Frances Lilian Taylor

“ They freeze our food and try to starve us. North Wind gives the war whoop as he flies in the forest.
"Then Old Winter comes like the Indians on the war trail. We cannot see him, and we cannot hear him. He does not break a twig, and his footsteps make no sound. He crowds into our lodge, and tries to steal our fire and freeze us. I wish he would never come again!"
"We must be brave, my grandchild. We must make ready with food and firewood to fight his power. I will tell you of a brave little duck that even North Wind could not conquer." ”

“ There is no moon, and the stars twinkle brightly in the sky. A half circle of Indian lodges fronts a small lake. Wide meadows slope to its shores.
All the air is alive with lights, twinkling, whirling, sparkling. Thousands of fireflies are swarming above the grass.
The meadow is full of Indian boys and girls, little and big, dancing the firefly dance. Advancing and retreating, turning and twisting, bowing and whirling, they imitate the moving lights about them and above them. ”

“ Your arrows have not been shot to take life without a reason. No bird nor beast has been left by you to suffer and die.
"Therefore, I, the eagle, king of birds, give you of my courage. You shall fear no warlike band, however many. Alone you shall conquer the enemy."
"And I," said the bear, "give you of my gift of healing. You shall be able to cure yourself, and also your fellow warriors, of any wounds you may receive in battle."
"My fleetness is yours," said the deer. "You shall outstrip all others and run like the wind." ”

“ The little hunter spirit has frightened them.
"When the tired hunter stops, far from his lodge, to roast his meat, the little mischief-maker blows out his fire and fans the smoke into his eyes.
"He catches the arrows which are aimed at the birds and hides them. He puts slippery clay in the path and laughs when the children fall. No one can tell all his tricks of mischief." ”

“ Do you suppose that Swift Elk dresses himself after his bath? He does not think clothing at all necessary except in winter.
Does he help his mother in her work about the lodge? Never! "A boy does not do squaw's work," he says. "A boy must learn to hunt and shoot."
Is he not made to mind? Is he never punished? Oh, no; he will be a great warrior some day, and his father says he ought not to be afraid of any one. And so he lives the wild, free life of the Indian boy. He spends his day in play, with no school, no lessons, and no work to do. ”

“ The boy will grow, and he will shoot us with his bow and arrows."
But when the wren chatters about the coming of a baby girl, the birds chirp merrily. They sing of the grains she will scatter when she grinds the corn into meal.
They sing of the wild rice she will let drop when she comes with her loaded canoe from the rice harvest. "Sing merrily, sing merrily," they say. "Another woman child has come to feed us!"
The cricket hops in the wigwam. And the cricket is glad when the baby is a girl. ”

“ While the mother works the child grows restless and cries. You can never guess why. She is asking in baby language to be put back on her stiff board!
Very soon Good Bird is ready and, with the cradle and bags strapped to her back, she starts for home. Other berry pickers loaded with fruit join her, and together they walk the trail that leads back to the camp.
Nokomis is watching for the baby. She lifts the cradle and hangs it to the lodge pole. The little one is restless. She turns her head from side to side, her black eyes shining. ”

“ Before you can become a great warrior you must show that you are able to endure many hardships without complaint.
"'Set forth on a long journey alone and without food. Travel through unknown forests, enduring hunger and thirst. Sleep on the cold ground, and pray for a vision that shall be your guide through life.'
"Manabush took his bow and arrows and went out into the forest. ”

“ Let us try to imagine our country as it was when the Indians owned it. Can we picture our land without a house or a store or a railroad? Can we think of great rivers with no cities on their banks and with no bridges on which to cross from one side to the other? ”

“ Swift Elk had sharpened his arrows and taken his strongest bow from the wooden peg over his bed.
"I have seen wild ducks flying by the lake," he said. "I am going to hide in the long grass and watch for them. If they come again, they shall feel my arrows. To-night we eat roast duck."
The boy ran toward the lake. His sister, White Cloud, watched him until he was out of sight. "Why can't girls go hunting?" she said. "I have seen seven winters. I shall follow his trail." ”

“ Tales of fearless hunters and brave warriors made the boys wish to become as brave as their fathers. Tales of the men that had brought great good to their people led the children to hope that they, too, might sometime bring blessings to their tribe.
The children learned that their fathers worshiped the Great Spirit, and that no warrior ever went on the warpath without offering many prayers.
They were taught that many of their dances were thank offerings to the Great Spirit, and that the war dance was for success in battle.
In winter evenings the Indians gathered around the wigwam fire. ”

“ But the cricket is sad when the baby is a boy. "He will shoot me, he will shoot me!" chirps the cricket. For, as soon as the boy is old enough, he will be given a tiny bow; and he will fit the sharp arrow and shoot the cricket and the grasshopper. ”

“ So Nokomis and White Cloud started on the trail that led to the wild forest. There great trees had died and fallen, and the branches had been decaying for many moons—no one can tell how many.
"Is the fire always lost when we move our camp, Grandmother?"
"Not always. Some lodge keepers try to [Pg 50] carry a few coals, and the one who succeeds is glad to share with others. But one person is often sent ahead to the new camp to make a central fire out of doors. You know it takes a long time to get a spark by rubbing two sticks together." ”

“ Slower and slower swings the cradle and the black eyes close in sleep.
"What shall we name the little one?" asks the mother.
Nokomis stands in the door of the wigwam. Through the trees she sees the blue water of the lake. White clouds are moving rapidly across the sky.
[Pg 27] "White Cloud shall be her name," answers Nokomis.
Good Bird, the mother, smiles and nods. As she watches the cradle, she talks to the sleeping child.
"My little woman, you shall be a fire maker and a lodge keeper like your mother. You shall help me tan the skins for clothing. ”

“ White Cloud's mother chooses a thicket where the berries are large and abundant. She fastens her baby's cradle to the top of a low tree. The wind swings the cradle, and, [Pg 31] like the Mother Goose baby, the Indian papoose rocks on the tree top. Let us hope that the bough will not break.
The birds chirp and sing in the branches. A squirrel comes near to see what strange object is hanging in his tree. The baby wakes and cries with fright, and the squirrel scampers away.
Good Bird is filling her bags of woven grass with purple berries. ”

“ The boys were practicing with their bows and arrows. After a few trials, in which little skill was shown, Swift Elk threw down his bow. "I'm tired of shooting," he said. "Come on, boys, let's go to the lake for a swim."
Black Wolf, the oldest warrior of the tribe, was sitting on the ground near by, watching the sport.
"Do not give up," said the old man. "You are a big boy now. Only by skill in shooting can you become a brave warrior. Let no one know you are tired or weak. ”

“ So the Indian boy learns early in life to bear pain without complaint.
Swift Elk's father made a little bow and arrow for his son as soon as he was old enough to run out of the wigwam. Each summer he received a larger bow and more destructive arrows.
Wherever the boy goes he carries his weapon, and he is always watching for the chance to shoot a bird, rabbit, squirrel, or any wild animal.
How his mother and grandmother praise him when he brings home game! "You will be a great hunter," they say. "Soon you will be able to go with your father to shoot bear and deer." ”

“ When you hear their voices be glad, for they are bringing the gift of rain.
"In the spring they come from their sky home with the showers that make the grass grow and the little plants peep out of the ground.
"They water the earth; and the corn comes up, the sap flows for our sugar, the trees open their leaves and blossoms, and the berries ripen.
"Without their help every growing plant would turn brown and fade away. The wild rice and the sugar trees would die. Animals would search in vain for food, and they would crawl into their dens and perish. ”

“ Most of the women, like Good Bird, carry their babies and berry sacks upon their backs; but some of them have large dogs trained as burden carriers.
Here comes Two Joys, the mother of twins. She is followed by a pair of dogs, each dragging a strapping brown baby boy.
One by one, the women and girls wade the streams and climb the hills, following the trail that leads to the forest. There they separate, each to make her own choice of bushes. ”

“ Even food was carried to the burial place because the trail was long that led to the Happy Hunting Grounds.
After many years, the early customs became greatly changed. To-day large numbers of Indians are living in the white man's way. Some are well educated and own houses, farms, and even automobiles. Their children are trained in government schools. There are writers among them whose books we like to read, and there are artists who paint interesting pictures of Indian life. ”

“ Flying Squirrel looked at the even strips of bark that were well placed around her frame of slender poles. "Lots of people have bark covers," she replied. "My father has seen whole villages of bark-covered lodges."
"When the peace pipe was smoked over west, my father was there," said White Cloud. "Now we can get big skins in trade, and sometime we'll have ponies. Have you ever seen a pony, Flying Squirrel?"
"No; but my father saw white men when he went north in the moon of snow to trade furs. He says the tribes west will come and fight us again for our rice beds. ”

“ Down came the lodge poles. The trained dogs were called and loaded, and away they [Pg 10] all went. Just think of a whole village moving and leaving nothing behind but the land!
The Indians spent much time in feasting, dancing, and games. During the summer the men had little else to do, for they seldom hunted while the wild animals were caring for their young.
Each tribe was ruled by a chief and a council of warriors. All their lands were held in common, and no one suffered want except when food was scarce for all. ”

“ Some lay on the grass, and others made images of animals with soft clay.
Two or three boys, very hungry, shot some birds, made a fire, and roasted their game. It mattered not to them that their food was far from clean.
Before they went home at night, Swift [Pg 84] Elk's band dared the other side to a ball game, to be played the next morning.
"Let us ask Black Wolf to watch our game," said Swift Elk. All agreed. The old warrior could not go on the long hunt or the warpath, and nothing gave him greater pleasure than to help the boys and young men in their games of strength or skill. ”

“ The story of the birds welcoming a papoose, for example, is obtained in part from the Cherokee collection, and in part from Schoolcraft, who lived among the Ojibways, or Chippewas as they are often called. That certain tales are similar to fables of Æsop is explained by the theory that a primitive people, observing nature, would originate similar myths.
The forests where rice grew wild in the shallow water of lakes and streams, were coveted lands and the cause of many Indian wars. Here game was abundant, and maple sugar, berries, and nuts could be obtained in season. ”

“ When the father is at home he teaches the boy to notice very carefully everything he sees. He must learn the names of plants and birds. He must know the habits of animals and how to hunt them. Above everything, he must be brave and daring.
While the men are away hunting, the younger boys spend the day shooting, fishing, [Pg 42] swimming, and playing games. If they wish to throw mud balls at each other, no one scolds them for being dirty. ”

“ The trail goes on and on to the place where the sun slips over the edge of the earth plane. There it comes to a deep, rapid stream, and the only bridge is a slippery pine log.
On the other side of the river are six strange beings with rocks in their hands. These rocks are magic stones which can injure only those who have done evil, but can never touch nor harm the good. ”

“ At each end of the field two upright poles, a little distance apart, were erected for goal sticks.
In the great ball games played by the men, each side is allowed but one goal stick, which must be hit by the ball. As this is very difficult, Black Wolf helped the boys set up two very long sticks, between which the winner's ball was to be thrown.
Each player always carries a ball stick bent at one end into a small hoop or ring. Strips of rawhide are passed through holes in the hoop, making a netted pocket in which the ball may rest half hidden. ”

“ All rose up with pleasure at this proposal. And they commenced to invent diseases so fast that they had soon named every kind of sickness that you ever heard of. Had they thought of many more, no human beings would now be alive. ”