AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY
NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO

Copyright, 1917, by
Mabel Powers.
All rights reserved.

W. P. 9

[Pg 8]

If the Red Children hadn't welcomed the writer to their lodge fires, these stories the Iroquois share with their children couldn't have been retold. With a couple of exceptions, the ideas in these stories came directly from the Indians themselves. To Arthur C. Parker—Ga wa so wa neh—for his thorough review of the stories and help in getting authentic Iroquois illustrations; and to the following storytellers who so generously welcomed her to their lodges and shared their stories, the writer is very thankful.

[Pg 9]

Once our fathers owned these lands of New York State. Once the Iroquois were a great people. Their council fires burned from the Hudson River in the east to Lake Erie in the west, from sunrise to sunset. Then the white man came. He asked for a small piece of buffalo skin. He took larger and larger pieces until the Indian had barely a small place to sit.

Now we have little left but stories of our fathers. They, too, will soon be lost and forgotten, but a voice has come to speak for us. Yeh sen noh wehs—the one who tells the stories—will carry these stories of our fathers to the White man. She will help the White man understand the Indian, and the Indian to be understood. She will unite all men as brothers.

Indian's heart is happy that Yeh sen noh wehs, our white friend, has come to us. She has good eyes. She sees clearly. She appreciates things Indian. She tries to preserve them. Our elders share with her the stories that were told to them, many moons ago, when they were little children.

Yeh sen noh wehs write down these stories so our kids and our grandkids can read and understand them; and so white kids can learn them too. Native people tell these stories to their children to make them good, brave, kind, and generous. Hopefully, they can teach white kids how they should act.

Again we say, the Indian is happy to have someone speak for him. He is happy to have someone write down the great and beautiful thoughts in the Indian's mind and heart. We have spoken. Na ho.

[Pg 10]

[Pg 11]

Out of the moons of the past, these stories have emerged. Back then, every tribe of the Iroquois had its own storyteller.

When the Old Man of the North came out of his lodge, and the forests and rivers of the Red Children turned white with his breath, these storytellers moved from wigwam to wigwam.[Pg 12]

Seated on warm furs by the fire, the storyteller would exclaim, "Hanio!" This meant, "Come, gather around, and I will tell a story."

Then all the Red Children would shout, "Heh," and gather around the fire. This showed they were happy to hear the story. As the flames danced and flickered along the fire trail, they would listen to these amazing tales about the Little People, the trees and flowers, the birds, animals, and humans. When the storyteller was done, he said, "Na ho." This meant, "It is the end."

The earth was very young when the Red Children first discovered how everything came to be and why things are the way they are. They shared these amazing stories with their children, who then passed them on to their children; and those children, in turn, shared them with theirs, so that these stories would not be forgotten.

Now, very few of the Red Children know the stories that the grandmothers and elders of the tribe used to share. The storyteller is no longer seen moving from wigwam to wigwam.

[Pg 13]

Some time ago, the author of these stories was asked to speak for an Indian Society. She accepted the invitation, and that night, she made her first Indian friends.

Her new friends shared a lot of amazing things about the Red Children. The more the writer discovered about the Iroquois people and Indian culture, the more fascinated she became. Eventually, she started to share what she had learned with the Paleface.

Soon, one of the tribes, the Senecas—the tribe to which her new friends belonged—heard that she was representing them. They wanted to honor her, so they invited her to their Green-Corn Feast and to become one of them.

So when the Green-Corn moon hung her[Pg 14] horn in the night sky, the writer found the path to the Land of the Senecas. There, the Senecas welcomed her into the Snipe clan of their nation. She was named Yeh sen noh wehs—"One who carries and tells the stories."

Thus it was that the writer became one of the Red Children, Yeh sen noh wehs—the Daughter of the Senecas.

The more Yeh sen noh wehs learned about the Red Children and their simple stories, the more she loved them. One day, Yeh sen noh wehs declared that she would be the storyteller not just for the Senecas, but for all the tribes of the Iroquois. There are six great families in this group. Each family is referred to as a tribe or nation.

Once, the council fires of these six nations blazed from the Hudson in the east to Lake Erie in the west, and they were a strong and influential people.[Pg 15]

It was during the Berry Moon that Yeh sen noh wehs began her journey. Since then, she has traveled through all the lands of the Senecas, Onondagas, Cayugas, Oneidas, Mohawks, and Tuscaroras.

Like the storyteller of the past, Yeh sen noh wehs traveled from lodge to lodge of the Iroquois. "Hanio," she would call, and as the Native Americans gathered around, she would share one of the stories that other Native friends had told her.

Sometimes this would remind the Red Children of another story that Yeh sen noh wehs didn’t know, and they would tell it to her. This is how these stories have been collected.

There were many days when Yeh sen noh wehs shared her stories, but none were shared back. Only a few tribe members—usually the oldest—could recall the stories "that used to be told."[Pg 16]

Sometimes Yeh sen noh wehs heard a story as she walked along a furrow, next to a worn-out Indian who was plowing with an even more worn-out team. Or she would listen while helping an Indian woman prepare the evening meal, pick berries, or gather nuts.

Sometimes, as Yeh sen noh wehs sat by a fire deep in a beautiful woods, watching the smoke from the sacred medicine rise, a medicine man would tell her a story; or an Indian woman would share a thought as she sat at her door weaving baskets or making beadwork.

These stories Yeh sen noh wehs has turned into a storybook so they won't be[Pg 17] lost and forgotten; so all the Iroquois Red Children and their descendants can know and share them, and Paleface children can learn them too.

The American kids don't have their own fairies. They have to borrow them from kids in other countries. Yeh sen noh wehs found this really sad, so she put a magic feather in her cap and strapped on winged moccasins. Then she set out to find authentic American wonder stories and real American fairies.

Had there not been a feather in the magic cap she wore, Yeh sen noh wehs wouldn't have found them. But the feather pointed the way to the Nature Wonder Trail, and there she caught a glimpse of the "Little People,"—the only true American fairies.[Pg 18]

All kids who live close to Mother Earth come to recognize and see the fairies of the flowers, the woods, the rocks, and the waters.

These fairies are called the Jo gah oh by the Iroquois, or "Little People," because they are tiny. The Little People can do amazing things. They can do whatever they want. They can fly through the air. They can zip under or through the water, dive into the ground and move through the rocks, whenever they like, because they wear invisible moccasins and travel in flying canoes.

Their tiny babies are carried on the little mothers' backs, just like an Indian papoose. The little fathers have amazing winged bows and arrows that can shoot as far as they want.[Pg 19]

[Pg 20]

The Little People bring good luck to the Native Americans. Whatever Native boys and girls wish for—if they wish hard enough, the Jo gah oh will bring it to them.

It is said that there are three tribes of these Little People—those that live in the rocks by streams and lakes, those that stay near the flowers and plants, and those that protect the dark places beneath the earth.

The Little People are really strong. They can pull up big trees and throw heavy rocks. Sometimes they challenge the Indians to a strength contest. They also enjoy playing ball with stones.

The Red Children are afraid of the Stone Throwers, as they refer to them. But they love the little beings that help the flowers bloom and the fruits and grains to grow and mature.

They remember these Little People during their Thanksgiving celebrations, because don’t the Jo gah oh help the sweet sap of the maple flow? Don’t they whisper to[Pg 21] the growing seeds and show them the way to the light? Don’t they guide the runners of the strawberries, turn the blossoms toward the sun, and make the berries red? They also color the grains and give corn its delicious flavor.

A third tribe of Little People lives underground. They protect the sacred white buffaloes and prevent the serpent monsters that dwell in the darkness below from coming to the surface to the Red Children.

There are paths that lead out to the sunlight, but the Little People guard them closely. Sometimes, though, a huge serpent[Pg 22] will discover the path to a spring, follow it, and poison the waters.

Often, at night, these dark elves come to the surface world to dance with the other Little People.

Wherever you discover a tree in a deep, dark area of the woods, where no grass will grow around it, you can be sure a dance circle has been made. There, the Little People have danced until the moon fell from the sky.

[Pg 23]

The old-time Indians say that a long time ago, the Little People made a rule that stories should not be told in the summer.

Summer is the time for work. Bees need to store their honey. Squirrels need to gather their nuts. People need to grow their corn. Trees and plants must leaf, flower, and bear their fruit.

If stories were shared, plants, birds, animals, and people would pause their activities to listen. This would lead to poor harvests and hungry individuals. Animals would neglect to grow their winter coats and prepare their winter supplies. Birds would miss the right time to head South.

The old Indians say that the storyteller who breaks this law of Jo gah oh will face some bad luck. Winter is the best time[Pg 24] to share stories, because that's when the work of animals, plants, and people is finished—and the Little People are sound asleep.

No, it's not safe to tell stories in the summer. You never know when a bird, a bee, or a butterfly might be listening and could inform the chief of the Little People. If the chief of the Little People gets upset, he might make something terrible happen to the person telling the story.

Last summer, the writer of these stories almost got transformed into an animal—or something worse—just for telling stories. So an old Indian said. She doesn’t know how she got away. She thinks it might be because she was a White Indian. Here’s how it went down.

It was the time of the Harvest Moon. Yeh sen noh wehs spoke for one of the tribes at their council house, and she shared some of these amazing stories.

All went smoothly until the middle of the night.[Pg 25] Then an elderly Indian came to warn her of her danger. Apparently, he had attended the council that evening and had heard many of the stories shared, most of which he was already familiar with.

He told Yeh sen noh wehs he had expected her to transform into something else right then and there. He said he wouldn’t dare to tell a story. "No, no, I’m scared, bad things will come!" he said.

Then he wanted to know if Yeh sen noh wehs was a real Indian. He had been told that she was a White Indian, but when he heard her tell the stories, he said he thought she was a real Indian.

When Yeh sen noh wehs told him that she didn’t have any Indian blood in her at all, he looked really serious. Finally, he spoke. He told the interpreter to tell her—for he only knew a few words of English—that the Great Spirit created a snake, a snake; a fox, a fox; a muskrat, a muskrat; a coon, a coon; a bear, a bear; [Pg 26] an Indian, an Indian; a White Indian, a White Indian. Each one must be a snake, fox, coon, bear, Indian, or White Indian, for as long as they live. Each must be themselves.

Then the old man asked what illness Yeh sen noh wehs had that made her wander around with a feather in her hair, acting like a true Indian, even though she was a White Indian.

Yeh sen noh wehs had no answer. And she doesn’t know to this day what saved her from being turned into a rabbit, a katydid, or something worse by the chief of the Little People. She knows, however, that she is very glad she is sharing the stories with you in the WINTER time.

[Pg 27]

The Iroquois Red Children are a thankful people. The true Iroquois never gets up after eating without saying, "Niaweh," which means, "I am thankful." The others reply, "Niuh,"—"It is well."

The Red Children never pick a flower without appreciating how kind the Great Spirit has been to make the flowers grow. They love flowers, and no matter how humble the Indian cabin is, there are always flowers nearby.

When the Iroquois pick fruit, they thank the Great Spirit. And they always leave some for the "little brothers of the wood."

They don't try to gather every cherry, berry, nut, or apple for themselves.[Pg 28] Fruits are there for the birds and animals as much as for people, and we shouldn't forget the little creatures of the woods. Some of everything that grows is left for them.

During the spring and summer, the Iroquois hold several thanksgiving feasts. The first one takes place early in the spring, during maple-sugar season. As soon as the sap starts to flow, the Maple Feast is announced.

The Indigenous people gather around a large maple tree. A fire is lit nearby, and one of them sprinkles tobacco onto it. As the smoke rises, a prayer of thanks is offered to the Great Spirit for allowing the sweet sap of the maple to flow. Then, they express gratitude to the maple trees for their service[Pg 29] to humans and ask for protection for the trees in the coming year.

When "the leaf of the dogwood is the size of a squirrel's ear," it's time to plant. Then an Indigenous woman goes into the fields and scatters some corn kernels, asking the Great Spirit for help with the harvest. The Indigenous person always plants their seeds with the waxing moon, so they can grow with the moon.

The next celebration is the Strawberry Feast and Dance.

The strawberry is one of the greatest gifts from the Great Spirit to his children. It's so valued that people believe it grows on the[Pg 30] Sky Road that leads to the Happy Hunting Ground. An Indian who has been very ill, close to death, will say, "I almost ate strawberries."

When the strawberries are ripe, the Red Children are filled with joy. They sing praises to the Great Spirit and dance happily. They think of the Little People who helped make the berries beautiful, and they have a song of gratitude and a dance to honor them too. Without the Little People's help, the strawberries wouldn't be as sweet and ripe.

At the time of the Harvest Moon, the last summer feast takes place. This thanksgiving celebration lasts four days. The Indigenous people not only give thanks for the ripening corn but also for everything that grows. That's why this feast is longer than the others; it takes time to acknowledge all the blessings from the Great Spirit to the Red Children and to express gratitude for each one.[Pg 31]

There is a story[1] about the corn in which the Spirit of the Corn is a young woman, not a handsome young chief, as one of the stories suggests. This Corn Maiden was one of three sisters and was named Ona tah.

The three sister vegetables—the corn, the bean, and the squash—were called the Di o he ko, which means "those we live on," since they are the life-sustaining vegetables.

These sisters lived together on a hill and were very happy. But one day Ona tah wandered off searching for dews for her kernels.

The Evil Spirit was watching. He captured Ona tah, the Spirit of the Corn, and sent one of his monsters to ruin her fields. The destructive winds rushed over the hill, and the spirits of the squash and beans fled from them.[Pg 32]

Ona tah was kept as a prisoner for a while in the darkness beneath the ground by the Evil Spirit.

At last, a sunbeam found her and guided her back to her lost hilltop. There she[Pg 33] discovered that her sisters had run away. She was alone.

Then Ona tah promised the sun that she would never leave her fields again. But she longs for her lost sisters and grieves for the damage that has befallen her once-beautiful fields. Ever since Ona tah wandered away and abandoned her land, the corn hasn't grown as tall or as beautiful as it used to.

[Pg 34]

In the past, tribes of Native Americans didn't always stay in one location like they do today. Sometimes they moved from one valley or forest to another. When they found a safe spot with clean running water and plenty of game and timber, they would set up their lodges and light their council fires.

There they could camp for one month or for several months. As long as their arrows brought in game from the nearby hunting trails, they would stay put. But if game became scarce or if, for any reason, [Pg 35] they didn't like the campsite, they would move on.

Sometimes they would travel several days before they found a camping spot they liked.

The first thing that was done in setting up a camp was to get a fire going and light the council fire. This fire was always kept burning. It never went out while they were there.

The Indigenous people cherished the fire. It was a blessing from the Great Spirit to the Red Children. It kept them warm and cooked their meals during the day, and provided protection at night.

A line of fires was kept burning around the camp. This protected the Red Children from wild animals, since all animals fear fire and are drawn to it. They might roam and howl all night outside the fire circle, but they would never try to enter that circle. There[Pg 36] the Indians could sleep peacefully, guarded by the spirits of the fire.

The first Indian to create fire became the chief and leader. When it was time to set up camp at a specific location, a signal would be given. This prompted the young warriors to dash into the woods to see who could bring back fire first. Each had his own secret method for making it. Typically, a bowstring was wrapped around a fire stick, and the stick was spun quickly in a groove. Within seconds, smoke would begin to rise from the sawdust that gathered. After a little fanning, a flame would burst into life.

The Indian who thought and acted the quickest and most accurately was considered the smartest and[Pg 37] the best person. He became a Firemaker and was appointed chief of the tribe. He could do something that others couldn't—at least he had shown himself to be more skilled. It was believed that such a person had a deeper understanding of everything, and so he could advise the rest of the tribe on what needed to be done.

He was no longer just a guy who ate and slept, walked and ran. He was a man with a mind. He could think and could act. So, he became a Firemaker chief, and he helped the tribe to think and take action.

The Iroquois Red Children believe that there are three types of people: those who only use their bodies; those who use both their bodies and minds; and those who utilize their bodies, minds, and spirits.

Now, sometimes an Indian became so kind and so great that he could ignite not only the visible fire but also the unseen fire—the fire of love that burns in people's hearts.[Pg 38]

[Pg 39]

When an Indian could create this kind of fire and warm the hearts of not just his own tribe but of all tribes, bringing them together in love, he was a great chief—a Peacemaker chief. This man would travel from tribe to tribe, teaching the people how to live so that everyone could enjoy peace and abundance, just like brothers.

To be a Peacemaker was the highest position an Indian could hold. Only a few Indians became Peacemaker chiefs, and they were the esteemed leaders of the tribe.

Indian women could also become Peacemakers. At one time, the Iroquois had a Peace Wigwam, where all disputes and arguments were resolved.

The most beautiful, just, and fair-minded woman from all the tribes was chosen to sit in this wigwam. It was her responsibility to manage the Peace fire and make sure it never went out. She also kept a pot of hominy constantly steaming over the fire.[Pg 40]

If two Native Americans had a disagreement, it was common for them to rush to the Peacemaker's hut. They would enter from opposite sides. Inside the hut, a deerskin curtain separated them from one another.

The Peacemaker would hear the complaints of one person and then the other. Then she would pull back the curtain, bring the opponents together, and resolve the conflict fairly.

The two would then eat the hominy and leave in peace—no longer enemies, but friends.

No country could go to war with another country without the approval of the Peacemaker. The peacewomen were wise, just, and kind, teaching men to love rather than fight each other, which is why the Iroquois enjoyed many years of peace.

But one day, it’s said, a Peacewoman broke her promise. She cared more about her own happiness than that of the nation.

This woman was incredibly beautiful, and everyone adored her. For a while, she sat in the Peace Wigwam and diligently took care of the Peace fire.

One day, an Oneida chief and a Cayuga chief started arguing. They went to the Peace Wigwam. As they walked in and saw the[Pg 42] young Peacewoman taking care of the fire, both thought they had never seen a woman so beautiful.

Into the heart of each of them surged the wish that she could take care of his campfire.

The Peacemaker listened to the argument between the young chiefs and resolved it fairly. Then each one tried to convince her to leave the Peace fire and come back to his lodge with him. But the Peacemaker said, "No, I have to take care of the fire; it must stay lit." The chiefs left feeling sad.

But the Oneida chief couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful woman. After a month, he went back to the Peace Wigwam. This time, he convinced the Peacemaker to leave her fire and come with him to sit at the door of his wigwam.

The Peace fire flickered and went out. The Iroquois went back to war, and for countless moons, they fought, suffered, and died.[Pg 43]

[Pg 44]

[Pg 45]

Long before Columbus arrived in America, the Native Americans were here. They were the first and only true Americans.

From the Big Sea Water in the east to the Big Sea Water in the west, these Children of the Sun, as they referred to themselves, gathered.

Happy and free like the sunlight and air around them, they raced through vast forests that belonged to them, or paddled their canoes up and down the streams.

Then the Native American had a dream. This was long before Columbus had his vision of the Western World.

In his dream, the Indian saw a huge White Bird coming from the east. Its wings were spread wide to the north and[Pg 46] south. With incredible strength and speed, it swooped toward the setting sun.

In both fear and awe, the Indian watched as this massive White Bird appeared and disappeared. He understood its significance, and his heart was heavy.

Then the White man arrived. From the Big Sea Water to the east he came, in his large white-sailed boat. With one hand pointing to the Great Spirit, and with the other reaching out to the Red man, he approached. He asked for a small seat. A seat the size of a buffalo hide would be more than enough for him, he said.

In the name of the Great Spirit, the Red Children welcomed the White man and called him "brother." They offered him the seat he requested. They also provided him with a large buffalo skin and showed him where he could lay it out by their council fire.

The white man took the buffalo skin. He thanked his Native American brother in the name[Pg 47] of the Great Spirit. Then he started cutting the skin into lots of small strips.

When the entire buffalo hide was cut into narrow strips, he tied them together. They formed a long cord that could stretch over a long path.

In awe, the Native Americans observed the White man as he marked out a space that was as long and wide as the cord could extend. The "small seat," about the size of a buffalo hide, turned into a piece of land.

Soon the White man asked for another seat. This time his seat overlooked the Indians' lodges and campfire. He asked the Indians if they could move on a few arrow lengths. They agreed.[Pg 48]

Then the White man wanted another seat. Each time it took a larger skin for him to sit on. This time the skin stretched so far that it covered part of the Indians' hunting and fishing grounds.

Again the Indians moved on. Again the White man followed. Each time his seat grew larger, until the Indian had a spot no bigger than a buffalo hide to sit on.

Thus it was that the White man came. Like a great White Bird that soared from the Atlantic Ocean in the east to the Pacific Ocean in the west, the White man came; and he pushed the Indian from the rising to the setting sun.

[Pg 49]

Many, many moons before the White man arrived, a young Indian boy was left in the woods. It was back when animals and humans understood each other better than they do today.

An old mother bear discovered the young Indian boy.

She felt really sorry for him. She told the little boy not to cry because she would take him home with her; she had a nice little cabin in the hollow of a big tree.

Old Mother Bear had two cubs of her own, but she had a space between her big paws for a third. She took the little papoose and hugged him tight and close. She fed him just like she did her own little cubs.

The boy got stronger. He was really happy with his adopted mom and brothers.[Pg 50] They lived in a cozy lodge in the hollow of a huge tree. As they got older, Mother Bear brought them all the honey and nuts they could eat.

From dawn to dusk, the little Indian boy played with his cub brothers. He didn’t realize he was different from them; he believed he was a little bear, too. All day long, the boy and the cubs played and had fun. They rolled, tumbled, and wrestled in the forest leaves. They chased each other up and down the bear tree.[Pg 51]

Sometimes they had a match of hugs, because every little bear needs to learn how to hug. The one who could hug the longest and the hardest won the game.

Old Mother Bear watched her three beloved cubs playing. She would have been happy and content, but for one thing. She was worried that something bad might happen to the boy. She could never fully forget the bear hunters. They had tracked her tree several times, but the wind had led them away from the scent.

Once, from her bear-tree window, she had tossed out rabbit fur as she saw the rabbits approaching. The wind carried the rabbit fur toward the hunters. As it landed near the hunters, it suddenly transformed into rabbits, and the hunters took off after them.

At another time, Mother Bear threw some partridge feathers into the wind as the hunters approached her tree. A flock[Pg 52] of partridges flew off into the woods with a loud noise, and the hunters chased after them.

But on this day, Mother Bear felt sad. She knew that the big bear hunters were coming. No rabbits or partridges could distract these hunters from the bear trail, because they had dogs with four eyes. (Foxhounds have a yellow spot over each eye that makes them look like they have two sets of eyes.) These dogs were never known to miss a bear tree. Sooner or later, they would catch the scent.

Mother Bear thought she could save herself and her cubs. But what would happen to the boy? She loved him too much to let the bear hunters kill him.[Pg 53]

Just then, the porcupine, the leader of the animals, walked by the bear tree. Mother Bear saw him and leaned out from the bear-tree window to call to him. He came and sat beneath the bear-tree window, listening to Mother Bear's story about her worries for the boy.

When she was done, Chief Porcupine said he would gather a council of the animals to see if they could save the boy.

Now the Chief had a powerful voice. As soon as he spoke up, even the animals far on the longest paths could hear him. They immediately rushed over and gathered under the council tree. There was a loud roar,[Pg 54] and a great flapping of wings, because the birds came as well.

Chief Porcupine told them about Mother Bear's fears and the danger to the boy.

"Now," said the Chief, "which one of you will take the boy and save him from the bear hunters?"

It happened that some animals were present who were jealous of humans. These animals had held several secret meetings to figure out how they could get rid of him. They claimed he was becoming too powerful. He knew everything they knew—and more.

The beaver didn’t like humans because they could build better homes than he could.

The fox said that humans had taken his cleverness and could now outsmart him.

The wolf and the panther opposed humans because they could hide themselves and attack with more certainty than they could.[Pg 55]

[Pg 56]

The raccoon said that humans were bolder and could climb higher than he could.

The deer complained that humans could outrun him.

So when Chief Porcupine asked who would take the boy in and look after him, each of the animals said in turn that they would be happy to do it.

Mother Bear sat nearby and listened as each one offered to take care of the boy. She didn’t say anything, but she was thinking a lot—for a bear. Finally, she spoke.

To the beaver, she said, "You can't take the boy; you'll drown him on the way to your lodge."

To the fox, she said, "You can’t have him; you’d just teach him to cheat and steal while pretending to be a friend. Neither can the wolf or the panther have him, because they’re just looking forward to having something good to eat."

"You, deer, lost your upper teeth for[Pg 57] eating human flesh. And, also, you have no home; you are a wanderer."

"And you, raccoon, I can't trust, because you'd persuade him to climb so high that he'd fall and die."

"No, none of you can have the boy."

Now a large bird that lives in the sky had swooped down into the council tree while the animals were talking. But they hadn’t noticed him.

When Mother Bear finished speaking, this wise old eagle flew down and said, "Give the boy to me, Mother Bear. No bird is faster or stronger than the eagle. I will keep him safe. With my mighty wings, I will carry him far away from the bear hunters.

"I'll take him to my Indian friend's wigwam, where they're looking for a little Indian boy."

Mother Bear looked into the eagle's sharp eyes. She noticed that he could see a long way.[Pg 58]

Then she said, "Take him, eagle, I trust you with him. I know you'll keep the boy safe."

The eagle spread his massive wings. Mother Bear set the boy on his back, and they took off, far from the council woods.

The eagle left the boy, as he had promised, at the door of a wigwam where a young Native American boy was needed.

This was the first young American to be rescued by an American eagle.

The boy grew up to be a respected chief and an excellent hunter. No hunter could track a bear trail as quickly as he could, since he knew exactly where and how to find the bear trees. But he was never known to cut down a bear tree or to kill a bear.

However, there were many wolf, panther, and deer skins hanging in his lodge. The hunter's wife sat and made warm coats out of the fox and beaver skins[Pg 59] that the hunter had brought in from the hunt. But the hunter, his wife, and their children were never seen wearing a bear-skin coat.

[Pg 60]

It was a really long time ago when the earth was still very young. Trees and flowers were everywhere, but there were no birds. One morning, the Great Spirit pulled back the blanket from the door of his tent in the sky. He looked down at the earth and smiled because he saw that his work was good.

"Today," he thought, "I will create big butterflies that will flit in and out among the beautiful trees and flowers of the earth. They will sing as they fly."[Pg 61]

Then the Great Spirit spoke, and the treetops were filled with birds—but they had no feathers.

All day he watched them fly and listened to their songs. But their bare bodies and long legs didn't appeal to him. Before the sun set, he had made feathered outfits, in every size and color, to cover them.

That night, as the birds tucked their heads under their wings, the Great Spirit spoke to them. He talked about the feathered outfits he had created for them and where they could be found.

A meeting was called the next day by the birds. They chose Gah gah go wah, the Turkey Buzzard, to fetch the suits. He could fly a long distance without getting tired.

The birds told him that if he went, he could pick first from the suits of feathers, but he could only try on each suit once.[Pg 62]

Turkey Buzzard promised and headed towards the setting sun. The sun set twice and rose three times before he found the feathered outfits. There were many of them, and they were stunning. He couldn't decide which one he wanted to wear the most.

Then he remembered that he could try on each feather suit once. So he started putting them on.

The feathers of the first suit were too long. They dragged on the ground as he walked. He also couldn’t fly well in them. Turkey Buzzard put that suit aside.

The next suit sparkled like gold. The feathers were a stunning yellow. Turkey Buzzard put it on and strutted back and forth in the forest.

"Oh, how good-looking I am!" he said. "But I can’t keep this, because if I did,[Pg 63] I would shine so brightly like the face of the Great Spirit that all the other birds would notice me."

And he quickly took off the suit of yellow feathers.

A third outfit was made of pure white feathers. Turkey Buzzard thought it looked really beautiful. It fit perfectly.

"But it'll get dirty too quickly," he said. "I won't choose this."

And this was set aside, too.

There weren't enough feathers in the fourth suit. Turkey Buzzard shivered from the cold. It just wasn't warm enough. He refused to accept it.

There were too many feathers and too many parts in the fifth outfit. It took too long to get it on. Turkey Buzzard didn’t want that.

So he moved from one suit to another, trying them on and taking them off. He always found some new issue. Something[Pg 64] was off with each one. Nothing really satisfied him. No suit felt just right.

At last, there was only one suit left. It wasn't nice. It was a plain, dull color—and really short on feathers at the neck and head. Turkey Buzzard put it on. He didn't like it. It didn't fit him well; it was cut too low in the neck. Turkey Buzzard thought it was the ugliest suit of all. But it was the last suit, so he wore it.

Then Gah gah go wah, the Turkey Buzzard, picked up the suits and flew back to the bird lodge. He was still wearing the plain, dull-colored suit.

The birds called another meeting. Each one was instructed to pick a suit from those that Gah gah go wah had brought and wear it. They did just that.

Then the birds in their colorful feathered outfits started to walk and fly around[Pg 65] the Turkey Buzzard, making fun of his simple, drab appearance.

But Gah gah go wah held his head high. He walked proudly among the birds. He looked down on their beautiful outfits. After a while, he spoke.

He said, "Gah gah go wah, the Turkey Buzzard, doesn’t want your suits. He had his pick of all of them. He prefers his own suit the most."

[Pg 66]

It was after the Great Spirit had created all the beautiful birds that the Evil Spirit showed up. He saw the stunning birds and heard their lovely songs. He noticed that the people on earth appreciated the birds and enjoyed listening to them sing.

Now the Evil Spirit didn’t want people to be happy, so he said, "I will create a bird that will frighten people. I will create a big bird that won’t sing, but will make a loud noise."

So the Evil Spirit got to work. Before long, he had created a large bird that couldn't sing but could drum.[Pg 67]

The big bird flew off into the woods. That night, a drumming sound could be heard in the woods. The people were scared. They couldn't sleep because of the noise.

In the morning, they went into the woods to find out where the noise was coming from. Deep in the forest, that strange drumming could still be heard. They followed it until they reached a deep, dark spot in the woods. There was a loud fluttering and whirring of wings, and a large bird flew out from among them, across the ground and over the trees.

The people were scared. They called out to the Great Spirit for help.

The Great Spirit was close. He heard their call and went after the bird, as he was very angry.

The Great Spirit said, "I will not let my people be afraid of this giant bird; it will be killed."

The big bird gave the Great Spirit a[Pg 68] long chase. Finally, the Great Spirit caught up to it. He grabbed it and tossed it against a large tree.

As the big bird hit the tree, splashes of blood flew everywhere. They transformed into smaller birds that zipped into the woods, just like the big bird had. There, they started to drum.

Like the big bird, these smaller birds enjoy surprising people. They flutter out from under the leaves, and with a whirring sound, they fly deep into the woods. There, they settle on an old log or a rock and drum with their wings.

Some people on Earth say they're drumming for their partners. But others still believe that the birds drum to scare people.

So this is how the Native Americans say the partridges came to be. This is why they drum, and why some of the kids of the earth still love to hunt partridges.[Pg 69]

A long, long time ago, some Native Americans were running along a path that led to a village. While they were running, a rabbit jumped out of the bushes and stopped in front of them.

The Indians stopped, because the rabbit still sat in front of them and didn’t leave the trail. They shot their arrows at him, but the arrows returned without a trace of blood.

A second time, they notched their arrows. This time, there was no rabbit in sight. Instead, an old man appeared on the trail. He looked frail and unwell.

The old man asked them for food and[Pg 70] a place to rest. They wouldn’t listen but continued on to the settlement.

Slowly, the old man followed them down the path to the wigwam village. In front of each wigwam, he saw a hide hung on a pole. He recognized that as the symbol of the clan to which the people in that wigwam belonged.

First, he stopped at a wigwam where a wolf skin was hanging. He asked to come in, but they wouldn't allow him. They said, "We don't want any sick men here."

On he went toward another hut. Here a turtle's shell was hanging. But this family wouldn’t let him in.

He tried a shelter where he saw a beaver skin. He was told to keep going.

The Native Americans who lived in a wigwam[Pg 71] where a deer skin was displayed were just as unfriendly. He was also not allowed to enter wigwams where hawk, snipe, and heron skins were hanging.

At last, he arrived at a hut where a bear skin was hanging.

"I'll ask again for somewhere to rest," he thought.

And here lived a kind old woman. She brought him food to eat and laid out soft blankets for him to lie on.

The old man thanked her. He said he was very sick. He told the woman which plants to collect in the woods to help him get better.

This she did, and soon he was better.

A few days later, the old man got sick again. Once more, he instructed the woman on which roots and leaves to pick. She followed his instructions, and soon he was better.

Many times the old man got sick. Each time he had a different illness. Each time he told the woman which plants and herbs to gather to heal him. Each time she remembered what he had said.

Soon, this woman from the Bear clan knew more about healing than everyone else.

One day, the old man told her that the Great Spirit had sent him to Earth to teach the Native people the secrets of healing.

"I arrived, sick and hungry, at many a wigwam door. No blanket was pulled aside for me to enter. You alone lifted the blanket from your wigwam door and invited me in.

You belong to the Bear clan, so[Pg 73] all the other clans will come to the Bear clan for help when they're sick.

"You will teach all the clans which plants, roots, and leaves to gather so the sick can be healed."

"And the Bear will be the greatest and strongest of the clans."

The Indian woman raised her face to the Great Spirit to thank him for this amazing gift and the knowledge of healing. When she looked back at the man, he was gone.

No one was around, but a rabbit was darting quickly down the path.

[Pg 74]

[Pg 75]

A fox was running through the woods near a river, holding a fish in his mouth.

The fish had been taken from an Indian who lived further down the stream. The fox was passing by the Indian's hut when he noticed the fish hanging by the fire. It was cleaned and ready to be cooked.

"What a delicious breakfast!" thought the fox. "I think I'll watch the man eat."

Soon the Indian went into the cabin. The fox sneaked up to the fire. He grabbed the fish and ran away with it.

When the Indian returned, there was no breakfast. The fish was gone. No fox was in sight.

The fox ran along, feeling very proud of himself.[Pg 76]

"What a clever fox I am," he laughed. "I'll pull another clever trick. This time it will be on the bear I see approaching."

He ran up a tree that had been bent halfway to the ground by the West Wind. There, he started to eat his fish. He smacked his lips so loudly that the bear heard him.

The bear stopped under the tree and asked, "What are you eating that tastes so good?"

For an answer, the fox tossed down a piece of the fish. The bear licked his lips and shouted, "More! More!"

"Go to the river, swim out to the big log, and catch your own fish," called the fox. "It's really simple! Just dip your tail into the water. Hold it there until a fish comes by and bites, then pull it up. That's how I catch my fish. You can catch all the fish you want with your own tail."

The bear rushed to the river. He[Pg 77] swam over to the log and dipped his tail into the water, just like the fox had suggested.

All day he sat and fished with his tail—because bears had really long tails back then.

The sun went down, but no fish had bitten his line. All night, the bear sat on the log and fished. The cold North Wind blew its breath over the water. The river became calm and white.

Towards morning, the bear noticed that his tail was becoming really heavy. Finally, he was convinced he had caught a fish. He tried to pull it up. But unfortunately, his tail was stuck in the ice.

Then the fox showed up. He laughed hard and loud at the bear and asked if the fishing was any good.

Some dogs heard the fox and rushed through the dense underbrush. They spotted the fox and took off after him.

The fox cleverly guided them onto the frozen river toward the bear. The bear noticed them[Pg 78] approaching and told the fox to take a different route. The fox pretended not to hear and continued directly to the bear to ask what he had said.

The dogs jumped on the bear. The bear fought back. He made one big pull and got himself free from the ice. He swiped at the dogs so aggressively with his huge paws that they quickly abandoned him and chased after the fox.

Dogs have been chasing foxes ever since.

When the bear caught his breath, he stood up and looked at his tail. He realized he only had a small piece left. Most of his tail had been left in the ice.

This is why bears have short tails, and why dogs still love to chase the fox.[Pg 79]

Some moons after the council when the birds picked their feathered outfits, a second council was called. The purpose of this council was to determine which bird could fly to heaven and bring back a song for earth.

When all the birds had gathered and were sitting on the council tree, the wise old owl spoke.

"Friends and brothers, listen," said the owl. "Many of you have strong wings,[Pg 80] but your voices aren't beautiful. Up, up high in the sky, there’s a long path beyond the clouds, known as the Happy Hunting Ground."

"There live all our brothers of the forest, whom the Great Spirit has called. They sing songs more beautiful than anything heard on earth."

"The bird that can soar above the clouds will hear that song. It will bring a melody to the ground. Who will travel the Great Sky Trail and bring a song to earth? Who-whoo! Who-whoo! Who-whoo!"

At this, all the fast-flying birds soared into the sky. They circled around to display their agility. Then they vanished into the clouds.

But one by one, they fell to the ground; because when they reached the Great Sky Trail beyond the clouds, they were too exhausted to take it.

At last, the eagle soared and spread his massive wings.[Pg 81]

"Listen," he said, "because the Chief of Birds is speaking. No other bird is as fast and powerful as the eagle. He has flown around the world. He has soared to the edge of the earth. The eagle will travel the Great Sky Trail and bring the song to the ground."

A little brown thrush perched next to the eagle.

"Oh," he thought, "how I wish I could bring that song to life!"

But he was so little, and his wings were so exhausted!

Then an idea came to the little brown thrush. He hopped quietly to the back of the eagle and tucked himself into the thick feathers near the neck. The thrush was so small and light that the eagle didn’t even notice he was there. He had no clue that the little brown thrush was on his back—and the other birds didn’t say a word.

The eagle spread his massive wings. Higher and higher they soared. The council[Pg 82] woods became a tiny dot and then disappeared completely. Over, under, and through the clouds, they glided on and on along the Great Sky Trail.

At last, the eagle's strength started to wane. He could go no further. The magnificent wings of the king of birds could no longer flap the air. They dropped to his sides.

The small brown thrush felt the eagle shake and start to fall toward the ground.

Then away flew the little brown thrush. The air was so light it felt easy to fly. On and on he went, for he was not[Pg 83] tired. He had experienced a ride almost to heaven.

"Now," he thought, "I'll keep going and get the song."

For a while, the little brown thrush flew along the Great Sky Trail. Suddenly, the air felt alive with song. He realized he was getting close to the Happy Hunting Ground.

He listened. One song felt more beautiful to him than the others. Over and over, he listened. He picked up the notes. He sang them many times until he was sure he could bring the song back to earth.

Then he floated down, down, and down, through clouds, storms, and sunshine, back to Mother Earth.

Very happy, he flew toward the council wood. He was so filled with his beautiful song and the amazing Sky Trail that he felt he had to share his song right away.[Pg 84]

But when he got to the council woods, he didn't dare say a word! He remembered that he had taken his ride partway to heaven, and he knew the other birds were aware of it.

But that song! He has to sing it! He felt like his throat would burst if he didn’t sing!

So the little brown thrush flew off on his own into a deep, dark part of the woods. There, concealed by the underbrush and the bushes, he sang the song he had heard on the Great Sky Trail.

Men hearing it today say, "Listen, a hermit thrush! What a beautiful song! But he’s such a shy bird; you can hardly ever catch a glimpse of him."

They don't understand why he stays hidden. [Pg 85]

Every boy has wondered how there ended up being two of him.

Every girl has wondered how she ended up being a twin. Sometimes she's the good one, and sometimes she's the mischievous one.

The Native Americans say this is what happened.

The world was still new. There was no land, just a sea that looked like clouds.

The sea was teeming with marine life, and birds soared overhead. Everything was shrouded in darkness. Light had not yet arrived.

Then the cloud-sea started to cry out for light. The Great Spirit listened and said, "It will be done. I will create a new place for humans to live in."

The Great Spirit summoned the beautiful Sky Mother to Him. Her face shone like the sun, and she was so joyful.[Pg 86]

The Great Spirit told Sky Mother to look down. She also heard the cloud-sea calling, and she said, "I will go."

As she started to come down, the animals noticed her approaching. "Look at the light," they shouted. "Where will it land?"

One of the water animals said, "I’ll dive to the bottom of the sea and find something for it to rest on."

He went down, but he never returned.

Other animals followed him. But they also didn’t return.

Then the muskrat said, "I will go. I will be the one to bring the land."

He came back with some mud in his mouth and on his claws.

"It'll grow quickly," he said, in a faint voice. "Who will take it?"

The turtle offered his back. As the muskrat put the mud on the turtle's shell, he died. But the beaver showed up and slapped the mud down with his tail.[Pg 87]

The mud on the turtle's back grew really quickly. Soon, it became a small island. The turtle became the earth bearer and has been holding up the earth ever since.

Now, when the sea swells in huge waves, or the earth trembles, the Indigenous people say, "The turtle is stretching. It's moving its back!"

Now, since there was a spot for the light to land, the birds flew up to greet it. They discovered that the light was the beautiful Sky Mother.

Then the birds spread their large wings wide and carried the Sky Mother through the air to the sea of clouds. They set her down on the island on the turtle's back. The Sky Mother had rested for a while when she felt something moving inside her. She heard voices—one soft and kind, filled with love, and the other rough and argumentative.[Pg 88]

Soon the Sky Mother gazed into the faces of the firstborn of earth, for she had given birth to the twin brothers, the spirits of Good and Evil. As she looked into the face of the Good Mind, she said, "You shall be called the Light One."

Then she looked into his brother's face and said, "You will be called the Dark One."

The island turned into a beautiful place.

The twin brother Light One grew up happy, loving, peaceful, and kind. He wanted to make the new land the most beautiful place to live. The twin brother Dark One grew up sullen, quarrelsome, hateful, and unkind. He tried to make the land the worst place to live.

From his mother's beautiful face, the Light One created the sun. He placed it in the eastern sky so it could shine forever. Then the Dark One cast darkness[Pg 89] in the west to chase the sun from the sky.

The Light One returned his mother’s body to the earth, the Great Mother from which all life emerges. He created towering mountains and dressed them in forests from which beautiful rivers flowed. The Dark One toppled the mountains, twisted the forests, and reshaped the rivers that his brother had created.

Every beautiful thing that the good brother Light One created, the bad brother Dark One attempted to destroy and ruin.

And because the first beings on earth were the twin spirits, the Good Mind and the Evil Mind, every boy and girl who has come into the world since then has been born with both a good and a bad spirit.

So the Indians say![Pg 90]

There was once an Indian boy who believed he knew more and could do more than anyone else. He was so proud of himself that he walked around like a great chief wearing a war shirt decorated with many scalp locks.

The other Indian boys and girls called him Spread Feather because he walked around like a big turkey or a peacock.

One day, Spread Feather was playing ball with the other boys. He had never failed to throw or catch the ball with his crosse stick. He had thrown the ball so hard twice that someone got hurt.

Spread Feather grew increasingly proud of himself as he played. He started using tricks and boasting a lot.[Pg 91]

[Pg 92]

"No one can play ball like me," he said. "I can catch the fastest ball thrown. I can throw the ball into the sky. I can run faster than a deer."

Spread Feather bragged so loudly that a rabbit heard him. The rabbit came out of the bushes and sat up on his hind legs. He watched Spread Feather play and listened to his bragging.

Soon, a strange boy was standing where the rabbit had been.

The stranger said to Spread Feather, "I want to play ball with you."[Pg 93]

"Come on, then!" the cocky boy teased. "Spread Feather will show the weird ball player how to catch a ball."

They started to play.

The stranger could run like a deer. His balls were so quick and so curved that Spread Feather couldn't see them. He couldn't catch one. They seemed to come from the sky.

At last, one ball hit Spread Feather in the mouth. He fell to the ground. His face was red with anger, and his lips were red with blood.

He jumped up and yelled at the stranger, "Even though I don’t like the taste of your ball, I can still throw you."

"Alright, then," said the stranger. "We'll play a game of 'Catch as catch can.'" This is the Indian name for a wrestling game.

Spread Feather planted his feet firmly on the ground.[Pg 94]

"My legs are as strong as a bear's," he boasted.

They started to wrestle. Soon, Spread Feather's arms dropped to his sides. He gasped for air. He had no breath and no strength.

The stranger picked up Spread Feather and threw him over his head like a ball. The boy landed without saying a word.

When Spread Feather opened his eyes, a rabbit jumped into the bushes.

All night, Spread Feather lay there, thinking and thinking. He felt too weak and too sore to go back to his hut. He also didn’t want to face the other boys.

At sunrise, a rabbit hopped nearby. The rabbit slyly suggested that he might want to play another game of ball.

The boy sat up and said to the rabbit, "Spread Feather is gone. He doesn’t flaunt like a turkey anymore. He has nothing to say. He will get a new name. It won’t be Spread Feather."[Pg 95]

The land was dry and starving. The Old Man of the North Lodge had breathed on the valley. His breath had frozen the crops, and there was no bread for the people.

The Indian hunters started the chase. They tracked every sign of deer or rabbit. If their arrows brought back meat, they tossed it over their shoulders and ran to the village so that the hungry women and children could eat.

But one Indian stayed in his cabin. He sat by the fire with his wife and child, waiting for the hunters to bring back some game.

This guy refused to go hunting. He was lazy. All day, he sat by the fire and smoked his pipe. Occasionally, he stirred the water in the kettle[Pg 96] that he kept boiling for the meat he hoped the hunters would bring. Whenever his little son begged him for food, he would say, "It's not ready yet."

At last, the little Indian boy became so weak and faint from lack of food that he cried out loudly.

The lazy Indian father was angry. He grabbed the pudding stick and hit the child to the ground. Suddenly, a bird flew up and landed on the pole over the fire, from which the kettle hung.[Pg 97]

"Now it's done!" said the bird seriously, as it didn’t appear to have a light heart like other birds.

Now, as strange as it may seem, this father was no longer cruel and lazy. His lazy attitude seemed to have vanished. He wanted to set off immediately to hunt for food for his wife and little boy.

"Tonight you’ll have deer meat for dinner," he said, as he laid a soft skin by the fire for the boy to lie on. Then he turned to put the child on the skin—but there was no boy. He had no son. Only that odd bird sat, joyless and alone, over the fire, on the pole from which the kettle hung.

"Now it's done!" the bird shouted again, and with that, it flew out of the tent.

That spring, the Indigenous people found a new bird in the woods. The bird was too lazy to make an actual nest.[Pg 98]

This bird didn't build a cozy, warm, safe nest for its eggs and young like other birds do with twigs, moss, leaves, ferns, bits of hair, and thistledown. Instead, this bird would lay its eggs anywhere. Wherever a few sticks were crossed on a path, or in a small dip in the ground, or where some twigs or dried ferns were loosely caught in a bush, that's where this lazy bird would lay its eggs and raise its young.

It was too lazy to build a proper nest that was safe and warm for its babies.

The Indigenous people called the bird "the cuckoo." However, only one person from that community knew how the cuckoo came to be and why it is too lazy to build a proper nest.[Pg 99]

A wise old raccoon sat in a tree by the river where the bear lost his tail. The raccoon saw the fox pull his clever trick on the bear, and he didn’t like it.

"The fox is getting a big ego," said the raccoon. "This can't happen. His ego needs to be toned down. We need to take some of that cleverness out of him. He's becoming too crafty. He thinks he has the smarts of all the animals and that no one can outsmart him. Someone has to pull a 'fox' trick on him."

Not long after, the raccoon spotted the fox coming down the path. The raccoon was enjoying some tasty yellow apples he had found on a nearby tree. As soon as he saw the fox, he climbed up a tree,[Pg 100] and started licking his lips just like the fox had done to lure the bear.

The fox paused under the tree, just like the bear had.

"What tastes so good?" he asked.

For an answer, the raccoon tossed an apple to the fox, just like the fox had tossed a piece of fish down to the bear.

The fox grabbed the apple and ate it.

"Okay! Okay!" said the fox, after he finished the last bite. "Where did you get it?"

The raccoon then told the fox how to find the apple tree. He needed to follow the path along the river, down to the pine bluff. Then he had to climb the bluff and run toward the setting sun until he reached an open field. In the center of[Pg 101] that field stood a huge apple tree. It was full of juicy yellow apples.

"But you can climb the tree and pick your own apples. How can I get them off the tree?" complained the fox.

"Oh, that's simple," said the raccoon. "Just step back two arrow shots from the tree, then lower your head—like this. Run fast and slam your head into the tree. You have such a big head that it will shake the tree hard enough for all the apples to drop at once. Do what I say, and you'll have all the apples you want for a long time."

The fox thanked the raccoon and immediately set off.

He found the apple tree, just like the raccoon had told him.

[Pg 102]

"What a great open area to run in," thought the fox. "I'll get such a good start that when I hit the tree, it will shake the world."

Already he began, in his mind, to see the apples falling, like pine needles, and to feel the ground shake under his feet.

The fox did what the raccoon told him. He backed off for the distance of an arrow flight, then another. Then he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and ran quickly over the thick grass. He hit the tree as hard as he could with his big head.

Not an apple dropped, but a confused, silly-looking fox fell to the ground.

Next morning, as the sun came up, a embarrassed fox was spotted running toward the woods beyond the pine bluff. He kept his head down and didn't seem to be trying any clever tricks.[Pg 103]

It was a while after the raccoon outsmarted the fox that they met again. The raccoon was hurrying by when the fox spotted him.

Now the fox hadn't forgotten the trick the raccoon had pulled on him. His head was still sore from that hard hit against the apple tree. So the fox took off after the raccoon. He was catching up and would have caught him, if they hadn't reached a tall pine tree.

The raccoon ran to the very top of the pine tree. There he was safe, because the fox couldn't climb.

The fox lay down on the soft pine needles and waited for the raccoon to come down. The raccoon stayed up in the pine tree for so long that the fox grew tired and[Pg 104] sleepy. He closed his eyes and thought he would take a quick nap.

The raccoon watched until he noticed that the fox was fast asleep. Then he picked up some pitch from the pine tree in his mouth. He climbed down the tree and smeared the pitch over the eyes of the sleeping fox.

The fox woke up. He jumped up and tried to catch the raccoon, but, unfortunately! he couldn't see what he was doing. His eyelids were stuck shut with pine gum. He couldn't open them.

The raccoon laughed at the fox's situation, then ran off and abandoned him.

The fox lay for a while under the tree. The pine sap, as it dried, kept sticking his eyelids tighter and tighter shut. He thought he might never see the sun again.

Some birds were singing nearby. He called to them and shared his troubles. He asked if they would be so kind as to open his eyes.[Pg 105]

The birds took off and spread the word to the other birds. Before long, many of the small dark songbirds returned to where the fox was lying. Then peck, peck, peck went their little beaks on the fox's eyelids. One by one, they carefully picked away the pine gum. If one got tired, another bird would step in.

At last, the fox saw a beam of light. Soon, one eye popped open, then the other. The sun was shining, and the world looked beautiful to the fox as he opened his eyes.

He was really thankful to the little birds for bringing him light. He told them to ask for anything, and he would give it to them.[Pg 106]

The little birds said, "We don't like the plain, dark suits that the Turkey Buzzard brought us. Make us look like the sun we brought to you."

The fox looked around. Bright yellow flowers were blooming nearby. He squeezed some of the sun's color from them and used the tip of his tail like a paintbrush to color the little dark birds to match the sun.

The birds flitted around with so much joy that he decided to paint their bodies first. Before he could add the paint for their wings and tails, each little bird shot away like a beam of sunlight. The birds were so happy and carefree that they couldn’t wait for the fox to finish the painting.

This is why goldfinches are yellow like the sun. It’s why they have black wings and tails, why they flutter around with joy, and why they never finish their song.[Pg 107]

Long ago, birds, trees, animals, and humans understood each other's language, and they could all communicate together.

In those days, the trees in the forest grew really big and strong. Eventually, they realized their strength all too well. They became selfish, proud, and argumentative. Every tree bragged that it was the greatest and strongest. Each one fought to claim the most soil, the best air, and the brightest sunlight. No tree considered the others.

One day, the trunk of a huge Maple tried to push out an Ash. The Ash, of course, believed he had just as much right to be there as the Maple, and he said he wouldn’t move an inch.[Pg 108]

"Move aside," yelled the Maple. "I'm more important than you, and I benefit humans more; I provide the sweet water for them to drink."

"Definitely not!" said the Ash. "I'm better than you and more useful to humans because I provide the strong wood they use to make their bows."

At this, the trees started wrestling. Back and forth, in and out they swayed, each trying to throw the other. They forgot that they were brothers in the forest.

Then the South Wind showed up. He heard the loud voices and paused to see what the argument was about.

"I am greater than you because I provide the fresh water for people to drink," came the angry voice of the Maple as he slammed his massive trunk against the Ash.

"No, you aren't," replied the Ash, pushing back the Maple with a strong elbow. "I am greater than[Pg 109] you because I provide the tough wood he uses to make his bow."

For a while, the South Wind observed them struggle and grapple, attempting to push each other to the ground. Then he said softly, "You, O Maple, don't cause the sweet water to flow for humans; nor do you, O Ash, make your wood grow flexible and strong for his bow."

"Who does, then?" they asked boldly.

"Listen," said the South Wind, "and you will hear."

Then the Maple and Ash forgot their argument. They leaned their heads in so closely to listen that one limb of the Maple slipped through a limb of the Ash.

And as they stood there listening, each with an arm linked to the other, the South Wind gently rocked them back and forth. Then a voice was heard, singing, "San noh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!" which means, "The Mother of all things."

Thus it was that the Ash and the Maple learned that it was Mother Earth who gave them their life, power, and strength, and that they were brothers because they had one Mother.

The Ash and the Maple shared the secret with the birds. The birds came, listened to the message, and then went to tell the animals. The animals gathered to listen, and then they went and informed the humans. And so, all the children of the earth learned that there is one Great Mother of every living thing, and that everyone is connected as siblings.

And now, whenever two trees embrace affectionately, and the South Wind gently sways them back and forth, that same voice can be heard, singing, "San noh-eh! San noh-eh! San noh-eh!"[Pg 112]

An Indian woman built a wigwam in the deep woods. She was a courageous woman. She had no fear.

One night, she heard something approaching along the trail. Thump, thump, thump, it came, right up to the door of her hut.

There was a rap song.

"Come in," said the woman, but no one came in.

Again there was a knock.

Again the woman called, "Come in." Again the latch wasn't lifted.

A third time the knock came. A third time the woman called, "Come in," but no one came in.

Then the odd thump, thump, thump was heard coming down the trail.[Pg 113]

The next night, the same thing happened. Soon after dark, the woman heard the thump, thump, thump, coming down the trail. It came right up to the door of the wigwam.

Three times, there was a knock, knock, knock, just like before. Three times the woman replied, "Come in," but no one came inside.

Then the same odd thump, thump, thump, was heard coming down the trail again.

The third night, the woman decided she would find out who was calling. She stood there for a long time, her hand on the latch.

At last, she heard the visitor approaching. Thump, thump, thump, it came down the path. There were three knocks.

"Come in," the woman called, but the latch didn't budge in her hand. She waited. Again, the knocking sounded.

This time she flung the door wide open,[Pg 114] and there was a huge black bear. He bared his sharp teeth and growled, "Are you home?"

The woman looked him directly in the eye and replied, "I'm at home."

At that moment, the bear spun around and hurried down the trail as fast as he could.

Never again did the woman hear that weird thump, thump, thump; and never again did the bear check to see if she was home.

[Pg 115]

Once upon a time, the Great Spirit left the Happy Hunting Ground and came to Earth. He took on the appearance of a poor, hungry man. He went from one wigwam to another, asking for food.

Sometimes he found the Native Americans sitting around the fire, sharing stories and discussing the Great Spirit. Then the man would pass by unnoticed.

One day, he arrived at a hut where a woman was making cakes.

"I’m really hungry," the man said. "Could you please give me a cake?"

The woman glanced at the man, then at the cake. She realized it was too big to share.[Pg 116]

She said, "I won't give you this cake, but I can bake you one if you're willing to wait."

The hungry man said, "I'll wait."

Then the woman took a small piece of dough, shaped it into a cake, and baked it. But when she pulled this cake from the coals, it was bigger than the first.

Again the woman looked at her cake. Again she saw it was too big to give away. Again she said, "I won't give you this one, but I can bake you another one if you wait."

Again the man said, "I will wait."

This time, the woman took a really, really small piece of dough and shaped it into a cake.

"Surely, this will be small enough to give away," she thought, yet when it was baked, it turned out to be bigger than both the others.[Pg 117]

The woman stood and gazed at the three cakes. Each one was too big to give away.

"I won't give you any of the cakes," she told the man. "Go to the woods and find your food in the bark of trees."

Then the man got up and tossed aside his tattered blanket and worn moccasins. His face shone like the sun, and he was incredibly handsome. The woman backed away into the shadow of the wigwam. She couldn't look at his face because it was too bright.

"I am the Great Spirit," he said, "and you are a selfish woman. Women should be kind, generous, and selfless. You will no longer be a woman living in a cozy wigwam, baking plenty of cakes. You will go into the forest and hunt your food from the bark of trees. Summer and winter, you will eat worms the same size as the cake you could have made for me."

The woman started to shrink more and[Pg 118] more. Feathers developed on her body, and wings emerged from it. The Great Spirit touched her head, and it turned red.

"From now on, you will always wear this red hood," he said, "as a sign of your shame. You will always hide from others. You will always search for tiny worms, the size of the cake you made for me."

At that moment, a loud cry rang out, and a bird flew into the fireplace of the wigwam and up the chimney. As it flew out of the chimney, the soot left those long black streaks we now see on the woodpecker's back.

Ever since then, this woodpecker has had a red head and has been hiding from people on the other side of the tree trunk, drilling into the bark for little worms.[Pg 119]

A long time ago, at the edge of a certain lake, there lived a tribe of evil Native Americans. These people were so fierce, combative, and destructive that they went around ruining everything.

They destroyed a beautiful area of forest trees for no reason. They ripped up shrubs and plants that provided them with food and medicine. They shot their arrows at every bird or animal they saw, just for fun.

The big trees—their quiet companions in the forest—shivered and sighed when they noticed the Indians approaching. The [Pg 120] squirrels raced into hollow trees, and birds took flight in panic at their footsteps. The deer and rabbits bolted from the path.

At last, the Great Spirit became really angry with this tribe. He had always taught the Indians never to kill an animal unless it was for food or protection; never to cut down a tree unless it was for fuel or shelter; and never to uproot shrubs or plants unless it was for a good reason.

"All life," the Great Spirit had said, "is sacred and beautiful. It must not be wasted."

And he had never seen the Native Americans waste the beautiful living things around them before. The Great Spirit was very sad.

The ice got really thick on the lake that winter.

One night, a huge storm hit with strong winds and rain. The ice broke free from the shores, and the wind blew it[Pg 121] down the lake. At the bottom of the lake, a large pile of ice stacked high over the shore, where these careless Indians lived.

Like a massive roof, the ice covered the small Indian village resting quietly, but the Indians were oblivious. They continued to sleep, unaware of the danger, as a deep, heavy slumber had taken hold of them.

Just as the sun rose, the ice roof collapsed and fell on the sleeping Indians, crushing them in their huts.

The harm they had caused to their forest brothers brought punishment upon them. The Great Spirit destroyed these evil Indians so that the good Indians could keep his world beautiful.

Ever since, for as long as the Native Americans lived in the land, before the White man arrived, no trees were cut down, and no animals or birds were harmed, unless it was for a good and practical reason.[Pg 122]

At one time, the animals had tribes and leaders, just like humans. It was during the time that the porcupine was the leader that a council was convened.

A big fire was lit, since it was night. When all the animals were gathered around the fire, the porcupine spoke.

"Friends," he said, "we've gathered here to decide something important: 'Should we have night all the time or day?'" At this, all the animals started speaking at once. It was chaotic. The night animals shouted, "Night, night! Always night!" Some of the other animals cried, "Day, day! Always day!" Still others called for "Day and night!"[Pg 123]

There was so much noise that it was impossible to decide what was best.

At last, the animals got tired of calling. One by one, their voices faded, and the shouting stopped. Among the nighttime animals, only the bear's voice remained. He had a deep voice and continued to shout, "Night, night! Always night!"

The animals who wanted daylight all the time, and those who wanted both day and night, also fell silent—everyone except the chipmunk. He continued to chatter, "We'll have light—and then night. We'll have light—and then night. Chee, chee, chee!"

Then the bear got tired, too. He was chubby and lazy, and so sleepy! He decided to take a short nap.

But all night long, the alert little chipmunk kept his song going. Not once did he take a break. From the darkness, his voice rang out, confident and cheerful, "We will[Pg 124] have light—and then night. We will have light—and then night! Chee, chee, chee!"

And before the animals realized it, the sun started to rise.

At the first light of dawn, the bear sat up, blinked, and rubbed his eyes. He realized that while he had been sleeping, the light had truly arrived. He understood that he and the night animals had lost in the council, and that the chipmunk and the animals who wanted both day and night had triumphed.

The bear was really mad. He swiped at the chipmunk with his paw. But he was awkward, and the chipmunk was quick!

The chipmunk laughed and jumped into a hole in a nearby hollow tree. But those black stripes on the chipmunk's back show where the paw of the black bear brushed against him as he slipped into the tree.

Ever since this council and the little chipmunk shouted for "light and night" so long and loud, we've had day and night.[Pg 125]

Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow were two young Indian boys. They lived by Singing River and played from sunrise to sunset. They were as happy as could be.

In the summer, they fished and swam in Singing River, and they shot their arrows into chipmunk and woodpecker holes. Sometimes they played "Dodging Arrows," a game their mom had taught them when they were really little.

In the winter, they dove into soft snowdrifts and rolled around until their little bronze bodies turned a reddish-raspberry color. Then they would send their snow-snakes gliding over the hard snow crust.[Pg 126]

Snow-snakes were small sticks of wood, polished to a smooth finish with resin, oil, or wax. They could be thrown over long distances. Long Moose—Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel's dad—could throw a snow-snake a mile and a half, over the hard crust of the snow. However, the snow-snakes he used were eight feet long and had lead tips.

It was the Berry Moon. Six times had Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow seen the Berry Moon rise in the night sky. And not once in all their lives had they argued.

One morning, Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow decided to have a foot race. They were going to run seven times. Flying Squirrel crossed the finish line first three times, and Lightning Bow beat him three times as well. For the seventh race, both claimed victory. Since no one saw them run, no one could determine the actual winner. This led to an argument between them.[Pg 127]

[Pg 128]

Louder and louder, their voices grew. They became angrier and angrier.

White Fawn, their mother, was baking cornbread on the coals of the wigwam fire. The angry voices reached her ears. She stepped to the door.

"For shame!" she shouted. "Go and set up your sticks."

Then she showed Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel how to set up three sticks so they would stay in place for several days.

"Now go into the woods, set up your sticks, and leave your argument there," she said. "When the Berry Moon has passed, you can come back and see if the sticks are still standing."

"If they lean toward the rising sun, Lightning Bow was correct. If they lean toward the setting sun, Flying Squirrel was the winner. If they have fallen down, neither was correct and neither won."[Pg 129]

Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel went into the woods and set up their sticks. Then they started throwing balls with willow wands, and soon they were happy again.

The sun had come up and gone down many times. The Berry Moon had come and gone. It was the Thunder Moon, and White Fawn said to Lightning Bow and Flying Squirrel, "Today you can go into the woods and check if your sticks are still standing."

Hand in hand, the two young Indian boys dashed into the woods. They discovered nothing but a pile of decaying branches.

Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow stood and stared at the sticks. They kept thinking and thinking.

"What did we set up the sticks for?" each one asked the other.

And no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't remember what they had argued about or why they had set up the sticks![Pg 130]

Once, a tribe of the Iroquois became extremely aggressive and ruthless. They preferred to pursue the path of war instead of the trails for hunting.

These warriors focused solely on the war dance. They forgot to show gratitude for the sweet waters of the maple and for the planting season. They also didn’t remember to celebrate the Great Spirit, in song and dance, for the juicy strawberries and the swaying green corn, as they once had.

To fight was their only desire in life, the single thought that consumed their minds. They bragged that no one was as fierce and bloodthirsty as they were.

"Our arrows fall like pine needles,"[Pg 131] they said, "and they’re always red with blood. Our war shirts are decorated with many scalp locks."

One day, a conflict broke out with a neighboring tribe from their nation. The Peace Wigwam was nearby, but these warriors refused to take their argument there, as was the tradition. The fighting Indians wanted nothing to do with the Peace Wigwam.

"Let the women and kids sit in the sun at the door of the Peace Wigwam," they said mockingly. "Chiefs are for the battlefield."[Pg 132]

A loud scream rang out, and the war dance started. The chiefs painted their bodies, put on their war shirts, sharpened their tomahawks, prepared their arrows, and tightened their bowstrings.

But by the time they were ready, the sun had set, and darkness had enveloped them. A meeting was quickly called. They decided not to go to war until the moon rose. So the warriors lay down to sleep.

As they slept, another meeting was held. This wasn't a meeting of men, but of mice.

From long and short paths they came, hundreds and hundreds of mice, all having heard the warriors brag about their strength.

"Now," said the mice, "we'll show[Pg 133] these braggers how weak humans are, and how powerful little mice can be."

When all the mice were gathered around the council tree, the leader said: "My friends, listen! The Great Spirit didn’t give humans strength so they could fight and kill each other. The Great Spirit didn’t make humans powerful just to strike down and kill weaker animals. Let’s show these fierce warriors that it’s the weak who are strong and the strong who are weak. Let every mouse destroy at least one weapon before the moon rises."

At this, all the mice got to work. Snap, snap, snap, went the bowstrings all around. Then the little sharp teeth started on the feathers that decorated the poisoned arrows. Soon, the feathers were scattered in pieces all over the ground.

Next, the deerskin cords that held the slingshots were cut in two, and before the[Pg 134] moon had risen, every weapon had been rendered useless; every Indian had been disarmed,—and the mice had scurried away.

The warriors woke up. Once again, the war cry was shouted. They jumped to their feet and grabbed their weapons, only to find them useless. Their bows had no strings; their arrows had no wings; their slings had no cords.

The warriors who claimed to be the strongest and fiercest on earth had been brought to their knees by mice.

[Pg 135]

After the Great Spirit created the Red Children and blessed them with this beautiful land to live in, He sent them an incredible gift—the gift of corn.

Ga gaah, the Crow, claims he was the one who brought this gift. He says he was summoned to the wigwam of the Great Spirit in the sky. A grain of corn was put in his ear, and he was instructed to take it to earth, to the Red Children.

Therefore, as Ga gaah brought the gift, he claims he has a right to take whatever corn he needs. Ga gaah says he does not "steal" corn. He simply takes what belongs to him, his fair share.

And surely Ga gaah isn't greedy! He never takes more corn than he wants for himself. He never hides or stores it away. He takes just what he wants to eat at the[Pg 136] moment, and no more, because crows never think about tomorrow.

In summer, they’re joyful in the cornfields, protecting the roots from insect pests, and picking the tender blades whenever they're hungry.

But when winter arrives, the crows feel down. Many meetings are held. Sometimes a council tree is filled with crows. They are all so poor and so hungry that they come together to figure out a better way to survive.

There’s a lot of noise and chaos at a crow meeting because all the crows are talking at the same time. They’re all saying, “No bird is as poor as the crow; he’s always hungry. Next[Pg 137] summer, let’s plant and grow a large crop of corn, and store it for the winter. Next winter, crows won’t be hungry; they’ll have food.”

"We aren’t going to just take enough corn from the Red Children's fields for today’s meal anymore. We will grow our own corn and save some for the winter."

And after agreeing that this is a smart plan, the council concludes.

A few days later, another meeting will be held. During this, the crows will figure out how and where to plant the corn. Some will be in charge of choosing a field, others will look for seeds, and still others will plant and take care of the corn.

But when spring arrives, and the skies are blue, and the sun is shining warmly, the crows forget the hunger of winter and the discussions in the trees. They only remember that the skies are blue, the sun is warm, and there’s plenty of corn. [Pg 138]

Happy and content, they stroll back and forth through the fields of the Red Children.

"We have everything we want today," they say, "Why should we think about tomorrow or next winter? We had a decent meal this morning, and we're guaranteed one tonight. Isn't that enough for a crow? What more could he ask for?"

And the next winter arrives, finding the crows just as poor and hungry as they were last time. Once more, they are holding loud meetings in the council tree. Again, they are making plans for the big corn crop they will grow next summer!

[Pg 139]

The dog is the Indian's best friend. He is the buddy by day and the guardian by night. As long as the Indian's dog has strength, he will stand up for his friend.

The Indian says this is how the dog ended up playing his role.

An Indian and his dogs went into the woods to hunt. It was back when dogs and humans could talk to each other, and both understood each other’s language.

When they got to the woods, the dogs started chatting with the Indian. They shared a lot of amazing things about the woods that he didn’t know. They showed him various hunting tricks: how to smell and track the game, and where to find trails.[Pg 140]

The man paid attention to what the dogs said, and he followed their instructions. Before long, the sled that the dogs had pulled into the woods was stacked high with deer and other game.

Never had the Indian's arrows brought him so much game. Never had he had such success in hunting. He was so pleased that he said to the dogs, "I will always talk to you, listen to what you say, and be one of you."

"Hey, but listen!" said the dogs. "If you want to be one of us, you have to live by the rules of dogs, not humans. Animals have different laws than people do. When two dogs meet for the first time,[Pg 141] they test their strength to figure out which one is better."

"Men don’t fight when they meet strangers; they shake hands. Just as we battle strange dogs, you must also contend with unfamiliar men to determine who is the strongest—if you want to live by the rules of dogs."

The man said he would think it over and give his answer at sunrise. Native Americans always sleep on a decision before making it.

Next morning, the man said he would live by the rules of animals and battle unknown men.

The next day, the man got ready to leave the woods. He used the basswood to make a sturdy harness for the dogs, so they could pull the load of game back to the camp for him.

When the sun was high, the man and[Pg 142] the dogs began their journey with a sled full of game. They hadn't traveled far before they spotted two unfamiliar Indians approaching.

"Now," the dogs said to the man, "remember you're living by the dog's rules. You have to fight these strange men."

The man first attacked one Indian and then the other. Eventually, both of them turned on him, and when they were done, he was almost dead. At that point, the dogs got involved. They jumped on the Indians and chased them out of the woods. After that, they returned to where their friend was lying on the ground and began to talk to him and lick his face.

The man was silent for a while, but when he could finally speak, he told the dogs, "I no longer want to live by the law of animals. I won’t fight strangers anymore. From now on, I will greet strangers and welcome them. From now on, I will be a man and live by the law of men."[Pg 143]

"Then," the dogs said sadly, "we won’t be able to talk to you anymore or share the things we know. But we will always be there for you. We will be your friends and will fight for you when you need us, just like today."

This is why the Indian and his dog can no longer understand each other's language. It's also why an Indian's dog will fight to the death for his companion.

Not only is the dog a true friend to the Indian in this life, but in the next one too. It appears that when an Indian's soul travels to the Happy Hunting Ground, it has to cross a deep, fast-flowing river. On both sides of this dark river, there are two dogs holding a large log in their mouths that the souls pass over.

The soul of the Indian who treated his dog well crosses the log easily, because the dogs stand guard. As the soul[Pg 144] of this Indian reaches the river, they say, "This Indian was kind to his dog. He shared his food, and the dog always had a warm spot by his fire. We will help this Indian to cross."

Then the dogs grasp the log firmly in their mouths and keep it steady while the spirit of the kind Indian passes over.

But if the soul of an Indian who was unkind to his dog arrives at the river, the dogs say, "This man was cruel to his dog. He didn’t give his dog a spot by the fire, he beat him, and he let him go hungry. This man cannot cross."

Then the dogs gently hold the log in their mouths, and when the unkind Indian's soul is halfway across, they quickly turn it to one side, causing the soul to be thrown into the deep, dark river.

Many Indians have been nice to their dogs to ensure a safe crossing on that log.[Pg 145]

[Pg 146]

In the days when there were no people in this country except for the Indians, there were no houses; there were only Indian wigwams. There were no roads or streets, just Indian trails.

At that time, a fantastic chestnut tree grew, which the Indigenous people used in their[Pg 147] cooking. Just a tiny amount of this chestnut, grated into a pot, could make a whole batch of porridge.

In a wigwam, there lived Deerheart and Sky Elk, along with their young son, Greedy Fawn. The mother was named Deerheart because she was loving, gentle, and kind. The father was called Sky Elk because he was strong and fast. Greedy Fawn certainly earned his name, and you'll find out why soon.

One day, Deerheart and Sky Elk went on a long journey. As they left the wigwam, they told Greedy Fawn, "Don’t touch the chestnut, and don’t start a fire while we’re gone."

Greedy Fawn promised. He watched his mom and dad disappear down the western trail. Then he went back to the wigwam.

"Now," he thought, "I can have all the porridge I want."[Pg 148]

So he ran and collected some sticks. He made a fire with the sticks. Then he hung the kettle over the fire and poured in some water. After that, he found the chestnut. He grated a bit of the chestnut into the kettle and started stirring. Then he grated some more, and then some more, and then some more.

Faster and faster, Greedy Fawn stirred the boiling porridge as it started to bubble up and fill the pot.

Larger and larger, it got, and it got, and it got.

Greedy Fawn was so scared he didn't know what to do.

"Oh, will it never stop swelling?" he thought. He stirred harder and harder to keep the porridge from boiling over. Beads of sweat ran down his little bronze face, yet he continued to stir. He couldn't afford to stop.

Then he remembered that sometimes[Pg 149] his mom would tap the kettle with the porridge stick if it got too full.

Rap, rap, rap, went the porridge stick on the edge of the kettle. Instantly the kettle started to swell. It grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger. Greedy Fawn was so scared he didn’t know what to do.

Now Greedy Fawn couldn’t reach across the kettle to stir the porridge with his stick, so he started to run around it. And around, and around, and around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and stirring.

At last, the kettle was so big that it nearly filled the wigwam. There was just enough space left for Greedy Fawn to run around it. And around, and around, and around the kettle he ran, stirring, and stirring, and stirring.

Oh, how his little arms hurt! And, oh, how tired his small legs were! But still he ran. He couldn't stop.[Pg 150]

Here was enough porridge to last a small boy a lifetime, and he couldn't stop to taste even one bite!

At last, Greedy Fawn could run no more. He stumbled and fell beside the kettle. He was too weak to get up. The stick dropped from his hand, and the porridge continued to boil. Higher and higher it rose until it overflowed and spilled down the sides of the kettle. Closer and closer the boiling porridge crept toward the little Indian boy, and soon Greedy Fawn and his stick were almost covered in porridge.[Pg 151]

For once, Greedy Fawn had all the porridge he wanted. And he would never have wanted anything again if Deerheart and Sky Elk hadn't heard his cries and rushed up the trail to save him like deer.

[Pg 152]

A dog was chasing a rabbit through the woods.

Some wolves and panthers were chasing a bull that had been grazing in the valley near the woods. They had been trying to catch him for a while, but it didn’t look like they were getting any closer.

When the wolves and panthers realized they weren't getting any closer to the bull, they stopped to discuss their options. They figured it would take all day of intense running to catch the bull, and there was a hound nearby! Why not go for the hound?[Pg 153]

All agreed. They set off to find the dog.

Now the bull had overheard the wolves and panthers meeting, and he also headed out to the woods.

As he got closer to the woods, the bull called out to the hound and warned him that a group of wolves and panthers was chasing him. Just then, they appeared in view. The hound didn't dare face them alone, and he didn't know which way to go.

Then the bull said, "Come on, hop on my back. I can outrun them."

The dog ran and jumped onto the back of the bull, and off they went.

The bull and the hound talked as they ran. The bull said he thought the wolves would soon get tired, fall back, and stop chasing them. But he was wrong. They were too furious about being outsmarted.

"You think you can take our game away from us," they yelled at the bull. "But we're going to eat dog meat tonight."[Pg 154]

The bull realized it was a fight for survival. He ran all day. At first, it was easy to get away from the wolves and panthers, but eventually, they started to close in on him.

As the sun set in the sky, the bull felt his knees starting to give way. The weight of the hound was taking its toll on him. A moment later, he stumbled and collapsed.

In a flash, the pack was on them. But with a single jump, the hound leaped over the pack and took off down the trail.

The weaker wolves and panthers jumped on the bull. The stronger ones moved on.

But now the best of them were no match for the hound. He was fresh and strong, having been riding all day. They were tired and worn out from the long chase, and soon they gave up.

Because the hound can conserve its energy for the end of the chase, it can now outpace not just wolves and panthers, but all the other animals.[Pg 155]

An Indian hunter went into the woods looking for animals to hunt.

The forest was so huge that it would have taken three days to get through it. All day, he followed the deer tracks, but his arrows didn't bring him any food.

At night, he arrived at a dark, fast-moving stream. He was exhausted and hungry.

"Here," he said, "I’ll lie down and rest until sunrise."

He started looking for a bed of pine needles, because the Indian loves the pine tree. It’s his friend both day and night. During the day, it guides him through the forest. At night, it provides him with a soft, sweet-smelling bed to sleep on and protects him from the storm.

The hunter ran along the stream. It[Pg 156] was very dark. He felt no soft pine needles under his moccasins, only the tangled roots of trees.

Suddenly, the massive roots of an oak tree reached out and grabbed him. He couldn't pull his foot free from the tree's hold.

The sun rose and set. The massive tree still kept the hunter trapped. He was weak from pain and starvation.

It had been two days since he had eaten. He had carved four notches in his stick, as the Indian keeps track of time like this. Each sunrise and sunset, when he’s on the trail, is marked by a notch on a small stick he carries.

Three times the sun rose and set again, yet the tree still wouldn't let go. There were now ten notches on the stick, and the hunter was so weak that he could barely cut the last one.

As the sun came up on the fifth day, a bird landed in the tree. He spotted the hunter[Pg 157] lying on the ground and approached him to speak.

The hunter understood, because back then, people and birds could communicate with each other.

The bird asked the man how it could help him, and the hunter whispered, "You’re strong. You can fly a long distance. Go and tell the leader of my people."

The bird quickly flew away with the message. He didn’t wait for the sun to rise. He didn’t stop to eat a single berry or worm. He didn’t fly high, nor did he fly low to chat with other birds. He went straight to the people the hunter had mentioned.

The West Wind tried to push him back. A dark cloud appeared to scare him, but he moved right through it. He kept going, and going, and going. He headed straight to the chief's wigwam with his message.

The chief had gathered the young men who were quick on their feet, and was about[Pg 158] to send them out to find the lost hunter. They were asking the chief which trails they should take. Before the chief could answer, a beautiful dove-colored bird flew close to his ear and spoke to him in soft, low tones.

The chief told the young men what the bird had said, and they headed out on the path the bird had mentioned. Before sunset, they found the lost hunter.

Carefully, they pulled him away from the grip of the massive oak and carried him back to his people. That night, there was a feast and a dance to celebrate him.

Ever since, the Native Americans have admired the birds that bring messages, and they never hunt a pigeon.[Pg 159]

Far away in the Northern Sky lives Old Man Winter. Every year he leaves his lodge in the sky and comes down to earth.

At the base of a mountain, he builds a lodge made of ice and snow, which no person, animal, or bird can enter. He lives there for a while.

North Wind is the only friend of Old Man Winter. When he passes by Old Man Winter's lodge, he lets out a loud howl, and with his strong gusts, he blows the door open and walks in.

Near a fire that glows but doesn’t provide warmth, North Wind finds a spot to sit. There, he and Old Man Winter chill and smoke while making their plans for the next snowstorm.

When the council is over, North[Pg 160] Wind leaves, to sweep up the snow and hail from the edges of the earth.

Old Man Winter also leaves his cabin. He moves across the mountains and valleys of the Red Children. The landscape turns white with his breath. The rivers are frozen, and all the sounds of the woods are quieted as he goes by. A deep sleep descends on every living creature.

No sound can be heard in the forest except for the tapping on the trees. Old Man Winter carries a massive hammer, and he hits the trees as he moves by. The colder it gets, the louder and more often he strikes. The trees break, and the Indian lodges crack with his blows.

One day, while Old Man Winter was walking through a forest, he stumbled upon a hunter's cabin. The snow had been falling for days. There were no signs of deer or rabbits, and the hunter and his young son were inside, weak from hunger.[Pg 161] They were also really cold because the fire in the cabin had died down.

Old Man Winter laughed and waved his hammer in joy as he approached. Once, twice, three times, he tapped. The little boy inside heard him and tapped three times in response—just like Old Man Winter had done.

At this, the hunter spoke. He told the boy that he should not mock a nature spirit, or else some harm could come to him. He might be captured and forced to serve that spirit.

Now when Old Man Winter heard the teasing knocks of the little boy inside the lodge, he was really angry. He blew hard on the little lodge. It shrank and shook at his touch like it was alive. He hit it several sharp blows with his hammer and moved on.

The fire inside the lodge burned lower and lower. The hunter and his little son[Pg 162] moved closer and watched the last flame flicker and go out.

As they sat by the ashes, frozen from the cold, a new warmth suddenly filled the lodge. The South Wind gently opened the door, and a young chieftain, with a sunny face, walked in. He saw the dying hunter and the boy, and he brought them back to life. Once they were stronger, he helped them restart the fire. Then he told them to take some dried blackberries they had in the lodge and boil them in water.

He said they had to eat some of the blackberries and throw the rest at Old Man Winter when he came back. This would scare him off because he was really afraid of blackberries.[Pg 163]

[Pg 164]

Blackberries represent sunshine and summer warmth. Old Man Winter can't exist where they grow. He never comes to the earth during blackberry season.

The hunter and the little boy said they would do what they were told. Soon, the young chieftain left the lodge with the South Wind.

Not long after, Old Man Winter showed up again, knocking at their lodge. But this time, the hunter and the little boy were prepared. They threw blackberries at him, just like they were told, and he hurried back to his ice lodge in fear.

The South Wind and the young chieftain with a sun-like face were nearby. They were closely behind the Old Man. When he was back inside the ice lodge, the South Wind knocked softly at the door.

"Get out!" said the Old Man. "Only North Wind is welcome in my lodge."[Pg 165]

Then the South Wind blew gently and warmly against the door of the ice lodge, causing it to melt at their feet. The young chief walked in and sat down by the unusual fire that gave off no warmth. The South Wind lingered outside, singing softly and quietly.

The Old Man was really angry. He stormed around the lodge and told the young chieftain, who had sunshine on his face and warmth in his voice, to leave.

"I am great and powerful," said the Old Man. "When I touch the sky, it snows. When I speak, hunters hide in their cabins; animals scurry into their burrows; and birds take flight in fear."

"When my hand touches the ground, it grows cold and solid, and all life fades away. Leave! Or I will turn you into an ice person or a snow person."

But the young chief did not move. He just sat there and smiled at the Old Man's bluster.[Pg 166]

Slowly, he packed a pipe and handed it to the Old Man, saying, "Here, smoke with me. It will give you the strength to head back to your lodge in the North Sky. It's time for you to leave. You're old, tired, and worn out. You and North Wind have had your time. The future belongs to South Wind and me."

"I, too, am strong, and I’m young! I’m not afraid of you. When I touch the ground, it feels soft and warm. Every living thing wakes from its slumber—birds and bees, flowers and trees, animals and people. When I talk, the sleeping sun awakens. Look! He’s already starting to send down his rays. Hurry! So they don’t catch you on the way to the Northern Sky."

The Old Man shook. His legs and arms became weak. Icicles dropped from his beard. Big tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Who are you?" he whispered, as he melted at the young chieftain's feet.[Pg 167]

"I am Go hay—the Spring," replied the young chieftain. "The whole earth is happy when I arrive to guide you back to your home in the North Sky, because I bring sunshine, love, and joy."

But the Old Man didn’t hear. He was deep on the North Sky trail, and Spring and South Wind were in charge of the earth.

[Pg 168]

An old man from the Iroquois nation once wanted to marry a beautiful Indian maiden. He had many rare furs and prized strings of wampum. He brought them and placed them at the entrance of the wigwam where the maiden lived.

The dad and mom were happy with the old man's gifts. They told him that when the Planting Moon arrived, the girl should go to his hut.[Pg 169]

Now the girl didn’t love the old man. She didn’t want him to make her his wife. "I will never sit at his hut door," she said.

It was midwinter when the old man brought the gifts, the season of the pale, cold moon. Since then, the young woman watched with a heavy heart as the moons waxed and waned.

At last, the snow was gone. The North Wind was no longer heard howling around the lodge. The gentle South Wind had arrived, bringing along the singing birds.

The little brooks woke up and sang. They were happy that spring had arrived, and all the kids of the earth were joyful—except for the girl. Her heart felt heavier and sadder as the sun's face shone brighter.

Then the Planting Moon arrived. The young woman watched the moon glow in the sky. Then she quickly ran to the[Pg 170] great river that flowed not far from the lodge. Lightly, she jumped into her canoe. With a few quick strokes, the canoe was in the middle of the river.

The current flowed quickly and powerfully. The small boat was swiftly taken down the river toward the massive falls known as Niagara Falls. As the canoe approached the falls, the young woman was seen rising and stretching out her arms, as if she was about to jump. A smile lit up her face, and a song was on her lips as the canoe entered the mist that hung over the water.

Then, from the caverns below, a dark blanket drifted upward, as if to catch the young woman. It was Heno, the Thunder Spirit, who lived behind the falls. He had wrapped her in the folds of[Pg 171] his blanket and rescued her from the massive rocks below.

Heno took the girl to live with him in his cabin behind the falls. She was very happy there, so happy that her smile shone through the mist, and the Indians exclaimed, "Look! A rainbow!"

In her new home, the young woman discovered many amazing things. She realized she had strange powers that she didn't know she had before. She could float on a cloud whenever she wanted, and she felt filled with a peculiar energy.

One day, the young woman had a son. She and Heno were very happy. For many moons, the mother and child played together. When Heno was away on one of his journeys through the sky, they would ride the huge bubbles of foam that dashed through the rocks. Sometimes, they would catch sunbeams with a net as they sat on the edge of a cloud and fished.[Pg 172]

One day, Heno asked the young woman if she wanted to visit her family.

"If you want," he said, "you can come back for a while, bringing our son with you. But keep in mind, both of you have powers that the children on this earth don't know about. Be cautious in how you use them. Never allow another child to hit the boy, because that child would instantly wither and die. And don't hit the boy yourself, because he would drop to the ground, stunned."

The woman listened to Heno's words. Soon, they were wrapped in his large cloud blanket and were floating over the river. When they reached her people's home, Heno left the woman and the boy by the river and continued eastward. [Pg 173]

The people were happy to see the woman, whom they had thought was dead. She shared the amazing things she had learned in her new home. She also told them how Heno was freeing their land from a giant serpent that slithered underground, poisoning their springs and making them sick. She said that Heno always carried a basket full of heavy rocks on his back, which he threw at the serpent whenever he spotted it. Soon, he would kill the serpent, and they would be sick no longer.

During many days, the mother and the little boy stayed with the earth people. Sometimes, when the child was playing by the river, he would see a dark cloud coming. Then he would clap his hands with joy and shout, "Here comes my dad!"

The black cloud would drift down to the ground, and Heno would pause to talk with the mother and the boy. As he walked away[Pg 174] from them, he always said, "Don’t let anyone hit the boy."

But one day, the mother didn’t keep an eye on the boy, and he started playing with some dirt kids. They got angry while they played and hit the boy. Instantly, these dirt kids dropped dead on the ground. Then the mother reached out to discipline the boy, and he fell to the ground.

At this, there was a loud rumbling and roaring in the sky, and Heno appeared. He picked up the lifeless child, crying, "You’ve disobeyed. You will no longer have the great power I gave you. You will stay on Earth and be just an ordinary woman. I'll take the boy to my home. From now on, our lodge will be in the sky. He will come back to life there, and he will travel with me on my journeys through the sky."

Then the sky shook and trembled. The[Pg 175] door of the sky lodge opened, and Heno and the boy were seen no more.

Now, when a rumbling and rolling sound is heard in the sky, the Native Americans say, "'Tis the voice of Heno! He is coming from his lodge in the sky!"

But when a flash of fire is seen and a loud crash is heard, they say, "That’s the boy! He’s trying to hit the earth kids with a fire stone. He remembers how they hit him a long time ago."

[Pg 176]

Once a rabbit started to dash back and forth through the woods, shouting for snow, snow, snow! It was one of those big gray rabbits, with long ears, that people call hares.

As this hare dashed back and forth through the woods, he sang loudly, "Ah gon ne yah—yeh! Ah gon ne yah-yeh! Ah gon ne yah—yeh! dah gen, dah ton, Ah gon ne yah—yeh! Ah gon ne yah—yeh!" This meant, "Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow! Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow!"

Now, as odd as it may seem, while this hare ran back and forth singing for snow, snow, snow, some snowflakes started to[Pg 177] fall. The hare was so thrilled that he jumped up and down with joy.

"I'm going there—yeah! I'm going there—yeah! I'm going there—yeah!" he sang, in short, quick notes of joy. And the higher he jumped, and the louder he sang, the faster and thicker the snow came.

The hare was so happy that he started running again. All day long he ran back and forth through the woods, calling out, "Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if there was snow!" And the snow fell faster and faster. It kept coming thicker and thicker. The path where the rabbit ran grew higher and higher as the snow piled deeper and deeper.

But finally, the hare was so exhausted that he could run no more. He stopped singing about "Snow, snow, snow! How I would run if I had snow," because now he had more snow than he could handle. The snow[Pg 178] covered the tops of the trees, and it was really difficult to run.

The hare was really tired. He figured he needed to take a break. Night was approaching. He glanced around. Near the path, he saw the upper branches of a willow tree peeking out above the snow. He jumped into a fork of those branches. There, he could sit and relax for a bit. Before long, he fell asleep. He slept all night and into part of the next day.

That night it started to rain, and it rained really, really hard. The snow began to melt, and it melted really, really fast, and when that hare woke up, not a single flake of snow was in sight!

But there was the hare way up at the top of that willow tree! He didn't know what to do. He was really hungry. He wondered how long he could stay there without starving. He spotted some tender buds on the branches. He ate[Pg 179] those, and then he gnawed on the bark for a while.

However, sooner or later, the hare knew he had to jump or starve. He looked down at the ground. It looked really appealing to him. He could see some fresh green moss and some beautiful grass. One jump, and they would be his! But what a jump!

At last, the hare built up the courage to jump. He closed his eyes and made one big leap to the ground. But as he jumped, he got his tail caught on the branch of the willow tree and left a bit of it stuck up there. When he landed, he hit the front of his face on a sharp rock, which split his upper lip in two.

Ever since then, hares have had split lips and short tails, and ever since then, willow trees have had catkins on them in the spring.[Pg 180]

The Great Spirit had smiled upon his Red Children. The land was abundant, for the Great Spirit had given them the three essentials of life: corn, beans, and squash. Flowers bloomed, birds sang, and all of the earth rejoiced with the Red Children because of the gifts from the Great Spirit.

On one side of a hill, tall corn swayed gently, its silky tassels and plumes dancing in the breeze. On another side, beans with their smooth pods climbed upwards towards the sky. Further down a third slope, bright yellow squashes turned their faces to the sun.

One day, the Spirit of the corn felt unsettled. There was a rustling through[Pg 181] the swaying leaves, and a deep sigh came from the heart of the tall stalks. The Spirit of the corn was lonely.

After that, every morning at sunrise, a good-looking young chief was spotted standing on the edge of the hill. He wore bright red feathers on his head. Tall, strong, and impressive, he stood wrapped in his flowing blanket, its fringed tassels swaying in the summer breeze.

"Che che hen! Che che hen! Someone I would marry! Someone I would marry!" the young chieftain would sing, over and over again.

One day, his voice reached the Squash Maiden on the other side of the hill. The Squash Maiden wrapped herself in a vibrant green blanket adorned with bright gold trumpet-shaped flowers. Then she hurried over to the young chieftain.

"Marry me! Marry me!" said the[Pg 183][Pg 182] Squash Maiden, as she laid her beautiful gold and green blanket at his feet.

Corn Plume looked down at the Squash Maiden sitting on her blanket at his feet. She was lovely to behold, yet Corn Plume was not satisfied. He wanted a maiden who would stand by his side, not always sit at his feet.

Then Corn Plume said this to the Squash Maiden.

"Corn Plume can't marry Squash Maiden. She's very beautiful, but she doesn’t make Corn Plume's heart sing. Squash Maiden will get bored of his lodge. She won’t stay in his hut. She enjoys going on long journeys and wandering far from home."

"Corn Plume can’t make Squash Maiden his wife because he isn’t happy with her. But she will be Corn Plume’s sister and can sit in his lodge whenever she wants. The woman Corn Plume marries must[Pg 184] always be by his side. She has to go wherever he goes and stay wherever he stays."

Next morning at sunrise, Corn Plume's voice was heard again, singing from the hilltop, "Che che hen! Che che hen! Someone I want to marry! Someone I want to marry! Che che hen! Che che hen!"

This time his song caught the attention of the Bean Maiden. Her heart soared when she heard Corn Plume's voice, knowing he was calling her. Filled with joy, the Bean Maiden ran like a deer up the hillside. She kept going, up and over the top of the hill, until she reached the young chieftain's side.

Then Corn Plume turned and saw the most beautiful girl he had ever encountered. Her eyes were deep and dark, like mountain ponds. Her breath was sweet like the waters of maple trees. She tossed off her blanket of green, purple, and white and stretched her intertwining arms toward him.

Corn Plume wanted to keep Bean Maiden by his side forever. He leaned his tall, feathered head toward her. Her arms wrapped tightly around the young chieftain, and Corn Plume felt happy.

So tightly were the arms of Corn Plume and the Bean Maiden wrapped around each other, so genuinely were they united, that the Indians never tried to separate them. From then on, corn and beans were planted together in the same spot, and often a squash seed was included.

Since the Great Spirit had put the corn, the bean, and the squash together on a hill, the Indian said they should keep living and growing and share a hill together.

The door of Corn Plume's lodge was always open to the Squash Maiden, if she decided to come in. But she rarely stayed[Pg 186] in his wigwam. More often, she was seen taking off on a long path.

But Bean Maiden stayed loyal to Corn Plume. She was always seen by his side. She never left the lodge unless he went with her. Corn Plume's lodge was her lodge, and her path was his path.

And because the spirits of the corn and the bean are united, the Indigenous people not only plant and grow them together but also cook and eat them together. "In life, they were one," they say, "We will not separate them in death."

And now, when you hear a loud rustling and sighing of the corn in the white man's land, the Indigenous people often say, "It’s the Spirit of Corn Plume, mourning for his lost Bean Maiden!"

[Pg 187]

Some Indian hunters once traveled north to hunt for moose. It was the season of falling leaves.

They traveled for several days until they reached a lake. Near the lake, they built a log cabin. They stuffed moss between the logs to keep out the wind, and they made a thick roof from hemlock branches. In the center of the roof, they left a small opening for the smoke from the fire to escape.

Here the hunters lived during the month when leaves fall. Every day they tracked moose, but they found none. Their arrows hardly brought them any game. They grew discouraged and sick, and one by one, the hunters laid down and died.[Pg 188]

At last, there was only one hunter left. He was sick too, getting weaker every day. His food was almost gone. It was getting cold, and there wasn't much firewood left in the cabin.

But the man didn’t give up. Again and again he shouted, “Someone will come and help me! Someone will come and help me!”

One day, as he lay there too weak to get up, the fire flickered and went out. It felt like he was going to die. But even then, he didn't give up. Over and over, with his weak voice, he called out, "Someone will come and help me! Someone will come and help me!"

And someone came to help him. His shout was heard, as a bird flew in through the smoke hole in the roof of the lodge.

The bird had such a bright, courageous voice that the man felt better the moment he[Pg 189] flew in. The bird said to the man, "I was nearby; I heard you calling. I’m here to help you."

Then the bird noticed that the fire was out and the man was cold. He flitted around in the ashes until he found a piece of glowing coal. With a happy chirp, he flew out through the roof. Soon, he returned with his beak full of dried twigs. He set them on the fire and started to fan them into flames with his wings. Before long, the twigs were burning brightly. Then he flew out for more twigs—again and again.

The brave little bird kept carrying twigs until the fire burned bright, and the cabin was warm again.

When the bird flew into the lodge, it had a clean, white chest. After the fire was lit, its chest was covered with red and brown spots. It tried to pick them off with its beak, but they wouldn’t come off. Instead, they seemed to spread, and its whole chest turned red-brown. Then the bird realized that it must have burned its chest to a red-brown while fanning the fire into flames.

But the little bird didn’t care if he had dirtied his white chest and turned it red-brown. Hadn’t he brought joy and life to a dying man?

He whistled a few cheerful notes, then said to the man, "I'm going to leave now, but I'll be close to your place. When you need me, just call, and I'll come back."

Later in the day, the man called for help again. The fire was dying down, and he still wasn’t strong enough to go outside and gather twigs. Once more, the bird came to his rescue. It flew in and out several times, bringing back small branches and twigs until they were stacked high on the fire, which crackled and burned once again.

There was a small piece of wood in the lodge.[Pg 191] The man put it in the fire, and the heat made him feel better, so he quickly became healthy and strong again.

Every day the man chatted with the bird, since it was always close by, and its cheerful voice and brave words inspired the man with courage.

Once again, he followed the moose trail, and this time his arrows successfully brought down a moose. Before long, the hunter had all the meat, skins, and moose hair he needed. He planned to bring the moose hair back to his wife so she could use it to create beautiful designs on moccasins.

The first snow was falling as the hunter headed south on the trail home. The bird hopped alongside him for a short distance, then said, "I have to leave you now. Winter is coming, and I need to head to the Southland, or the snow will catch me. I'll be back in the spring."[Pg 192]

When spring arrived, the bird with the red-brown breast showed up with his partner and built a nest near the hunter's lodge. That summer, five little birds grew up in the nest, and they also had red and brown breasts.

And since then, Robin Redbreast has kept coming back to build his nest near people's homes, because Robin Redbreast is a friend to humans.

[Pg 193]

[Pg 194]

[Pg 195]

Once the Little People, the Indian fairies, ran with the Red Children through the woods and played with them by the streams. Now they are rarely seen, because the white man chased them out of the woods along with the Indians, and away from the waters, with his loud steam noises.

But before steamboats and big mills appeared on the rivers, the Little People were already there. They were often spotted paddling their small canoes or sliding down the large rocks on the banks. They enjoyed sliding down a bank where a rock stuck out, as it gave them a nice bounce. They also liked to play around and jump with the fish.

There was a young Indian girl named Morning Star. She was called[Pg 196] Morning Star because her face was so bright, and she always got up early in the morning.

Morning Star lived with her dad in a cozy wigwam by a river. Every day, she would wake up with the sun and run down to the river, where the big rocks were, to catch fish for breakfast.

Morning Star caught her fish in a basket. At night, she would go and secure her basket between the rocks in a narrow part of the stream. Then, when the fish swam through at night, they would get trapped in it, and Morning Star would find plenty of fish waiting for her. In the morning, she would take the basket of fish back to the wigwam, and soon the smell of fish frying on hot coals would fill the lodge.

Never since Morning Star started fishing with her basket had Chief Little Wolf, her father, ever had to wait for his fish[Pg 197] breakfast before heading out on the hunt. But one morning, neither Chief Little Wolf nor Morning Star had fish for breakfast. Here’s what happened.

On that morning, the Indian girl was up as usual with the sun. She ran down the river just as the Great Spirit lifted the sun's smiling face. Morning Star felt so lighthearted that she was happy just to be alive, and she sang a song of praise as she ran. All true Indians at sunrise raise their arms and faces to the sun, thanking the Great Spirit for smiling on them once more.

Happy and quick as a deer, Morning Star ran until she reached the big rocks. There she saw a whole group of little people gathered around her basket. Some were sitting on the sides of the basket, laughing and singing. Others were taking the fish out of it and tossing them into the stream. Still others were[Pg 198] opening and closing the slats of the basket so the fish could slip through.

Morning Star knew that these tiny beings were the Jo gah oh. She also knew that these Little People were allies of the fish. They understand every knot of a fishing net and every bend of a hook. They are often known to release fish and lead them into deep, calm spots, far away from the fishermen.

Morning Star called out to the Little People, pleading with them not to let all the fish escape. Then she started to hurry down the rocks as quickly as she could. The little Chief shouted up to her, "Fish, just like Indian girls, want to be alive."

Then he told the Little People to continue releasing the fish.

When Morning Star got to her basket, a few fish were still inside. She reached out her hand to grab them from the Little People—but there wasn’t a single fish or a Jo gah oh[Pg 199] in sight. The Little People had dashed into the rocks, since they can go through anything, and the fish had slipped through the small gaps between the splints of the basket.

Morning Star heard the laughter of the Little People echo deep within[Pg 200] the rocks, as they loved to play tricks on the earth children. And far down the stream, she saw the fish jumping with joy at being alive. She grabbed her empty basket and headed back to the wigwam.

That morning for breakfast, Morning Star baked corn cakes over the hot coals. As she ate the warm cakes, she thought they tasted nearly as good as fish.

Ever since, whenever Morning Star saw a fish jump from the stream, she thought of what the Jo gah oh had said: "Fish, like Indian girls, like to be alive."[Pg 201]

One day, an Indian boy was playing by a stream when one of the little elf men paddled by in his canoe. The boy had his bow and arrow with him, and so did the little elf man.

The little man stopped and offered to trade bows and arrows. The Indian boy looked first at his bow and then at the little man's. His bow was large, while the little man's bow was very small. The boy thought his bow was better, so he said he wouldn’t trade.

The little elf guy laughed and pulled back his bow.

"You think only big things are impressive," he said. "One day you'll realize that's not true. One day you'll want this little bow[Pg 202] and these little arrows. One day you'll wish you had made a different choice."

Then he shot an arrow into the clouds, jumped into his canoe, and paddled off up the stream. As he vanished, he called back to the boy, "You'll see me again, someday!"

The Indian boy ran to his wigwam home. He told his dad about the little man he had seen and how the man wanted to trade bows and arrows.

"And you didn't trade?" the father exclaimed.

"No," said the boy, "his bow was small; mine is big."

"Foolish boy!" the father exclaimed. "That little guy was a Jo gah oh, one of the Little People. They do amazing things. Their arrows are filled with power. If you had exchanged bows, you would have become a great hunter and been able to get close to the animals.[Pg 203]

"Those little arrows from the Jo gah oh fly quickly and far, and they always bring back game. The boy who has a Jo gah oh bow and arrow is always lucky. One of their arrows is worth a lot more than one of yours. If you had traded your bow and arrows, you would have been called 'He shoots the sky.' Now you will be known as 'Little Shooter.'"

Little Shooter grew up to be a man. He often went hunting, but his arrows didn’t get him much game.

Many times, he wished he could meet the little elf man again and swap his bow and arrows because sometimes he spent days running without finding any signs of deer or rabbits. But the little elf man never showed up.

One day, when Little Shooter had become quite an old man, he was walking in the woods. He stopped under a tree to take a break. Several times, he felt something drop on his head.[Pg 204]

At last, he looked up to see what it was.

There sat the little elf man, swinging on the tip of a branch and throwing nuts and twigs at him. He looked just like he did when Little Shooter met him by the stream a long time ago. He hadn’t aged or changed at all.

"How long have you been here?" asked Little Shooter.

"I've always been here," said the little man. "I've been in the world ever since the stones were soft."

Then he laughed and asked, "Does Little Shooter prefer the big bow and arrows now, or has he figured out that sometimes small things are awesome? Next time, he should trade with the little guy," and aiming another nut at Little Shooter's head, he vanished into the tree trunk.

[Pg 205]

It was bluebird time, a long time ago. Small streams laughed and danced, and the whole forest was joyful.

An Indian boy came running through the forest. He was happy too because it was spring!

As he sprinted down the path, he noticed something hanging from a bush. The bush was just a short hop away from the trail, so he paused to check out what new flower spring had delivered. He discovered that the new flower was actually a tiny papoose cradle.

The boy took the cradle from the bush and held it in his hand. As he looked closer, he saw that there was a small papoose in the little cradle. The tiny papoose laughed at him as he spoke to it.[Pg 206]

The boy had never seen such a tiny papoose, and he thought he would take it home to his mother since it was so cute. She only had nine of her own. He was sure she would like one more and that there would be a spot for the tiny stranger in their wigwam.

He started to run down the trail, but something seemed to keep him in place. He couldn't break free. Three times he tried to run, but each time he only ended up going in circles around that bush. Something was keeping him stuck there.

Just then, a sharp scream echoed from up the trail. The boy thought that some animal might be hurt or in distress. He turned to see a tiny woman approaching. She was under a foot tall, but she dashed toward the boy like a deer, crying and pleading with him to return her baby.

Then the boy realized it was the love of that little mother that had kept him close.[Pg 207] He couldn't sever the bond of love between that mother and her baby.

Now the boy had a heart that was gentle and compassionate. He loved to see everyone happy. When he saw the young mother crying and pleading for her baby, he felt for her.

Many times he had heard his mother say that every mother bird loves her chicks, every mother bear loves her cubs, every mother deer loves her fawn, and every Indian mother loves her papoose. He understood that this little fairy mother must also love her fairy baby, so he placed it on the little[Pg 208] mother's back and told her she should have her papoose.

The little mother let out a happy shout when she felt the baby on her back again. Then she took a stone from a bag she was carrying and added it to a string of beads that hung from the boy's neck.

The stone sparkled on his chest like a drop of dew.

"Because you are good, kind, and selfless, and because you bring happiness to everything," she said, "you shall wear this lucky stone. It will give you whatever you desire."

"We Little People give this stone to those earth children only who are strong and yet protect the weak. Wear it always over your heart. Never take it off, and you will become a great leader."

Then the little mother let out another happy sound, and with her baby on her back, she vanished into an oak. [Pg 209]

The boy kept running. His heart felt lighter and the stone shone brighter as he moved forward. Before he got to his mother's hut, he had caught food with his arrows for their dinner.

From the day the boy met the little Jo gah oh mother in the woods and was given the stone, he had good luck. Whatever he did, everything went well for him. If he went hunting, he brought back deer. If he planted corn, it grew tall and strong. No boy could throw a ball as far or run as fast as he could. He could shoot his arrows into the sky and send his snow-snakes gliding far beyond everyone else.

So fortunate was this Indian boy that his tribe nicknamed him "Luck-in-all-moons." "He has the good-luck stone," the elders would say as they gathered around the fire, nodding their heads wisely. But they never knew how he got it or why he was awarded the stone.[Pg 210]

And when "Luck-in-all-moons" became an adult, his tribe appointed him as a great chief. Just as the little Jo gah oh mother had predicted, he became a chief, even though it wasn't through the traditional line of succession.

Because he stood tall and strong, helping others, defending the vulnerable, and accomplishing great things, he was known as the Pine-tree Chief.

"His feet are firmly grounded in wisdom and strength," they said, "and his head is close to the sky. He sees far and shows us the way. Just like the highest branch of the pine always points to the east, so Luck-in-all-moons will lead us to the rising sun. He will be our Pine-tree Chief."[Pg 211]

Once there was a little Indian girl who was very sad and unhappy. The Great Spirit had taken her parents, and she had gone to live with relatives who didn't want her. Often, she went to sleep hungry because she was only given the leftover scraps from meals.

One day, the relatives of the little girl brought in a beautiful deer from their hunt and started preparing for a feast. They told the girl to leave the lodge because there was neither space nor food for her.

The little girl ran and hid in a large cornfield. There, she cried out loud.

Soon, a group of odd Little People gathered around her to offer comfort. On[Pg 212] all sides, from the folds of the green cornstalks, they emerged.

They gently ran their hands over her head, wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, "Don't cry, little girl. We’ll take care of you. You can come and live with us. We’ll throw a feast for you. We understand why you're sad, because we can read the thoughts of all the children on Earth. Come with us, and we’ll show you more amazing things than you’ve ever seen."

At this, the little girl wiped her tears and smiled at the kind Little People.

"You’re really good to me," she said. "Who are you?"

"We are the Jo gah oh," they said, "the Little People. Come, and we will show you what we're capable of."

Then they put some winged moccasins on her feet. They wrapped her in an invisible blanket and placed a magic[Pg 213] corn plume in her hair, and the next moment, everyone was flying through the air.

They flew to a ledge of big rocks. When the Little People touched them, the rocks opened up, and they went inside.

The girl found herself in a lovely lodge. Kind Jo gah oh mothers were baking cakes and roasting meat. They welcomed the girl, and soon a feast was set up in her honor.

Now the little girl's heart was so light that she danced with joy.

"What amazing people you are! Can you go anywhere or do anything you want?"

"Yes," said the little chief, "the Jo gah oh may be small, but they are powerful. Join us, and you'll see what we're capable of."

Again they were soaring through the air. Before long, they arrived at the lodge where the little girl had lived. It was nighttime, and her[Pg 214] relatives were asleep, but she could see the deer hanging outside, prepared for the feast.

"Now," said the Jo gah oh chief, "we will summon a pack of wolves from the woods over there, and there will be no fatty deer for this greedy feast at sunrise."

Now, no wolves had been seen in that woods for many months. But at the call of the fairies, a pack burst out, ran to the cabin, grabbed the deer, and ripped it apart. Then they vanished back into the woods.

The little girl's eyes were wide with wonder as they turned back to the fairy lodge in the rocks, but she wasn't scared of these strange Little People. She was so happy with them that she wished she could always live in a Jo gah oh lodge.

One morning, the little chief said, "Today we’re going to see more wonders."

This time a small canoe was waiting.[Pg 215] They got in and paddled down a river until they reached a huge tree.

"In that tree," said the little chief, "lives a huge black bear. Every day he comes out of that door you see high up in the bear tree. I will lock the door so he can’t open it. A deep sleep will overcome him. He will sleep for many moons."

Then the chief tossed three stones through the open door of the bear tree. Each time, a flame spread like a blanket over the door. A growling and scratching could be heard from inside. Then everything fell quiet.

"Now," said the chief, "the bear will hibernate until I call him in the spring. He is locked away for the winter. Come on, let's move forward."

The little girl pulled her imaginary blanket tighter as the canoe floated along with the birds through the clouds. The fast-flying birds shouted for a race.

"Come on!" said the fairy chief.[Pg 216]

Then he spread wide the invisible sails of his canoe, and they rushed past the birds like a flash of lightning. Even the eagle was left far behind. They seemed to zoom through the sky.

And, oh, how fun it was to be a bird! The little girl would have flown on forever, but the little chief said, "You need to go back to your people. We’ve given them warm hearts and open minds. They’re calling for you. They’ll be happy to see you."

And soon the little girl was back in her relatives' wigwam, sitting by the cozy fire.

They welcomed her with joy, laid out a soft blanket for her to sit on, and served her the finest food. The little girl lived with them forever and was happy.