Stories the Iroquois Tell Their Children Part 9

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

That spring the Indians discovered a new bird in the woods. The bird was too lazy to build a real nest.

This bird did not weave together twigs and moss, leaves and ferns, bits of hair and thistledown, to make a cozy, warm, safe nest for its eggs and young, as did the other birds. This bird would lay its eggs anywhere. Wherever a few sticks lay crosswise in a track, or in a little hollow of the ground, or where some twigs or dried ferns were caught loosely in a bush, there this lazy bird would lay its eggs and rear its young.

It was too lazy to build a real nest, that was safe and warm for its little ones.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The Indians called the bird "the cuckoo." But only one Indian knew how the cuckoo came to be, and why it is too lazy to build a real nest.

HOW THE c.o.o.n OUTWITTED THE FOX

A wise old racc.o.o.n sat up in a tree near the river where the bear lost his tail. The c.o.o.n saw the fox play his foxy trick on the bear, and he did not like it.

"The fox is getting a big head," said the c.o.o.n. "This must not be. His head must be made smaller. Some of the foxiness must be taken out of it.

He is getting too foxy. He thinks he has the cunning of all the animals, and that no one can outwit him. Some one must play a 'fox' trick on him."

Not many days later, the c.o.o.n saw the fox coming down the trail. The c.o.o.n was eating some juicy yellow apples that he had found on a tree not far away. As soon as he saw the fox, he ran up a tree, and began to smack his lips as the fox had done to tempt the bear.

The fox stopped under the tree, just as the bear had stopped.

"What tastes so good?" he asked.

For answer the c.o.o.n threw down an apple to the fox, just as the fox had thrown the piece of fish down to the bear.

The fox took the apple and ate it.

"Fine! Fine!" said the fox, when he had finished the last mouthful.

"Where did you get it?"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The c.o.o.n then told the fox how to find the apple tree. He must follow the trail along the river, down to the pine bluff. Then he must climb the bluff and run toward the setting sun, until he came to an open field. In the center of that field stood a great apple tree. It was filled with juicy yellow apples.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

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

"Oh, that's easy," said the c.o.o.n. "Just back off two bow shots from the tree, then lower your head,--so. Run hard and b.u.t.t the tree with your head. You have such a big head, it will shake the tree so hard that all the apples will fall at once. Do as I tell you, and you will have all the apples you want for a long time."

The fox thanked the c.o.o.n and started at once.

He found the apple tree, just as the c.o.o.n had said.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"What a fine open place to run in," thought the fox. "I will get such a fine 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 earth shake under his feet.

The fox did as the c.o.o.n had told him. One arrow flight he backed off, then another. Then he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and ran swiftly over the thick gra.s.s. He struck the tree as hard as ever he could, with his big head.

Not an apple fell, but a dazed, foolish-looking fox fell to the ground.

Next morning as the sun rose, a shame-faced fox was seen running toward the woods beyond the pine bluff. He carried his head low, and he seemed to be playing no foxy tricks.

WHY THE GOLDFINCHES LOOK LIKE THE SUN

It was some moons after the c.o.o.n outwitted the fox, before they again met. The c.o.o.n was hurrying by, when the fox saw him.

Now the fox had not forgotten the trick the c.o.o.n had played on him. His head was still sore from that great thump against the apple tree. So the fox started after the c.o.o.n. He was gaining, and would have caught him, had they not come to a tall pine tree.

The c.o.o.n ran to the very tiptop of the pine tree. There he was safe, for the fox could not climb.

The fox lay down on the soft pine needles and waited for the c.o.o.n to come down. The c.o.o.n stayed up in the pine tree so long that the fox grew tired and sleepy. He closed his eyes and thought he would take a short nap.

The c.o.o.n watched, until he saw that the fox was sound asleep. Then he took in his mouth some of the pitch from the pine tree. He ran down the tree and rubbed the pitch over the eyes of the sleeping fox.

The fox awoke. He sprang up and tried to seize the c.o.o.n, but, alas! he could not see what he was doing. The lids of his eyes were held fast with the pine gum. He could not open them.

The c.o.o.n laughed at the fox's plight, then ran and left him.

The fox lay for some time under the tree. The pine gum, as it dried, held the lids of his eyes closer and closer shut. He thought he should never again see the sun.

Some birds were singing near by. He called them, and told them of his plight. He asked if they would be so kind as to pick open his eyes.

The birds flew off and told the other birds. Soon many of the little dark songsters flew back to where the fox lay. Then peck, peck, peck, went the little bills on the eyelids of the fox. Bit by bit they carefully pecked away the pine gum. If one grew tired, another bird would take its place.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

At last the fox saw a streak of light. Soon the lid of one eye flew open, then the other. The sun was s.h.i.+ning, and the world looked very beautiful to the fox, as he opened his eyes.

He was very grateful to the little birds for bringing him light. He told them to ask what they would, and he would give it to them.

The little birds said, "We do not like the plain, dark suits which the Turkey Buzzard brought us. Make us look like the sun we have brought to you."

The fox looked about him. Beautiful yellow flowers were growing near. He pressed some of the sun color from them, and with the tip of his tail as a brush, he began to paint the dark little birds like the sun.