stretch out her\narms, as though about to leap. A smile was on her face, and a song was\non her lips, as the canoe shot into the mist that overhung the water.\n\nThen, from the caverns below a dark blanket floated upward, as though\nspread to catch the maiden. It was Heno, the Thunder Spirit, who dwelt\nbehind the falls. He had caught her in the folds of his blanket, and\nhad saved her from the great rocks below.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHeno took the maiden to live with him, in his lodge behind the falls.\nThere she was very happy, so happy that her smile shone through the\nmist, and the Indians cried, \"See! A rainbow!\"\n\nIn her new home the maiden learned many wonderful things. She found she\npossessed strange powers, not known to her before. She could float on a\ncloud at will, and she seemed filled with a strange fire.\n\nOne day, the young woman was given a son. Heno and she were very happy.\nMany moons the mother and child played together. When Heno was away on\none of his journeys through the sky, they would ride the great bubbles\nof foam that went dashing through the rocks. Sometimes they would catch\nsunbeams in a net, as they sat on the edge of a cloud and fished.\n\nOne day, Heno asked the young woman if she would like to visit her\npeople.\n\n\"If you wish,\" he said, \"you shall return for a time, taking our son\nwith you. But remember, both of you possess powers unknown to the earth\nchildren. Be careful how you use them. Never let another child strike\nthe boy, for that child would at once wither and die. Never strike the\nboy yourself, for he would fall stunned to earth.\"\n\n[Illustration: CRADLE BOARD]\n\nThe woman listened to Heno's words. Soon they were wrapped in his great\ncloud blanket, and were floating over the river. When they came to the\nhome of her people, Heno left the woman and the boy by the river, and\nwent on further to the east.\n\nThe people were glad to see the woman, whom they had mourned as dead.\nShe told them of the wonderful things she had learned in her new home.\nShe told them also how Heno was freeing their land of a monster serpent,\nthat trailed underneath the earth, poisoning their springs and causing\nsickness. Always, she said, Heno carried a basket of great rocks on his\nback, which he hurled at the monster whenever he saw him. Soon he would\nkill the serpent, and they would be sick no more.\n\nDuring many days, the mother and the little boy stayed with the earth\npeople. Sometimes, when the child was playing by the river, he would see\na dark cloud approaching. Then he would clap his hands with joy and cry,\n\"There comes my father!\"\n\nThe black cloud would float earthward, and Heno would stop and have a\nword with the mother and the boy. As he left them he always said, \"Do\nnot let anyone strike the boy.\"\n\nBut one day, the mother did not watch the boy, and he fell to playing\nwith some earth children. They grew angry as they played, and struck the\nboy. Instantly these earth children fell dead to the ground. Then the\nmother laid hands on the boy, to punish him, and he fell to earth.\n\nAt this, there came a great rumbling and roaring through the sky, and\nHeno appeared. He took the lifeless child in his arms, crying, \"You have\ndisobeyed. No longer shall you have this great power I gave you. You\nshall remain on earth and be simply an earth woman. I will take the boy\nto my abode. Henceforth, our lodge shall be in the sky. There he will\nreturn to life, and ever after he will go with me on my journeys through\nthe sky.\"\n\nThen the sky shook and trembled. The door of the sky lodge opened, and\nHeno and the boy were seen no more.\n\nNow, when a rumbling and rolling through the sky is heard, the Indians\nsay, \"'Tis the voice of Heno! He is coming from his lodge in the sky!\"\n\nBut when a flash of fire is seen, and a loud crash is heard, they say,\n\"That is the boy! He is trying to hit the earth children with a fire\nstone. He remembers how they struck him, a long time ago.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE HARE HAS A SPLIT LIP AND SHORT TAIL\n\n\nOnce a rabbit began to run back and forth through the woods, calling for\nsnow, snow, snow! It was one of those large gray rabbits, with long\nears, that people call hares.\n\nAs this hare ran back and forth through the woods, he sang at the top of\nhis voice, \"_Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah-yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh!\ndah gen, dah ton, Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh!_\" This meant,\n\"Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow! Snow, snow, snow! How\nI would run if I had snow!\"\n\nNow, strange as it may seem, as this hare ran back and forth singing for\nsnow, snow, snow, some flakes of snow began to fall. The hare was so\ndelighted that he jumped up and down for joy.\n\n\"_Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh! Ah gon ne yah--yeh!_\" he sang,\nin short, quick notes of joy. And the higher he jumped, and the louder\nhe sang, the faster and thicker the snow came.\n\nThe hare was so delighted that he again began to run. All day long he\nran, back and forth through the woods, calling for \"Snow, snow, snow!\nHow I would run if I had snow!\" And the snow fell faster and faster.\nThicker and thicker it came. The path in which the rabbit ran grew\nhigher and higher, as the snow fell deeper and deeper.\n\nBut at last the hare was so tired that he could run no longer. He no\nlonger sang for \"Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow,\" for\nhe now had more snow than he wanted. The snow was up to the tiptops of\nthe trees, and it was very hard to run.\n\nThe hare was very tired. He thought he must take a rest. Night was\ncoming on. He looked about him. Near the path were the top branches of a\nwillow tree, sticking out above the snow. He sprang into a crotch of\nthose branches. There he could sit and rest for a time. Soon he fell\nasleep. He slept all night and part of the next day.\n\nThat night it began to rain, and it rained very, very hard. The snow\nbegan to melt, and it melted very, very fast, and when that hare awoke,\nnot a flake of snow was to be seen!\n\nBut there was the hare away up in the tiptop of that willow tree! What\nto do he did not know. He was very hungry. He wondered how long he could\nstay there and not starve. He saw some tender buds on the branches. He\nate those, and then he gnawed bark for a time.\n\nHowever, sooner or later, the hare knew he must jump or starve. He\nlooked down at the earth. It looked very good to him. He could see some\nfresh green moss and some beautiful grass. One jump, and they were his!\nBut what a jump!\n\nAt last the hare whipped his courage up to the jumping point. He shut\nhis eyes, and gave one great jump to earth. But when he jumped, he\ncaught his tail on the branch of the willow tree and left part of it up\nthere. And when he jumped, he struck the front of his face on a sharp\nstone, and the stone split his upper lip in two.\n\nEver since then, hares have had split lips and short tails, and ever\nsince then, willow trees have had tails, or catkins, on them, in the\nspring.\n\n\n\n\nCORN PLUME AND BEAN MAIDEN\n\n\nThe Great Spirit had smiled upon his Red Children. The land was filled\nwith plenty, for the Great Spirit had given to them the three sustainers\nof life, the corn, the bean, and the squash. Flowers bloomed, birds\nsang, and all the earth was glad with the Red Children, for the gifts of\nthe Great Spirit.\n\nOn one side of a hill grew the tall, waving corn, with its silk tassels\nand plumes. On another side, beans, with their velvety pods, climbed\ntoward the sky. Some distance down a third slope, beautiful yellow\nsquashes turned their faces to the sun.\n\nOne day, the Spirit of the corn grew restless. There came a rustling\nthrough the waving leaves, and a great sigh burst from the heart of the\ntall stalks. The Spirit of the corn was lonely.\n\nAfter that, every morning at sunrise, a handsome young chief was seen to\ncome and stand on the brow of the hill. On his head were shining red\nplumes. Tall, and strong, and splendid he stood, wrapped in the folds of\nhis waving blanket, whose fringed tassels danced to the summer breeze.\n\n\"_Che che hen! Che che hen!_ Some one I would marry! Some one I would\nmarry!\" the young chieftain would sing, many, many times.\n\nOne day, his voice reached the Squash Maiden, on the other side of the\nhill. The Squash Maiden drew about her a rich green blanket, into which\nshe had woven many flaunting gold trumpet-shaped flowers. Then she ran\nswiftly to the young chieftain.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Marry me! Marry me!\" said the Squash Maiden, as she spread her\nbeautiful gold and green blanket at his feet.\n\nCorn Plume looked down at the Squash Maiden sitting on her blanket at\nhis feet. She was good to look upon, and yet Corn Plume was not content.\nHe wanted a maiden who would stand by his side, not always sit at his\nfeet.\n\nThen Corn Plume spoke thus to the Squash Maiden.\n\n\"Corn Plume cannot marry Squash Maiden. She is very beautiful, but she\nwill not make song in Corn Plume's heart. Squash Maiden will grow tired\nof his lodge. She will not stay in his wigwam. She likes to go a long\ntrail, and wander far from the lodge.\n\n\"Corn Plume cannot make Squash Maiden his wife, for he is not content\nwith her. But she shall be Corn Plume's sister, and sit in his lodge\nwhenever she will. The maiden Corn Plume weds must be ever at his side.\nShe must go where he goes, stay where he stays.\"\n\nNext morning at sunrise, the voice of Corn Plume was again heard,\nsinging from the hilltop, \"_Che che hen! Che che hen!_ Some one I would\nmarry! Some one I would marry! _Che che hen! Che che hen!_\"\n\nThis time his song reached the ears of the Bean Maiden. Her heart sang,\nwhen she heard the voice of Corn Plume, for she knew that he was calling\nher. So light of heart was Bean Maiden, that she ran like a deer up the\nhillside. On and on, up and over the brow of the hill she climbed, till\nshe reached the young chieftain's side.\n\nThen Corn Plume turned and beheld the most beautiful maiden he had ever\nseen. Her eyes were deep and dark, like mountain pools. Her breath was\nsweet as the waters of the maple. She threw off her blanket of green,\nand purple, and white, and stretched her twining arms to him.\n\nCorn Plume desired to keep Bean Maiden forever close to him. He bent his\ntall plumed head to her. Her arms wound round and round the young\nchieftain, and Corn Plume was content.\n\nSo closely were the arms of Corn Plume and the Bean Maiden entwined, so\ntruly were they wed, that the Indians never attempted to separate them.\nEver after, corn and beans were planted in the same hill, and often a\nsquash seed was added.\n\nSince the Great Spirit had placed the corn, the bean, and the squash\ntogether on a hill, the Indian said they should continue to live and\ngrow and occupy a hill together.\n\nThe door of Corn Plume's lodge was ever open to the Squash Maiden, if\nshe chose to enter. But seldom did she stay in his wigwam. More often,\nshe was found running off on a long trail.\n\nBut Bean Maiden remained true to Corn Plume. Always she was found by his\nside. Never did she leave the lodge unless he went with her. Corn\nPlume's lodge was her lodge, and her trail was his trail.\n\nAnd because the Spirits of the corn and the bean are as one, the Indians\nnot only plant and grow them together, but cook and eat them together.\n\"In life, they were one,\" they say, \"We will not separate them in\ndeath.\"\n\nAnd now, when a great rustling and sighing of the corn is heard in the\nWhite man's land, the Indians often say, \"'Tis the Spirit of Corn Plume,\ncrying for his lost Bean Maiden!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE ROBIN BURNED HIS BREAST\n\n\nSome Indian hunters once made their way north, to hunt for moose. It was\nat the time of Falling Leaves.\n\nThey journeyed for several days, until they came to a lake. Close by the\nlake they built a log cabin. Moss was placed between the logs to keep\nout the wind, and a thick roof was made from hemlock boughs. In the\ncenter of the roof, a small opening was left for the smoke from the\nlodge fire to pass out.\n\nHere the hunters lived during the Moon of Falling Leaves. Every day they\nwent on the moose trail, but they found no moose. Their arrows brought\nthem little game of any kind. They became discouraged and sick, and one\nby one the hunters lay down and died.\n\nAt last there was but one hunter left. He, too, was sick, and he grew\nweaker day by day. His food was nearly gone. It was growing cold, and\nthere was little wood in the cabin to burn.\n\nBut the man did not give up. Again and again he cried aloud, \"Some one\nwill come and help me! Some one will come and help me!\"\n\nOne day, as he lay there too weak to rise, the fire flickered and went\nout. It seemed that he must die. But even then he did not give up. Again\nand again, with his weak voice he cried, \"Some one will come and help\nme! Some one will come and help me!\"\n\nAnd some one did come and help him. His cry was heard, for a bird came\nflying in through the smoke hole in the roof of the lodge.\n\nThe bird had such a cheery, brave voice that the man felt better the\nmoment he flew in. The bird said to the man, \"I was near; I heard you\ncalling. I have come to help you.\"\n\nThen the bird saw that the fire was out, and that the man was cold. He\nfluttered among the ashes until he found a bit of live coal. With a glad\nchirp, he flew out through the roof. Soon he was back, with his bill\nfull of dried twigs. He placed them on the fire and began to fan them\ninto flame with his wings. Soon the twigs were blazing. Then he flew out\nfor more twigs,--and more, and more, and more.\n\nThe brave little bird kept on carrying twigs until the fire burned hot,\nand the lodge was warm once more.\n\nWhen the bird had flown into the lodge, he had had a clean, white\nbreast. After the fire was built, his breast was covered with red and\nbrown spots. He tried to pick them off with his bill, but they would\nnot come off. Instead, they seemed to spread, and his whole breast\nbecame red-brown. Then the bird knew that he must have burned his breast\nto a red-brown, when he was fanning the fire into flame.\n\nBut the little bird did not care if he had soiled his white breast, and\nburned it red-brown. Had he not brought cheer and life to a dying man?\n\nHe chirped a few glad notes, then said to the man, \"I will go now, but I\nshall be near your lodge. When you need me, call, and I will come\nagain.\"\n\nLater in the day, the man again called for help. The fire was getting\nlow, and he was not yet strong enough to go out and gather twigs. Again\nthe bird came to his aid. In and out he flew, many times, after small\nbranches and twigs, until they were piled high on the fire, and once\nmore it crackled and burned.\n\nThere was a little wood in the lodge. The man placed it on the fire,\nand the warmth healed the man, so that soon he was well and strong\nagain.\n\nEvery day the man talked with the bird, for he was always near, and his\ncheery voice and brave words gave the man courage.\n\nOnce more he went on the moose trail, and this time his arrows brought\nhim moose. In a short time the hunter had all the meat, skins, and moose\nhair he wanted. The moose hair he was taking to his wife, to work into\npretty forms on moccasins.\n\nThe first snow was falling, as the hunter started south on the home\ntrail. The bird hopped along by his side for a little way, then said, \"I\nmust leave you now. Winter is coming, and I must be on my way to the\nSouthland, or the snow will catch me. In the spring you will see me\nagain.\"\n\nWhen spring came, the bird with the red-brown breast came with his mate,\nand built a nest close to the hunter's home lodge. In the nest, that\nsummer, there grew up five little birds, and they, too, had red and\nbrown breasts.\n\nAnd ever since, Robin Redbreast has continued to come and build his nest\nclose to the lodges of men, for Robin Redbreast is a friend to man.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nIROQUOIS FAIRY STORIES\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOW MORNING STAR LOST HER FISH\n\n\nOnce the Little People, the Indian fairies, ran with the Red Children\nthrough the woods, and played with them beside the streams. Now they are\nnot often seen, for the white man drove them out of the woods with the\nIndians, and away from the waters, with his big steam noises.\n\nBut before steamboats and great mills were on the streams, the Little\nPeople were there. They were often seen paddling their tiny canoes, or\nsliding down the great rocks on the banks. They loved to slide down a\nbank where one rock jutted out, for then they had a big bounce. They\nalso liked to sport and jump with the fish.\n\nThere was a young Indian girl whose name was Morning Star. She was\ncalled Morning Star because her face was so bright, and she was always\nup early in the morning.\n\nMorning Star lived with her father in a comfortable wigwam by a river.\nEvery day she would get up with the sun, and run down to the river where\nthe great rocks were, to catch fish for breakfast.\n\nMorning Star caught her fish in a basket. At night, she would go and\nfasten her basket between the rocks, in a narrow place of the stream.\nThen, when the fish swam through in the night, they would get caught in\nit, and Morning Star would find plenty of fish waiting for her. In the\nmorning, she would take the basket of fish back to the wigwam, and soon\nthe smell of fish frying on hot coals would come from the lodge.\n\nNever since Morning Star began to fish with her basket, had Chief Little\nWolf, her father, had to wait for his fish breakfast before starting on\nthe chase. But one morning, neither Chief Little Wolf nor Morning Star\nbreakfasted on fish. This is how it happened.\n\nOn this morning, the Indian girl was up as usual with the sun. She ran\ndown the river just as the Great Spirit lifted the sun's smiling face.\nMorning Star had such a light heart that she was glad just to be alive,\nand she sang a song of praise as she ran. All true Indians at sunrise\nlift their arms and faces to the sun, and thank the Great Spirit that he\nhas smiled upon them again.\n\nHappy and fleet as a deer, Morning Star ran on until she came to the\ngreat rocks. There she saw a whole tribe of tiny little folk gathered\nabout her basket. Some of them were perched on the sides of the basket,\nlaughing and singing. Others were lifting the fish from it and throwing\nthem into the stream. Still others were opening and closing the splints\nof the basket for the fish to slip through.\n\nMorning Star knew that these tiny folk were the _Jo gah oh_. She knew\nalso that these Little People were friends of the fish. They know every\ntwist of a fish net and every turn of a hook. Often they have been known\nto set fish free, and to guide them into deep, quiet places, far away\nfrom the men who fish.\n\nMorning Star called to the Little People and begged them not to let all\nthe fish go. Then she began to climb down the rocks, as fast as she\ncould. The little Chief called up to her, \"Fish, like Indian girls, like\nto be alive.\"\n\nThen he told the Little People to keep on setting the fish free.\n\nWhen Morning Star reached her basket, a few fish were still in it. She\nput out her hand to take them from the Little People,--and not a fish,\nnor a _Jo gah oh_ was to be seen. The Little People had darted into\nthe rocks, for they go through anything, and the fish had slipped\nthrough the tiny spaces between the splints of the basket.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMorning Star heard the laughter of the Little People echo deep within\nthe rocks, for they like to play pranks with the earth children. And far\ndown the stream, she saw the fish leap with joy at being still alive.\nShe took up her empty basket and went back to the wigwam.\n\nThat morning for breakfast, Morning Star baked corn cakes on the hot\ncoals. As she ate the hot cakes, she thought they tasted almost as good\nas fish.\n\nEver after, when Morning Star saw a fish leap from the stream, she\nremembered what the _Jo gah oh_ had said: \"Fish, like Indian girls, like\nto be alive.\"\n\n\n\n\nHOW LITTLE SHOOTER LOST HIS LUCK\n\n\nOne day, an Indian boy was playing beside a stream, when one of the\nlittle elf men came along in his canoe. The boy had his bow and arrow\nwith him; so had the little elf man.\n\nThe little man stopped and offered to trade bows and arrows. The Indian\nboy looked first at his bow, and then at that of the little man. His bow\nwas large. The little man's bow was very small. The boy thought his own\nbow was better, so he said he would not trade.\n\nThe little elf man laughed and drew his bow.\n\n\"You think only big things are great,\" he said. \"Some day you will learn\nbetter. Some day you will want this little bow and these little arrows.\nSome day you will wish you had traded.\"\n\nThen he shot an arrow into the clouds, sprang into his canoe, and\npaddled off up the stream. As he disappeared, he called back to the boy,\n\"You will see me again, sometime!\"\n\nThe Indian boy ran to his wigwam home. He told his father about the\nlittle man he had seen, and how the man wanted to trade bow and arrows.\n\n\"And you did not trade?\" exclaimed the father.\n\n\"No,\" said the boy, \"his bow was small; mine is large.\"\n\n\"Foolish boy!\" said the father. \"That little man was a _Jo gah oh_, one\nof the Little People. They do wonderful things. Their arrows are winged\nwith power. Had you traded bows, you would have become a great hunter,\nand been able to get near the animals.\n\n\"Those little arrows of the _Jo gah oh_ fly swift and far, and always\nbring back game. The boy who has a _Jo gah oh_ bow and arrow always has\ngood luck. One arrow of theirs is worth a flight of yours. Had you\ntraded bow and arrows, you would have been called 'He shoots the sky.'\nNow you shall be called 'Little Shooter.'\"\n\nLittle Shooter grew to be a man. He went often on the chase, but his\narrows did not bring much game.\n\nMany times, he wished he could meet the little elf man again, and trade\nbow and arrows, for sometimes he ran for days and found no track of deer\nor rabbit. But the little elf man never came.\n\nOne day, when Little Shooter had grown to be quite an old man, he was\nwalking in the woods. He stopped under a tree to rest. Several times he\nfelt something fall on his head.\n\nAt last he looked up to see what it was.\n\nThere sat the little elf man, swinging on the tip of a branch, and\nthrowing nuts and twigs at him. He looked just as he did when Little\nShooter met him by the stream long before. He had not grown old or\nchanged at all.\n\n\"How long have you been here?\" asked Little Shooter.\n\n\"I have always been here,\" said the little man. \"I have been in the\nworld ever since the stones were soft.\"\n\nThen he laughed, and asked, \"Does Little Shooter now like big bow and\narrows best, or has he learned that sometimes small things are great?\nNext time, he had better trade with the little man,\" and aiming another\nnut at Little Shooter's head, he disappeared in the tree trunk.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOW AN INDIAN BOY WON HIS NAME\n\n\nIt was bluebird time, many moons ago. Little brooks laughed and danced,\nand all the forest was glad.\n\nAn Indian boy came running through the forest. He, too, was glad, for it\nwas spring!\n\nAs he ran down the trail, he saw something hanging from a bush. The bush\nwas but a few rabbit jumps from the trail, so he stopped to see what new\nflower the spring had brought. He found the new flower to be a tiny\npapoose cradle.\n\nThe boy picked the cradle from the bush, and held it in the palm of his\nhand. As he looked closer, he saw that there was a tiny papoose in the\nlittle cradle. The wee papoose laughed in his face, as he spoke to it.\n\nThe boy had never seen so tiny a papoose, and he thought he would take\nit home to his mother, it was so cunning. She had but nine of her own.\nHe was sure she would like one more, and that there would be a place for\nthe tiny stranger in their wigwam.\n\nHe started to run on down the trail, but something seemed to hold him\nfast. He could not get away. Three times he tried to run, but each time\nhe only circled round that bush. Something held him to the spot.\n\nJust then there came a sharp cry from up the trail. The boy thought some\nanimal must be hurt or in pain. He turned to look and saw a little woman\ncoming. She was less than a foot high, but she ran like a deer to the\nboy, and cried and begged him to give back her baby.\n\nThen the boy knew it was the love of that little mother that had held\nhim fast. He could not break the love cord between that mother and her\nbaby.\n\nNow the boy had a heart that was soft and kind. He liked to see\neverything happy. When he saw the little mother crying and begging for\nher baby, he felt sorry for her.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMany times he had heard his mother tell how every mother bird loves her\nyoung; every mother bear, her cub; every mother deer, her fawn; every\nIndian mother, her papoose. And he knew this little fairy mother must\nalso love her fairy baby, so he put it on the little mother's back, and\ntold her she should have her papoose.\n\nThe little mother gave a glad cry, as she felt the baby on her back once\nmore. Then she drew a stone from a bag which she carried, and slipped it\non a string of beads that hung from the boy's neck.\n\nThe stone shone on his breast like a dewdrop.\n\n\"Because you are good, and kind, and unselfish, and because you make\neverything happy,\" she said, \"you shall wear this good-luck stone. It\nwill bring you whatever you want.\n\n\"We Little People give this stone to those earth children only, who are\nstrong and yet protect the weak. Wear it always on your breast. Never\ntake it off, and you will become a mighty chief.\"\n\nThen the little mother gave another glad cry, and with her baby on her\nback she disappeared into an oak.\n\nThe boy ran on. His heart grew lighter and the stone brighter, as he\nran. Before he reached his mother's wigwam, his arrows had brought back\ngame for their evening meal.\n\nFrom the day when the boy met the little _Jo gah oh_ mother in the wood,\nand was given the stone, he had good luck. Whatever he did, all went\nwell with him. If he went on the chase, he brought back deer. If he\nplanted corn, it grew tall and fine. No boy could throw a ball as far,\nor could run as fast as he. He could shoot his arrows to the sky, and\ncould send his snow-snakes skimming far beyond the rest.\n\nSo lucky was this Indian boy, that his tribe called him\n\"Luck-in-all-moons.\" \"He wears the good-luck stone,\" the old people said\nas they sat around the fire, and they nodded their heads knowingly. But\nthey never knew how he came by it, or why he won the stone.\n\nAnd when \"Luck-in-all-moons\" grew to be a man, his tribe made him a\ngreat chief. Just as the little _Jo gah oh_ mother had said, he became a\nchief, though not in the chieftain line.\n\nBecause he stood so strong and straight, serving the people, protecting\nthe weak, and doing great deeds, he was called the Pine-tree Chief.\n\n\"His feet are planted deep in wisdom and strength,\" they said, \"and his\nhead is not far from the sky. He sees far and points us the way. As the\ntopmost branch of the pine points always to the east, so\nLuck-in-all-moons shall guide us to the sun rising. He shall be our\nPine-tree Chief.\"\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE FAIRIES WORKED MAGIC\n\n\nOnce a little Indian girl was very sad and unhappy. The Great Spirit had\ntaken her father and mother, and she had gone to live with relatives who\ndid not want her. Often she went to sleep hungry, for only the scraps of\nfood that were left from a meal were given to her.\n\nOne day, the relatives of the little girl brought in a fine deer from\nthe chase, and made ready for a feast. They told the girl to get out of\nthe lodge, for there was neither room, nor meat for her.\n\nThe little girl ran and hid herself in a great field of corn. There she\ncried aloud.\n\nSoon a band of strange Little People gathered about her, to comfort her.\nOn all sides, from the folds of the green cornstalks they came.\n\nThey stroked her head, wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, \"Don't\ncry, little girl. We will take care of you. You shall come and live with\nus. We will make a feast for you. We know why you are sad, for we can\nread the thoughts of all the earth children. Come with us, and we will\nshow you more wonderful things than you have ever seen.\"\n\nAt this the little girl dried her tears, and smiled at the kind Little\nPeople.\n\n\"You are very good to me,\" she said. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"We are the _Jo gah oh_,\" they replied, \"the Little People. Come, and we\nwill show you what we can do.\"\n\nThen they slipped some winged moccasins upon her feet. They wrapped her\nin an invisible blanket and put a magic corn plume in her hair, and the\nnext moment all were flying through the air.\n\nThey flew to a ledge of great rocks. At the touch of the Little People,\nthe rocks opened, and they passed within.\n\nThe girl found herself in a beautiful lodge. Kind _Jo gah oh_ mothers\nwere baking cakes and roasting meat. They welcomed the girl, and soon a\nfeast was spread in her honor.\n\nNow the heart of the little girl was so light that she danced with joy.\n\n\"What wonderful people you are! Can you go anywhere, or do anything you\nwish?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the little chief, \"the _Jo gah oh_ are small, but they are\ngreat. Come with us, and you shall see what we can do.\"\n\nAgain they were flying through the air. Soon they reached the lodge\nwhere the little girl had lived. It was night, and her relatives were\nasleep, but she could see the deer that hung outside ready for the\nfeast.\n\n\"Now,\" said the _Jo gah oh_ chief, \"we will call out a pack of wolves\nfrom the wood yonder, and there will be no fat deer for this selfish\nfeast, at sunrise.\"\n\nNow no wolves had been seen in that wood for many moons. But at the call\nof the fairies, a pack sprang from it, ran to the lodge, seized the\ndeer, and tore it into shreds. Then they again disappeared in the wood.\n\nThe little girl's eyes were large now with wonder, as they flew back to\nthe fairy lodge in the rocks, but she was not afraid of these strange\nLittle People. She was so happy with them she wished she might always\nlive in a _Jo gah oh_ lodge.\n\nOne morning, the little chief said, \"Today we shall see more wonders.\"\n\nThis time a tiny canoe was waiting. They stepped into it and sailed\ndown a river until they came to a great tree.\n\n\"In that tree,\" said the little chief, \"lives a great, black bear. Every\nday he comes out that door you see high up in the bear tree. I will make\nthe door fast so he cannot open it. A deep sleep will fall on him. He\nwill sleep for many moons.\"\n\nThen the chief threw three stones through the open door of the bear\ntree. Each time, a flame spread like a blanket over the door. A growling\nand scratching was heard within. Then all became still.\n\n\"Now,\" said the chief, \"the bear will sleep until I call him in the\nspring. He is locked up for the winter. Come, let us go on.\"\n\nThe little girl drew her invisible blanket closer, as the canoe went\nsailing with the birds through the clouds. The birds that were swift of\nwing called loudly for a race.\n\n\"Come on!\" said the fairy chief.\n\nThen he spread wide the invisible sails of his canoe, and they flew past\nthe birds like a streak of lightning. Even the eagle was left far\nbehind. They seemed to shoot through the sky.\n\nAnd, oh, what fun it was to be a bird! The little girl would have sailed\non forever, but the little chief said, \"You shall now return to your\npeople. We have given them soft hearts and kind minds. They are calling\nfor you. They will be glad to see you.\"\n\nAnd soon the little girl was again in the wigwam of her relatives,\nsitting by the warm fire.\n\nThey greeted her with joy, spread a soft skin for her to sit upon, and\ngave her the best food. And the little girl lived with them, ever after,\nand was happy.","title":"Stories the Iroquois Tell Their Children","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":26457}