Two Indian Children Of Long Ago Part 5

"What did the rabbit do, Grandmother?"

"He ran to the canoe, changed back to a man, put the fire in a magic bag, and paddled as fast as he could to his own camp.

"There he lighted a pile of wood for his grandmother, and then hurried away to the Thunderers. They have kept the sacred fire for the Indians since that day."

"Who are the Thunderers, Grandmother?" asked White Cloud.

"After we have had our dinner I will tell you the story. Now we will use some of our dry wood and make a fire."

"Can I learn to get the fire out of wood?" asked White Cloud.

"You will need to try again and again, for it is not an easy task.

Watch me, my child, and see how it is done."

Nokomis soon had a pile of dry gra.s.s and twigs. Then she rubbed two pieces of wood together for a long time. At last a spark flew from the dry wood and the gra.s.s was lighted.

Meat and birds' eggs were soon roasted in the hot ashes. After the meal Nokomis and White Cloud started for home, each with a bundle of wood strapped to her back.

"Now I'm ready for the story you promised me," said White Cloud.

THE THUNDERERS

"Far in the east, above the sky, the great Thunderer lives with his two sons. They are the friends of the whole world. When you hear their voices be glad, for they are bringing the gift of rain.

"In the spring they come from their sky home with the showers that make the gra.s.s grow and the little plants peep out of the ground.

"They water the earth; and the corn comes up, the sap flows for our sugar, the trees open their leaves and blossoms, and the berries ripen.

"Without their help every growing plant would turn brown and fade away.

The wild rice and the sugar trees would die. Animals would search in vain for food, and they would crawl into their dens and perish.

"There would be no game for the hunter to shoot. Then the terrible famine spirits would enter our lodges, and we would sicken and die.

"We should never fear the loud voices of the Thunderers, for they are always good and kind.

"They are the war chiefs of the world. When we see the rainbow, we catch a glimpse of the splendid robes they wear.

"In the middle of their great lodge burns the sacred fire, which they guard for all the people of the earth."

"I will never be afraid again when I hear them speaking," said White Cloud. "But I like to be in the lodge when they bring their rain storms. If they come to-day perhaps we can find a cave in the hills our trail crosses."

"It would not be safe for us to enter a cave in the forest," replied Nokomis. "The Little People might be in it, and they would be displeased."

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE FOREST

"And now," said White Cloud, "I want to hear all about the Little People."

"Speak low, White Cloud. We are coming to the rocky hillside. We must listen, for we may hear them drumming."

"I wish we could! We would run and try to see them."

"It would be far better for us to turn and run the other way. The Little People do not like to be disturbed. If they should see us, they might cast a spell on us."

"What harm would that do us?" asked the child.

"We would forget where we are going and who we are. We might wander in the woods until we starved, for we could never find the trail home."

"How do the Little People look, and what do they do? Does anyone know?"

"They are handsome little men, smaller than the tiniest babies. By daylight they drum and dance, for they are very fond of music.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"If they are not disturbed, they are very kind and helpful, especially to those who are in trouble. They do not like to be seen, and will never work if a man or woman, or even a child, is in sight.

"Sometimes they come to the cornfield when it is very dark. If they are heard, no Indian goes out of the lodge. Often the field will be found well weeded in the morning and the earth loose about the growing plants.

"Once, in the moon of ripe corn, there was a woman alone with a sick child. She heard the Little People near her lodge, and she remembered to be very quiet. In the morning her corn was all picked for her.

"If a hunter finds an arrow near the cornfield, he must say very loud: 'Little People, will you let me have this arrow?' for it may have been shot from their bows.

"If he takes it without asking, he may be hit with stones as he is walking home."

"Tell me about the boy who was changed into a hunter spirit," said White Cloud.

"There was once a boy," began Nokomis, "who ran away from home. He grew smaller and smaller until he became like the spirits of the woods.

"But he is full of mischief. You can sometimes tell what he is doing, although he himself is never seen.

"Have you not noticed your dog jump up quickly from the place where he has been sleeping? The spirit of the runaway boy is whipping him with nettles.

"You will often see a flock of birds suddenly leave their food and fly away. The little hunter spirit has frightened them.

"When the tired hunter stops, far from his lodge, to roast his meat, the little mischief-maker blows out his fire and fans the smoke into his eyes.

"He catches the arrows which are aimed at the birds and hides them. He puts slippery clay in the path and laughs when the children fall. No one can tell all his tricks of mischief."

"Grandmother, look! Here is an arrow on the ground."

"Let it be. We will not annoy the spirits. Now we must hurry home, for the clouds darken and I can hear the loud voices of the Thunderers starting out from their sky home."