diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:02:53 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:02:53 -0700 |
| commit | 8d01252ddac67eb31480c81aae595b2393eced5a (patch) | |
| tree | c373b817c32a7840e3c46a424e759f79e7778c30 /35021-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '35021-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/35021-h.htm | 4788 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/frontis.jpg | bin | 0 -> 67993 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/ill-p129.jpg | bin | 0 -> 129409 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/ill-p13.jpg | bin | 0 -> 69307 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/ill-p176.jpg | bin | 0 -> 122791 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/ill-p19.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63926 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus013.jpg | bin | 0 -> 68636 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus016.jpg | bin | 0 -> 62705 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus018.jpg | bin | 0 -> 56045 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus028.png | bin | 0 -> 8679 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus031.png | bin | 0 -> 23293 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus033.png | bin | 0 -> 48006 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus036.png | bin | 0 -> 50788 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus038.png | bin | 0 -> 13034 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus039.png | bin | 0 -> 21592 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus040.png | bin | 0 -> 9142 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus042.png | bin | 0 -> 12971 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus043.png | bin | 0 -> 59674 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus044.png | bin | 0 -> 6987 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus046.jpg | bin | 0 -> 94180 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus055.jpg | bin | 0 -> 24663 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus072.png | bin | 0 -> 42219 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus080.png | bin | 0 -> 65564 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus083.png | bin | 0 -> 36856 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus085.png | bin | 0 -> 38275 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus086.png | bin | 0 -> 34859 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus087.png | bin | 0 -> 30970 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus089.png | bin | 0 -> 485384 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus096.jpg | bin | 0 -> 47476 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus101.jpg | bin | 0 -> 72330 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus103.png | bin | 0 -> 19180 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus108.jpg | bin | 0 -> 41970 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus113.jpg | bin | 0 -> 38274 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus120.png | bin | 0 -> 14813 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus123.png | bin | 0 -> 11659 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus124.png | bin | 0 -> 9561 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus126.png | bin | 0 -> 7380 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus137.png | bin | 0 -> 28013 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus147.png | bin | 0 -> 28996 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus153.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44247 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus158.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53925 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus164.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63345 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/illus169.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74557 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/leaf.png | bin | 0 -> 168 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35021-h/images/titlepage.png | bin | 0 -> 7394 bytes |
45 files changed, 4788 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/35021-h/35021-h.htm b/35021-h/35021-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..759ead1 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/35021-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4788 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Indian Stories Retold From St. Nicholas, by AUTHOR. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify; font-size: 90%;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .bbox2 {border: solid 1px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .big {font-size: 110%;} + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chapterauthor {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 2em;} + .chapterauthor2 {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: .5em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Indian Stories Retold From St. Nicholas, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Indian Stories Retold From St. Nicholas + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 21, 2011 [EBook #35021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN STORIES RETOLD *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + + +<h1>INDIAN STORIES</h1> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='bbox'> +<div class='center'>HISTORICAL STORIES<br /> +<span class='small'>RETOLD FROM</span><br /> +<span class='big'>ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE</span><br /> +<span class='small'>IN FIVE VOLUMES</span></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 28px;"> +<img src="images/leaf.png" width="28" height="28" alt="leaf decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Historical books"> +<tr><td align='left'>INDIAN STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A mirror of Indian ideas, customs, and adventures.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>COLONIAL STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Stirring tales of the rude frontier life of early times.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>REVOLUTIONARY STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Heroic deeds, and especially children's part in them.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CIVIL WAR STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thrilling stories of the great struggle, both on land and sea.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>OUR HOLIDAYS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Something of their meaning and spirit.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class='center'>—————<br /> + +<span class='small'>Each about 200 pages. Full cloth, 12mo.</span><br /> + +THE CENTURY CO.</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 368px;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="368" height="500" alt="AN INDIAN HORSE-RACE—COMING OVER THE SCRATCH" title="" /> +<span class="caption">AN INDIAN HORSE-RACE—COMING OVER THE SCRATCH<br /><i>Drawing by Frederic Remington</i></span> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + +<h1>INDIAN STORIES</h1> + +<div class='big'><div class='center'>RETOLD FROM ST. NICHOLAS<br /><br /><br /></div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 199px;"> +<img src="images/titlepage.png" width="199" height="250" alt="Indian" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'> +PUBLISHED BY THE CENTURY CO.<br /> +NEW YORK MCMVII<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'> +Copyright, 1877, 1878, 1879, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">Scribner & Co.</span><br /> +<br /> +Copyright, 1884, 1888, 1889, 1893, 1894, 1896, 1899, 1900, 1904, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Century Co.</span><br /> +<br /> +THE DEVINNE PRESS<br /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></p> + +<h2>PUBLISHER'S NOTE</h2> + + +<div class='unindent'><span class="smcap">This</span> collection of Indian stories is the first in a +series of volumes of historic tales retold from "St. +Nicholas."</div> + +<p>The books do not pretend to give anything like +connected history, but by means of the story that +thrills and interests they impart the real spirit of +the times they depict in a way no youthful reader +will be likely to forget.</p> + +<p>Most of the stories in this book a boy of eight or +nine can read for himself, and these are the years +of his school life when he is being taught something +of our colonial history and of the myths and +legends of primitive man. Thus these stories, +while delighting many children and tempting +them to read "out of hours," will serve a very useful +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span>purpose.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Onatoga's Sacrifice</span></td><td align='right'> <i>John Dimitry</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Waukewa's Eagle</span></td><td align='right'> <i>James Buckham</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Fourth of July Among the Indians</span></td><td align='right'> <i>W. P. Hooper</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Boy's Visit To Chief Joseph</span></td><td align='right'> <i>Erskine Wood</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Little Moccasin's Ride on The Thunder-Horse</span></td><td align='right'> <i>Colonel Guido Ilges</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Little First Man and the Little First Woman</span></td><td align='right'> <i>William M. Cary</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Fun Among the Red Boys</span></td><td align='right'> <i>Julian Ralph</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Children of Zuñi</span></td><td align='right'> <i>Maria Brace Kimball</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Indian Girl and Her Messenger-bird</span></td><td align='right'> <i>George W. Ranck</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">How the Stone-age Children Played</span></td><td align='right'> <i>Charles C. Abbott</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Games and Sports of the Indian Boy</span></td><td align='right'> <i>Dr. Charles Alexander Eastman</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An Old-time Thanksgiving</span></td><td align='right'> <i>M. Eloise Talbot</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Some Indian Dolls</span></td><td align='right'> <i>Olive Thorne Miller</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Walking Purchase</span></td><td align='right'> <i>George Wheeler</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The First Americans</span></td><td align='right'> <i>F. S. Dellenbaugh</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span></p> +<h2>INDIAN STORIES</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> + +<h2>INDIAN LULLABY</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +Sleep, sleep, my boy; the Chippewas<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are far away—are far away.</span><br /> +Sleep, sleep, my boy; prepare to meet<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The foe by day—the foe by day!</span><br /> +The cowards will not dare to fight<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till morning break—till morning break.</span><br /> +Sleep, sleep, my child, while still 'tis night;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then bravely wake—then bravely wake!</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2>INDIAN STORIES</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ONATOGA'S SACRIFICE</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY JOHN DIMITRY</div> + + +<div class='cap'>ONCE, in the long ago, before the white man +had heard of the continent on which we +live, red men, who were brave and knew not what +fear was in battle, trembled at the mention of a +great man-eating bird that had lived before the +time told of in the traditions known of their oldest +chiefs.</div> + +<p>This bird, which, according to the Indian legends, +ate men, was known as the <span class="smcap">Piasau</span>.</p> + +<p>The favorite haunt of this terrible bird was a +bluff on the Mississippi River, a short distance +above the site of the present city of Alton, Illinois. +There it was said to lie in wait, and to keep watch +over the broad, open prairies. Whenever some +rash Indian ventured out alone to hunt upon this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +fatal ground, he became the monster's prey. The +legend says that the bird, swooping down with the +fierce swiftness of a hawk, seized upon its victim +and bore him to a gloomy cave wherein it +made its horrid feasts. The monster must have +had an insatiable appetite or a prolonged existence, +for tradition declares that it depopulated +whole villages. Then it was that the wise men +began to see visions and to prophesy the speedy +extinction of the tribe. Years of its ravages followed +one upon another, until at length, according +to the legend, was lost all reckoning of the +time when first that strange, foul creature came to +scourge their sunny plains. The aged men, whose +youth was but a dim memory, could say only that +the bird was as it had always been. None like it +had ever been heard of save in vague traditions.</p> + +<p>There was one, Onatoga, who began to ponder.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 333px;"> +<img src="images/illus013.jpg" width="333" height="475" alt="ONATOGA IN THE FOREST" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ONATOGA IN THE FOREST</span> +</div> + +<p>Now, Onatoga was the great leader of the Illini; +one whose name was spoken with awe even in +the distant wigwams north of the Great Lake. +Long had he grieved and wondered over the will +of the Great Spirit; that he should look upon the +men of the Western prairies, not as warriors, but +as deer or bison, only fit to fill the maw of so pestilent +a thing as this monstrous bird! Before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +new moon began to grow upon the face of the sky, +Onatoga's resolve was taken. He would go to +some spot deep in the forest where by fasting and +prayer his spirit would become so pure that the +Great Master of Life would hear him and once +again be kind and turn His face back, in light, +upon the Illini.</p> + +<p>Stealing away from his tribe in the night, he +plunged far into the trackless forest. Then, +blackening his face, for a whole moon he fasted. +The moon waxed full and then waned; but no +vision came to assure him that the Great Spirit +had heard his prayers. Only one more night remained. +Wearied and sorrow-worn, he closed his +eyes. But, through the deep sleep that fell upon +him, came the voice of the Great Spirit. And this +is the message that came to Onatoga, as he lay +sleeping in body but, in his soul, awake:</p> + +<p>"Arise, Chief of the Illini! Thou shalt save +thy race. Choose thou twenty of thy warriors; +noble-hearted, strong-armed, eagle-eyed. Put in +each warrior's hand a bow. Give to each an +arrow dipped in the venom of the snake. Seek +then the man whose heart loveth the Great Spirit. +Let him not fear to look the Piasau in the face; +but see that the warriors, with ready bows, stand +near in the shadow of the trees."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + +<p>Onatoga awoke; strong, though he had fasted +a month; happy, though he knew he was soon to +die! Who, but he, the Great Chief of the Illini, +should die for his people—for was it not death to +look on the face of the Piasau?</p> + +<p>Binding his moccasins firmly upon his feet, he +washed the marks of grief from his face, and +painted it with the brightest vermilion and blue. +Thus, in the splendid colors of a triumphant warrior, +he returned homeward. All was silent in the +village when, in the gray light of early day, he +entered his lodge. Soon the joyful news was +known. From lodge to lodge it spread until the +last wigwam was reached. Onatoga's quest was +successful!</p> + +<p>Then the warriors began to gather. Furtively, +even in their gladness, they sought his lodge, for +the fear of the Piasau was over all. A solemn +awe fell upon them as they gathered around the +chief, who, it was whispered, had heard the voice +of the Great Spirit. Without, on that high bluff, +they knew that the fiend-bird crouched, waiting +for the morning light to reveal its prey. Within, +in sorrowing silence, they heard how the people +could be saved; but the hearts of the warriors +were heavy. All knew the sacrifice demanded—their +bravest and their best!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illus016.jpg" width="450" height="339" alt=""ONATOGA, NEVER CEASING HIS CHANT, FACED THE PIASAU FEARLESSLY"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"ONATOGA, NEVER CEASING HIS CHANT, FACED THE PIASAU FEARLESSLY"</span> +</div> + +<p>Onatoga chose his twenty warriors and appointed +them their place, where the rolling prairie +was broken by the edge of the forest. Then, when +the sun shot its first long shafts of light across the +level grasses, the chief walked slowly forth and +stood alone upon the prairie. The world in the +morning light was beautiful to Onatoga's eyes. +The flowers beneath his feet seemed to smile, and +poured forth richest perfumes; the sun was glorious +in its golden breast-plate, to do him honor; +while the lark and the mock-bird sang his praise +in joyous songs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had not long to wait. Soon, afar off, the +dreaded Piasau was seen moving heavily through +the clear morning air. Onatoga, drawing himself +to the full measure of his lofty height, raised his +death-song. The dull flutter of huge wings came +nearer, and a great shadow came rushing over the +sunlit fields. Onatoga, never ceasing his chant, +faced the Piasau fearlessly. A sudden fierce +swoop downward! In that very moment, twenty +poisoned arrows, loosed by twenty faithful hands, +sped true to their aim. With a scream that the +bluffs sent rolling back in sharp and deafening +echoes, the foul monster dropped dead! The +Great Spirit loved the man who had been willing +to sacrifice his life for his people. In the very instant +when death seemed sure, he covered the +heart of Onatoga with a shield; and he suffered +not the wind to blow aside a single arrow from its +mark,—the body of the fated Piasau.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 347px;"> +<img src="images/illus018.jpg" width="347" height="475" alt=""CUNNING CARVERS CUT DEEP INTO THE ROCK THE FORM OF THE PIASAU"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"CUNNING CARVERS CUT DEEP INTO THE ROCK THE FORM OF THE PIASAU"</span> +</div> + +<p>Great were the rejoicings that followed and +rich were the feasts that were held in honor of +Onatoga. The Illini resolved that the story of the +great deliverance and of the courageous love of +Onatoga should not die, though they themselves +should pass away. The cunning carvers of the +tribe cut deep into the living rock of the bluff the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +terrible form of the Piasau. And, in later years, +when young children asked the meaning of this +great figure, so unlike any of the birds that they +knew upon their rivers and their prairies, then the +fathers would tell them the story of the Piasau, +and how the Great Spirit had found, in Onatoga, +a warrior who loved his fellow-men better than he +loved his own life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> +<h2>WAUKEWA'S EAGLE</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY JAMES BUCKHAM</div> + + +<div class='cap'>ONE day, when the Indian boy Waukewa was +hunting along the mountain-side, he found +a young eagle with a broken wing, lying at the +base of a cliff. The bird had fallen from an aery +on a ledge high above, and being too young to fly, +had fluttered down the cliff and injured itself so +severely that it was likely to die. When Waukewa +saw it he was about to drive one of his sharp +arrows through its body, for the passion of the +hunter was strong in him, and the eagle plunders +many a fine fish from the Indian's drying-frame. +But a gentler impulse came to him as he saw the +young bird quivering with pain and fright at his +feet, and he slowly unbent his bow, put the arrow +in his quiver, and stooped over the panting eaglet. +For fully a minute the wild eyes of the wounded +bird and the eyes of the Indian boy, growing gentler +and softer as he gazed, looked into one another. +Then the struggling and panting of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +young eagle ceased; the wild, frightened look +passed out of its eyes, and it suffered Waukewa to +pass his hand gently over its ruffled and draggled +feathers. The fierce instinct to fight, to defend its +threatened life, yielded to the charm of the tenderness +and pity expressed in the boy's eyes; and +from that moment Waukewa and the eagle were +friends.</div> + +<p>Waukewa went slowly home to his father's +lodge, bearing the wounded eaglet in his arms. +He carried it so gently that the broken wing gave +no twinge of pain, and the bird lay perfectly still, +never offering to strike with its sharp beak the +hands that clasped it.</p> + +<p>Warming some water over the fire at the lodge, +Waukewa bathed the broken wing of the eagle +and bound it up with soft strips of skin. Then +he made a nest of ferns and grass inside the lodge, +and laid the bird in it. The boy's mother looked +on with shining eyes. Her heart was very tender. +From girlhood she had loved all the creatures of +the woods, and it pleased her to see some of her +own gentle spirit waking in the boy.</p> + +<p>When Waukewa's father returned from hunting, +he would have caught up the young eagle and +wrung its neck. But the boy pleaded with him so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +eagerly, stooping over the captive and defending +it with his small hands, that the stern warrior +laughed and called him his "little squaw-heart." +"Keep it, then," he said, "and nurse it until it is +well. But then you must let it go, for we will not +raise up a thief in the lodges." So Waukewa +promised that when the eagle's wing was healed +and grown so that it could fly, he would carry it +forth and give it its freedom.</p> + +<p>It was a month—or, as the Indians say, a moon—before +the young eagle's wing had fully mended +and the bird was old enough and strong enough +to fly. And in the meantime Waukewa cared for +it and fed it daily, and the friendship between the +boy and the bird grew very strong.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 276px;"> +<img src="images/ill-p13.jpg" width="276" height="500" alt=""THE YOUNG EAGLE ROSE TOWARD THE SKY"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THE YOUNG EAGLE ROSE TOWARD THE SKY"</span> +</div> + +<p>But at last the time came when the willing captive +must be freed. So Waukewa carried it far +away from the Indian lodges, where none of the +young braves might see it hovering over and be +tempted to shoot their arrows at it, and there he +let it go. The young eagle rose toward the sky in +great circles, rejoicing in its freedom and its +strange, new power of flight. But when Waukewa +began to move away from the spot, it came +swooping down again; and all day long it followed +him through the woods as he hunted. At<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +dusk, when Waukewa shaped his course for the +Indian lodges, the eagle would have accompanied +him. But the boy suddenly slipped into a hollow +tree and hid, and after a long time the eagle +stopped sweeping about in search of him and flew +slowly and sadly away.</p> + +<p>Summer passed, and then winter; and spring +came again, with its flowers and birds and swarming +fish in the lakes and streams. Then it was +that all the Indians, old and young, braves and +squaws, pushed their light canoes out from shore +and with spear and hook waged pleasant war +against the salmon and the red-spotted trout. +After winter's long imprisonment, it was such joy +to toss in the sunshine and the warm wind and +catch savory fish to take the place of dried meats +and corn!</p> + +<p>Above the great falls of the Apahoqui the +salmon sported in the cool, swinging current, +darting under the lee of the rocks and leaping full +length in the clear spring air. Nowhere else were +such salmon to be speared as those which lay +among the riffles at the head of the Apahoqui rapids. +But only the most daring braves ventured to +seek them there, for the current was strong, and +should a light canoe once pass the danger-point<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +and get caught in the rush of the rapids, nothing +could save it from going over the roaring falls.</p> + +<p>Very early in the morning of a clear April day, +just as the sun was rising splendidly over the +mountains, Waukewa launched his canoe a half-mile +above the rapids of the Apahoqui, and floated +downward, spear in hand, among the salmon-riffles. +He was the only one of the Indian lads +who dared fish above the falls. But he had been +there often, and never yet had his watchful eye +and his strong paddle suffered the current to +carry his canoe beyond the danger-point. This +morning he was alone on the river, having risen +long before daylight to be first at the sport.</p> + +<p>The riffles were full of salmon, big, lusty fellows, +who glided about the canoe on every side +in an endless silver stream. Waukewa plunged +his spear right and left, and tossed one glittering +victim after another into the bark canoe. So absorbed +in the sport was he that for once he did not +notice when the head of the rapids was reached +and the canoe began to glide more swiftly among +the rocks. But suddenly he looked up, caught his +paddle, and dipped it wildly in the swirling water. +The canoe swung sidewise, shivered, held its own +against the torrent, and then slowly, inch by inch,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +began to creep upstream toward the shore. But +suddenly there was a loud, cruel snap, and the +paddle parted in the boy's hands, broken just +above the blade! Waukewa gave a cry of despairing +agony. Then he bent to the gunwale of +his canoe and with the shattered blade fought desperately +against the current. But it was useless. +The racing torrent swept him downward; the +hungry falls roared tauntingly in his ears.</p> + +<p>Then the Indian boy knelt calmly upright in +the canoe, facing the mist of the falls, and folded +his arms. His young face was stern and lofty. +He had lived like a brave hitherto—now he would +die like one.</p> + +<p>Faster and faster sped the doomed canoe toward +the great cataract. The black rocks glided +away on either side like phantoms. The roar of +the terrible waters became like thunder in the +boy's ears. But still he gazed calmly and sternly +ahead, facing his fate as a brave Indian should. +At last he began to chant the death-song, which +he had learned from the older braves. In a few +moments all would be over. But he would come +before the Great Spirit with a fearless hymn upon +his lips.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a shadow fell across the canoe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +Waukewa lifted his eyes and saw a great eagle +hovering over, with dangling legs, and a spread +of wings that blotted out the sun. Once more +the eyes of the Indian boy and the eagle met; and +now it was the eagle who was master!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 370px;"> +<img src="images/ill-p19.jpg" width="370" height="600" alt=""HE AND THE STRUGGLING EAGLE WERE FLOATING OUTWARD AND DOWNWARD"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"HE AND THE STRUGGLING EAGLE WERE FLOATING OUTWARD AND DOWNWARD"</span> +</div> + +<p>With a glad cry the Indian boy stood up in his +canoe, and the eagle hovered lower. Now the +canoe tossed up on that great swelling wave that +climbs to the cataract's edge, and the boy lifted his +hands and caught the legs of the eagle. The next +moment he looked down into the awful gulf of +waters from its very verge. The canoe was +snatched from beneath him and plunged down the +black wall of the cataract; but he and the struggling +eagle were floating outward and downward +through the cloud of mist. The cataract roared +terribly, like a wild beast robbed of its prey. The +spray beat and blinded, the air rushed upward as +they fell. But the eagle struggled on with his +burden. He fought his way out of the mist and +the flying spray. His great wings threshed the +air with a whistling sound. Down, down they +sank, the boy and the eagle, but ever farther from +the precipice of water and the boiling whirlpool +below. At length, with a fluttering plunge, the +eagle dropped on a sand-bar below the whirlpool,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +and he and the Indian boy lay there a minute, +breathless and exhausted. Then the eagle slowly +lifted himself, took the air under his free wings, +and soared away, while the Indian boy knelt on +the sand, with shining eyes following the great +bird till he faded into the gray of the cliffs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> +<h2>A FOURTH OF JULY AMONG THE INDIANS</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY W. P. HOOPER</div> + + +<div class='cap'>INDIANS—real Indians—real, +live Indians—were +what we, like all +boys, wanted to +see; and this was +why, after leaving the railroad +on which we had been traveling +for several days and +nights, we found ourselves at +last in a big canvas-covered +wagon lumbering across the +monotonous prairie.</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 191px;"> +<img src="images/illus028.png" width="191" height="250" alt="Indian smoking pipe" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>We were on our way to see +a celebration of the Fourth of +July at a Dakota Indian agency.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon of a hot summer's +day. We had been riding since early morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +and had not met a living creature—not even a +bird or a snake. Only those who have experienced +it know how wearying to the eyes it is to +gaze all day long, and see nothing but the sky and +the grass.</p> + +<p>However, an hour before sunset we <i>did</i> see +something. At first, it looked like a mere speck +against the sky; then it seemed like a bush or a +shrub; but it rapidly increased in size as we approached. +Then, with the aid of our field-glass, +we saw it was a man on horseback. No, not exactly +that, either; it was an Indian chief riding an +Indian pony. Now, I have seen Indians in the +East—"Dime Museum Indians." I have seen +the Indians who travel with the circus—yes, and +I have seen the untutored savages who sell bead-work +at Niagara Falls; but this one was different—he +was quite different. I felt sure that he was +a genuine Indian. He was unlike the Indians I +had seen in the East. The most striking difference +was that this one presented a grand unwashed +effect. It must have required years of +patient industry in avoiding the wash-bowl, and +great good luck in dodging the passing showers, +for him to acquire the rich effect of color which he +displayed. Though it was one of July's hottest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +days, he had on his head an arrangement made of +fur, with head trimmings and four black-tipped +feathers; a long braid of his hair, wound with +strips of fur, hung down in front of each ear, and +strings of beads ornamented his neck. He wore +a calico shirt, with tin bands on his arms above +the elbow; a blanket was wrapped around his +waist; his leggings had strips of beautiful bright +bead-work, and his moccasins were ornamented +in the same style. But in his right hand he was +holding a most murderous-looking instrument. +It was a long wooden club, into one end of which +three sharp, shining steel knife-blades were set. +Though I had been complaining of the heat, still I +now felt chilly as I looked at the weapon, and saw +how well it matched the expression of his cruel +mouth and piercing eyes.</p> + +<p>He passed on while we were trying to make a +sketch of him. However, the next day, an interpreter +brought him around, and, for a small piece +of tobacco, he was glad to pose while the sketch +was being finished. We learned his name was +"Can-h-des-ka-wan-ji-dan" (One Hoop).</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 325px;"> +<img src="images/illus031.png" width="325" height="400" alt=""ONE HOOP" IN HIS SUMMER COSTUME" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"ONE HOOP" IN HIS SUMMER COSTUME</span> +</div> + +<p>A few moments later, we passed an iron post set +firmly into the ground. It marked one of the +boundaries of the Indian Reservation. We were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +now on a tract of land set aside by the United +States Government as the living-ground of sixteen +hundred "Santee" Sioux Indians. We soon +saw more Indians, who, like us, seemed to be moving +toward the little village at the Indian agency. +Each group had put their belongings into a big<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +bundle, and strapped it upon long poles, which +were fastened at one end to the back of a pony. +In this bundle the little papooses rode in great +comfort, looking like blackbirds peering from a +nest. In some cases, an older child would be riding +in great glee on the pony's back among the +poles. The family baggage seemed about equally +distributed between the pony and the squaw who +led him. She was preceded by her lord and master, +the noble red Indian, who carried no load except +his long pipe.</p> + +<p>The next thing of interest was what is called a +Red River wagon. It was simply a cart with two +large wheels, the whole vehicle made of wood. +As the axles are never oiled, the Red River carry-all +keeps up a most terrible squeaking. This +charming music-box was drawn by one ox, and +contained an Indian, who was driving with a +whip. His wife and children were seated on the +bottom of this jolting and shrieking cart.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 352px;"> +<img src="images/illus033.png" width="352" height="500" alt="AN INDIAN ENCAMPMENT FOR THE NIGHT" title="" /> +<span class="caption">AN INDIAN ENCAMPMENT FOR THE NIGHT</span> +</div> + +<p>As we neared the agency buildings, we passed +many Indians who had settled for the night. +They chose the wooded ravines, near streams, by +which to put up their tents, or "tepees," which +consisted of long poles covered with patched and +smoke-stained canvas, with two openings, one at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +the top for a "smoke-hole" and the other for a +door, through which any one must crawl in order +to enter the domestic circle of the gentle savage. +We entered several tepees, making ourselves welcome +by gifts of tobacco to every member of the +family. That night, after reaching the agency +and retiring to our beds, we dreamed of smoking +great big pipes, with stems a mile long, which +were passed to us by horrible-looking black +witches. But morning came at last,—and <i>such</i> +a morning!</p> + +<p>That Fourth of July morning I shall never forget. +We were awakened by the most blood-curdling +yells that ever pierced the ears of three white +boys. It was the Indian war-whoop. I found +myself instinctively feeling for my back hair, and +regretting the distance to the railroad. We lingered +indoors in a rather terrified condition, until +we found out that this was simply the beginning +of the day's celebration. It was the "sham-fight," +but it looked real enough when the Indians +came tearing by, their ponies seeming to enter +into the excitement as thoroughly as their riders. +There were some five hundred, in full frills and +war-paint, and all giving those terrible yells.</p> + +<p>Their costumes were simple, but gay in color—paint,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +feathers, and more paint, with an occasional +shirt.</p> + +<p>For weapons they carried guns, rifles, and long +spears. Bows and arrows seemed to be out of +style. A few had round shields on their left arms.</p> + +<p>Most of the tepees had been collected together +and pitched so as to form a large circle, and their +wagons were placed outside this circle so as to +make a sort of protection for the defending party. +The attacking party, brandishing their weapons +in the air with increased yells, rushed their excited +and panting ponies up the slope toward the +tepees, where they were met by a rapid discharge +of blank cartridges and powder. Some of the ponies +became frightened and unmanageable, several +riders were unhorsed, and general confusion +prevailed. The intrenched party, in the meantime, +rushed out from behind their defenses, +climbing on top of their wagons, yelling and +dancing around like demons. Added to this, the +sight of several riderless ponies flying wildly from +the tumult made the sham-fight have a terribly +realistic look.</p> + +<p>After the excitement was over, the regular +games which had been arranged for the day +began.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus036.png" width="600" height="303" alt="THE SHAM-FIGHT" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE SHAM-FIGHT</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the foot-races, the costumes were so slight +that there was nothing to describe—simply paint +in fancy patterns, moccasins, and a girdle of red +flannel. But how they could run! I did not suppose +anything on two legs could go so fast. The +lacrosse costumes were bright and attractive. +The leader of one side wore a shirt of soft, tanned +buck-skin, bead-work and embroidery on the +front, long fringe on the shoulders, bands around +the arms, and deep fringe on the bottom of the +skirt. The legs were bare to the knee, and from +there down to the toes was one mass of fine glittering +bead-work. In the game, there were a +hundred Indians engaged on each side. The +game was long, but exciting, being skilfully +played. The grounds extended about a mile in +length. The ball was the size of a common baseball, +and felt almost as solid as a rock, the center +being of lead. The shape of the Indian lacrosse +stick is shown in the sketch.</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 163px;"> +<img src="images/illus038.png" width="163" height="350" alt="SHA-KE-TO-PA, A YOUNG BRAVE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SHA-KE-TO-PA, A YOUNG BRAVE</span> +</div> +<p>Then came games on horseback. But the most +interesting performance of the whole day, and one +in which they all manifested an absorbing interest, +was the dinner.</p> + + +<p>At 3 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> several oxen had been butchered, and +from that time till the dinner was served all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +old squaws had their hands +full. Fires were made in long +lines, poles placed over them, +and high black pots, kettles, +and zinc pails filled with a +combination of things, including +beef and water, were suspended +there and carefully +tended by ancient Indian ladies +in picturesque, witch-like +costumes, who gently stirred +the boiling bouillion with +pieces of wood, while other +seemingly more ancient and +worn-out-looking squaws +brought great bundles of wood from the ravines, +tied up in blankets and swung over their shoulders. +Think of a dinner for sixteen hundred noble +chiefs and braves, stalwart head-men, young +bucks, old squaws, girls, and children! And such +queer-looking children—some dressed in full war +costume, some in the most approved dancing +dresses.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 348px;"> +<img src="images/illus039.png" width="348" height="395" alt=""TAKING A SPOONFUL OF THE SOUP, HE POURED IT UPON THE GROUND."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"TAKING A SPOONFUL OF THE SOUP, HE POURED IT UPON THE GROUND."</span> +</div> + +<p>One little boy, whose name was Sha-ke-to-pa +(Four Nails), had five feathers—big ones, too—in +his hair. His face was painted; he wore great +round ear-rings, and rows of beads and claws<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +around his neck; bands of beads on his little bare +brown arms; embroidered leggings and beautiful +moccasins, and a long piece of red cloth hanging +from his waist. In fact, he was as gaily dressed +as a grown-up Indian man, and he had a cunning +little war-club, all ornamented and painted. +When the dinner was nearly ready, the men began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +to seat themselves in a long curved line. +Behind them, the women and children were gathered. +When everything was ready, a chief wearing +a long arrangement of feathers hanging from +his back hair and several bead pouches across his +shoulders, with a long staff in his +left hand, walked into the center +of the circle. Taking a spoonful +of the soup, he held it high +in the air, and then, turning +slowly around, chanting a song, +he poured the contents of the +spoon upon the ground. This, +an interpreter explained to us, +was done to appease the spirits +of the air. After this, the old squaws limped +nimbly around with the pails of soup and other +food, serving the men. After they were all +bountifully and repeatedly helped, the women and +children, who had been patiently waiting, were +allowed to gather about the fragments and half-empty +pots and finish the repast, which they did +with neatness and despatch.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 166px;"> +<img src="images/illus040.png" width="166" height="250" alt="A WAITRESS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A WAITRESS</span> +</div> + +<p>Then the warriors lay around and smoked their +long-stem pipes, while the young men prepared +for the pony races.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>The first of the races was "open to all," and +more than a hundred ponies and their riders were +arranged in a row. Some of the ponies were very +spirited, and seemed fully to realize what was +going to take place, and they would persist in +pushing ahead of the line. Then the other riders +would start their ponies; then the whole line +would have to be reformed. But finally they +were all started, and such shouting, and such +waving of whips in the air!—and how the little +ponies did jump! When the race was over, how +we all crowded around the winner, and how proud +the pony as well as the rider seemed to feel! +Now we had a better chance to examine the ponies +than ever before, and some were very handsome. +And such prices! Think of buying a beautiful +three-year-old cream-colored pony for twenty dollars!</p> + +<p>But as the hour of sunset approached, the interest +in the races vanished, and so did most of +the braves. They sought the seclusion of their +bowers, to adorn themselves for the grand "grass +dance," which was to begin at sunset.</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 165px;"> +<img src="images/illus042.png" width="165" height="400" alt="HOLIDAY CLOTHES AND EVERY-DAY CLOTHES" title="" /> +<span class="caption">HOLIDAY CLOTHES AND EVERY-DAY CLOTHES</span> +</div> + +<p>What a contrast between their every-day dress +and their dancing costumes! The former consists +of a blanket more or less tattered and torn, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +the gorgeousness of the latter discourages a description +in words; so I refer you to the pictures. +Of course, we were eager to purchase some of the +Indian finery, but it was +a bad time to trade successfully +with the Indians. +They were too much taken +up with the pleasures of the +day to care to turn an honest +penny by parting with +any of their ornaments. +However, we succeeded in +buying a big war-club set +with knives, some pipes +with carved stems a yard +long, a few knife-sheaths +and pouches, glittering with +beads, and several pairs of +beautiful moccasins,—most +of which now adorn a New +York studio.</p> + + +<p>Soon the highly decorated +red men silently assembled +inside a large space inclosed by bushes +stuck into the ground. This was their dance-hall. +The squaws were again shut out, as, according to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +Santee Sioux custom, they are not allowed to join +in the dances with the men. The Indians, as they +came in, sat quietly down around the sides of the +inclosure. The musicians were gathered around +a big drum, on which they pounded with short +sticks, while they sang a sort of wild, weird chant. +The effect, to an uneducated white man's ear, was +rather depressing, but it seemed very pleasing to +the Indians.</p> + +<p>The ball was opened by an old chief, who, rising +slowly, beckoned the others to follow him. In +his right hand the leader carried a wooden gun, +ornamented with eagles' feathers; in the left he +held a short stick, with bells attached to it. He +wore a cap of otter skin, from which hung a long +train. His face was carefully painted in stripes +of blue and yellow.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus043.png" width="600" height="416" alt="THE DANCE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE DANCE</span> +</div> + +<p>At first, they all moved slowly, jumping twice +on each foot; then, as the musicians struck up a +more lively pounding and a more inspiring song, +the dancers moved with more rapidity, giving an +occasional shout and waving their arms in the air. +As they grew warmer and more excited, the musicians +redoubled their exertions on the drum and +changed their singing into prolonged howls; then +one of them, dropping his drumsticks, sprang to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +his feet, and, waving his hands over his head, he +yelled till he was breathless, urging on the dancers. +This seemed to be the finishing touch. The +orchestra and dancers seemed to vie with each +other as to who should make the greater noise. +Their yells were deafening, and, brandishing +their knives and tomahawks, they sprang around +with wonderful agility. Of course, this intense +excitement could last but a short time; the voices +of the musicians began to fail, and, finally, with +one last grand effort, they all gave a terrible +shout, and then all was silence. The dancers +crawled back to their places around the inclosure, +and sank exhausted on the grass. But soon some +supple brave regained enough strength to rise. +The musicians slowly recommenced, other dancers +came forward, and the "mad dance" was +again in full blast. And thus the revels went on, +hour after hour, all night, and continued even +through the following day. But there was a curious +fascination about it, and, tired as we were +after the long day, we stood there looking on hour +after hour. Finally, after midnight had passed, +we gathered our Indian purchases about us, including +two beautiful ponies, and began our return +trip toward the railroad and civilization.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +But the monotonous sound of the Indian drum +followed us mile after mile over the prairie; in +fact, it followed us much better than my new +spotted pony.</p> + +<p>My arm aches now, as I remember how that +pony hung back.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 122px;"> +<img src="images/illus044.png" width="122" height="350" alt="" title="Indian with another pipe" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 453px;"> +<img src="images/illus046.jpg" width="453" height="600" alt="CHIEF JOSEPH" title="" /> +<span class="caption">CHIEF JOSEPH</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> +<h2>A BOY'S VISIT TO CHIEF JOSEPH</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor2'>BY ERSKINE WOOD</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>[<span class="smcap">Note</span>: The author of the sketch "A Boy's Visit to Chief Joseph" +was Erskine Wood, a boy thirteen years old. He was then +an expert shot with the rifle, and had brought down not only +small game, but bear, wolves, and deer. A true woodsman, he +was also a skilled archer and angler, having camped alone in +the woods, and lived upon the game secured by shooting and +fishing.</p> + +<p>When Chief Joseph, of the Nez Percé Indians, went to the +national capital, he met Erskine, and invited the young hunter to +visit his camp some summer. So in July, 1892, the boy started +alone from Portland, Oregon, carrying his guns, bows, rods, and +blanket, and made his own way to Chief Joseph's camp on the +Nespilem River.</p> + +<p>The Indians received him hospitably, and he took part in their +annual fall hunt. He was even adopted into the tribe by the chief, +and, according to their custom, received an Indian name, <i>Ishem-tux-il-pilp</i>,—"Red Moon."</p> + +<p>Chief Joseph's band was the remnant of the tribe which, under his +leadership, fought the United States army so gallantly in 1877; +they carried on a running fight of about eleven hundred miles in +one summer.</p> + +<p>When Erskine visited him, the chief was in every way most +kind and hospitable to his young guest.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">C. E. S. Wood.]</span><br /> +</div><br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>I LEFT Portland on the third of July, 1892, +to visit Chief Joseph, who was chief of the +Nez Percé Indians. They lived on the Colville +Agency, two or three hundred miles north of the +city of Spokane, in the State of Washington.</div> + +<p>I arrived at Davenport, Washington, on the +fourth of July. There was no stage, so I had to +stay all night. I left for Fort Spokane next day, +arriving at about seven in the evening. As we +did not start for Nespilem until the seventh, I +went and visited Colonel Cook, commanding officer +at the fort. I stayed all night, and next morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +I helped the soldiers load cartridges at the +magazine. That afternoon I watched the soldiers +shooting volleys at the target range. We started +for Nespilem in a wagon at three o'clock in the +morning.</p> + +<p>The next day I went fishing in the morning, +and in the afternoon I went up the creek again, +fishing with Doctor Latham. He was doctor at +the Indian agency. The next day I went down to +Joseph's camp, where I stayed the rest of the time—about +five months—alone with the Indians. +The doctor and the teamster returned to the +agency. During my first day in the camp, I wrote<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +a letter to my mother, and bought a beaded leather +belt from one of the squaws. I stayed about camp +most of the first day; but in the afternoon I went +fishing, and caught a nice string of trout.</p> + +<p>The Indian camp is usually in two or more long +rows of tepees. Sometimes two or three families +occupy one lodge. When they are hunting and +drying meat for their winter supply, several +lodges are put together, making one big lodge +about thirty feet long, in which are two or three +fires instead of one. They say that it dries the +meat better.</p> + +<p>When game gets scarce, camp is broken and +moved to a different place. The men and boys +catch the horses, and then the squaws have to put +on the pack-saddles (made of bone and covered +with untanned deer-hide) and pack them. The +men sit around smoking and talking. When all +is ready, the different families set out, driving +their spare horses and pack-horses in front of +them. The men generally hunt in the early morning; +they get up at about two o'clock, take a vapor +bath, get breakfast, and start to hunt at about +three. Sometimes they hunt on horseback, and +sometimes on foot. They come back at about ten +or eleven o'clock, and if they have been on foot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +and have been successful they take a horse and +go and bring in the game. The meat is always +divided. If Chief Joseph is there, he divides it; +and if he is not there, somebody is chosen to fill +his place. They believe that if the heads or horns +of the slain deer are left on the ground, the other +deer feel insulted and will go away, and that +would spoil the hunting in that neighborhood. So +the heads and horns are hung up in trees. They +think, too, that when anybody dies, his spirit hovers +around the spot for several days afterward, +and so they always move the lodge. I was sitting +with Joseph in the tepee once, when a lizard +crawled in. I discovered it, and showed it to Joseph. +He was very solemn, and I asked him what +was the matter. "A medicine-man sent it here to +do me harm. You have very good eyes to discover +the tricks of the medicine-men." I was +going to throw it into the fire, but he stopped me, +saying: "If you burn it, it will make the medicine-men +angry. You must kill it some other way."</p> + +<p>The Indians' calendars are little square sticks +of wood about eight inches long. Every day they +file a little notch, and on Sunday a little hole is +made. When any one dies, the notch is painted +red or black. When they are home at Nespilem,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +they all meet out on the prairie on certain days, +and have horse-racing. They run for about two +miles. When they are on the home-stretch, about +half a mile from the goal, a lot of men get behind +them and fire pistols and whip the horses.</p> + +<p>I was out grouse-hunting with Niky Mowitz, +my Indian companion, and we started a deer. We +were near the camp, and he proposed to run +around in front of the deer and head it for camp. +So we started, and the way he got over those rocks +was a wonder! If we had not had the dogs, we +might have succeeded; but as soon as they caught +sight of the deer, they went after it like mad, and +we did not see it again. Niky Mowitz is a nephew +and adopted son of Chief Joseph; his father was +killed in the Nez Percé war of 1877. In the fall +hunt the boys are not allowed to go grouse- or +pheasant-hunting without first getting permission +of the chief in command. And it is never granted +to them until the boys have driven the horses to +water and counted them to see if any are missing.</p> + +<p>The game that the boys play most has to be +played out in open country, where there are no +sticks or underbrush. They get a little hoop, or +some of them have a little iron ring, about two +inches across. Then they range themselves in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +rows, and one rolls the ring on the ground, and +the others try to throw spears through it. The +spears are straight sticks about three feet and a +half long, with two or three little branches cut +short at the end, to keep the spear from going +clear through the ring.</p> + +<p>The Indians take "Turkish," or vapor, baths. +They have a little house in the shape of a half +globe, made of willow sticks, covered with sods +and dirt until it is about a foot thick and perfectly +tight. A hole is dug in the house and filled with +hot rocks. The Indians (usually about four) +crowd in, and then one pours hot water on the hot +rocks, making a lot of steam. They keep this up +until one's back commences to burn, and then he +gives a little yell, and somebody outside tilts up +the door (a blanket), and they all come out and +jump at once into the cold mountain-stream. +This bath is taken just before going hunting, as +they think that the deer cannot scent them after it.</p> + +<p>Only the boys indulge in wrestling. They fold +their hands behind each other's backs, and try to +throw each other by force, or by bending the back +backward. Tripping is unfair, in their opinion.</p> + +<p>The country is full of game, and we killed +many deer and a cinnamon bear. In the evening,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +when they come home, they talk about the day's +hunt, and what they saw and did. The one that +killed the bear said that when he first saw the bear +it was about fifteen yards off, and coming for him +with open jaws, and growling and roaring like +everything. He fired and wounded it. It stopped +and stood on its hind legs, roaring worse than +ever. While this was going on, the Indian slipped +around and shot it through the heart. I cut off +the claws and made a necklace out of them. The +next day they dug a hole nine feet in diameter and +built a big fire in it, and piled rocks all over the fire +to heat them. In the meantime the squaws had +cut a lot of fir-boughs and brought the bear-meat. +When the fire had burned down, and the rocks +were red hot, all the coals and things that would +smoke were raked out, and sticks laid across the +hole (it was about three feet deep). Then the fir-boughs +were dipped in water and laid over the +sticks. And then meat was laid on, and then more +fir-boughs, and then the fat (the fat between the +hide and flesh of a bear is taken off whole) is laid +on, and then more fir-boughs dipped and sprinkled +with water. Then come two or three blankets, +and, last of all, the whole thing is covered with +earth until it is perfectly tight. After about two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +hours everything is removed, and the water that +has been put on the boughs has steamed the meat +thoroughly. Then Chief Joseph comes and cuts +it up, and every family gets a portion. I helped +the squaws cook some wild carrots once (they +cook them just as they do the bear, except that +they let them cook all night), and Joseph said that +I must not do squaws' work: that a brave must +hunt, fish, fight, and take care of the horses; but +a squaw must put up the tepees, cook, sew, make +moccasins and clothes, tan the hides, and take care +of the household goods.</p> + +<p>The boys take care of the horses. They catch +them and drive them to and from their watering-places; +and the rest of the time they hunt with +bows and arrows (the boys don't have guns), and +fish and play games. The Indian dogs are fine +grouse- and pheasant-hunters, scenting the game +from a long distance, and going and treeing them; +and they will stay there and bark until the men +come. The dogs are exactly like coyotes, except +that they are smaller.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 308px;"> +<img src="images/illus055.jpg" width="308" height="525" alt="ERSKINE WOOD—NAMED BY CHIEF JOSEPH "ISHEM-TUX-IL-PILP" OR "RED MOON"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ERSKINE WOOD—NAMED BY CHIEF JOSEPH "ISHEM-TUX-IL-PILP" OR "RED MOON"</span> +</div> + +<p>Many people have said that the Indian is lazy. +In the summer he takes care of his horses, hunts +enough to keep fresh meat, fishes, and plays games. +But in the fall, when they are getting their winter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +meat, they get up regularly every morning at two +o'clock and start to hunt. And if the Indian has +been successful, as he usually is, he seldom gets +home before five o'clock. And the next morning +it is the same thing, while hoar-frost is all over +the ground. In the Fall Hunt, I was out in the +mountains with them seventy-five miles from +Nespilem (where Joseph's camp was, and about +one hundred and fifty miles from the agency), and +it was about the 15th of November; and if I had +not gone home then, I would not have been able +to go until spring. So Niky Mowitz brought me +in to Nespilem, and we made the trip (seventy-six +miles) in one day. We started at about eight +o'clock in the morning, on our ponies. We had +not been gone more than an hour when the dogs +started a deer; we rode very fast, and tried to get +a sight of it, but we couldn't.</p> + +<p>Chief Joseph did not go to the mountains with +us on this hunt, and we reached his tent in Nespilem +at about ten o'clock. When we got to the +tent, one of Joseph's squaws cooked us some supper; +and on the third day after that, I went to +Wilbur, a little town on the railroad, and from +there to Portland, where papa met me at the train.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> +<h2>LITTLE MOCCASIN'S RIDE ON THE THUNDER-HORSE</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY COLONEL GUIDO ILGES</div> + + +<div class='cap'>"LITTLE MOCCASIN" was, at the time we +speak of, fourteen years old, and about as +mischievous a boy as could be found anywhere in +the Big Horn mountains. Unlike his comrades +of the same age, who had already killed buffaloes +and stolen horses from the white men and the +Crow Indians, with whom Moccasin's tribe, the +Uncapapas, were at war, he preferred to lie under +a shady tree in the summer, or around the campfire +in winter, listening to the conversation of the +old men and women, instead of going upon expeditions +with the warriors and the hunters.</div> + +<p>The Uncapapas are a very powerful and numerous +tribe of the great Sioux Nation, and before +Uncle Sam's soldiers captured and removed +them, and before the Northern Pacific Railroad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +entered the territory of Montana, they occupied +the beautiful valleys of the Rosebud, Big and Little +Horn, Powder and Redstone rivers, all of +which empty into the grand Yellowstone Valley. +In those days, before the white man had set foot +upon these grounds, there was plenty of game, +such as buffalo, elk, antelope, deer, and bear; and, +as the Uncapapas were great hunters and good +shots, the camp of Indians to which Little Moccasin +belonged always had plenty of meat to eat +and plenty of robes and hides to sell and trade for +horses and guns, for powder and ball, for sugar +and coffee, and for paint and flour. Little Moccasin +showed more appetite than any other Indian +in camp. In fact, he was always hungry, and used +to eat at all hours, day and night. Buffalo meat +he liked the best, particularly the part taken from +the hump, which is so tender that it almost melts +in the mouth.</p> + +<p>When Indian boys have had a hearty dinner of +good meat, they generally feel very happy and +very lively. When hungry, they are sad and dull.</p> + +<p>This was probably the reason why Little Moccasin +was always so full of mischief, and always +inventing tricks to play upon the other boys. He +was a precocious and observing youngster, full of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +quaint and original ideas—never at a loss for expedients.</p> + +<p>But he was once made to feel very sorry for +having played a trick, and I must tell my young +readers how it happened.</p> + +<p>"Running Antelope," one of the great warriors +and the most noted orator of the tribe, had returned +from a hunt, and Mrs. Antelope was frying +for him a nice buffalo steak—about as large +as two big fists—over the coals. Little Moccasin, +who lived in the next street of tents, smelled the +feast, and concluded that he would have some of +it. In the darkness of the night he slowly and +carefully crawled toward the spot where Mistress +Antelope sat holding in one hand a long stick, at +the end of which the steak was frying. Little +Moccasin watched her closely, and, seeing that +she frequently placed her other hand upon the +ground beside her and leaned upon it for support, +he soon formed a plan for making her drop the +steak.</p> + +<p>He had once or twice in his life seen a pin, but +he had never owned one, and he could not have +known what use is sometimes made of them by +bad white boys. He had noticed, however, that +some of the leaves of the larger varieties of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +prickly-pear cactus-plant are covered with many +thorns, as long and as sharp as an ordinary pin.</p> + +<p>So when Mrs. Antelope again sat down and +looked at the meat to see if it was done, he slyly +placed half-a-dozen of the cactus leaves upon the +very spot of ground upon which Mrs. Antelope +had before rested her left hand.</p> + +<p>Then the young mischief crawled noiselessly +into the shade and waited for his opportunity, +which came immediately.</p> + +<p>When the unsuspecting Mrs. Antelope again +leaned upon the ground, and felt the sharp points +of the cactus leaves, she uttered a scream, and +dropped from her other hand the stick and the +steak, thinking only of relief from the sharp pain.</p> + +<p>Then, on the instant, the young rascal seized +the stick and tried to run away with it. But Running +Antelope caught him by his long hair, and +gave him a severe whipping, declaring that he +was a good-for-nothing boy, and calling him a +"coffee-cooler" and a "squaw."</p> + +<p>The other boys, hearing the rumpus, came running +up to see the fun, and they laughed and +danced over poor Little Moccasin's distress. +Often afterward they called him "coffee-cooler"; +which meant that he was cowardly and faint-hearted,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +and that he preferred staying in camp +around the fire, drinking coffee, to taking part in +the manly sports of hunting and stealing expeditions.</p> + +<p>The night after the whipping, Little Moccasin +could not sleep. The disgrace of the whipping +and the name applied to him were too much for +his vanity. He even lost his appetite, and refused +some very nice prairie-dog stew which his mother +offered him.</p> + +<p>He was thinking of something else. He must +do something brave—perform some great deed +which no other Indian had ever performed—in +order to remove this stain upon his character.</p> + +<p>But what should it be? Should he go out alone +and kill a bear? He had never fired a gun, and +was afraid that the bear might eat him. Should +he attack the Crow camp single-handed? No, no—not +he; they would catch him and scalp him +alive.</p> + +<p>All night long he was thinking and planning; +but when daylight came, he had reached no conclusion. +He must wait for the Great Spirit to +give him some ideas.</p> + +<p>During the following day he refused all food +and kept drawing his belt tighter and tighter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +around his waist every hour, till, by evening, he +had reached the last notch. This method of appeasing +the pangs of hunger, adopted by the Indians +when they have nothing to eat, is said to be +very effective.</p> + +<p>In a week's time Little Moccasin had grown +almost as thin as a bean-pole, but no inspiration +had yet revealed what he could do to redeem himself.</p> + +<p>About this time a roving band of Cheyennes, +who had been down to the mouth of the Little +Missouri, and beyond, entered the camp upon a +friendly visit. Feasting and dancing were kept +up day and night, in honor of the guests; but +Little Moccasin lay hidden in the woods nearly all +the time.</p> + +<p>During the night of the second day of their +stay, he quietly stole to the rear of the great council-tepee, +to listen to the pow-wow then going on. +Perhaps he would there learn some words of wisdom +which would give him an idea how to carry +out his great undertaking.</p> + +<p>After "Black Catfish," the great Cheyenne +warrior, had related in the flowery language of +his tribe some reminiscences of his many fights +and brave deeds, "Strong Heart" spoke. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +there was silence for many minutes, during which +the pipe of peace made the rounds, each warrior +taking two or three puffs, blowing the smoke +through the nose, pointing toward heaven, and +then handing the pipe to his left-hand neighbor.</p> + +<p>"Strong Heart," "Crazy Dog," "Bow-String," +"Dog-Fox," and "Smooth Elkhorn" spoke of the +country they had just passed through.</p> + +<p>Then again the pipe of peace was handed +round, amid profound silence.</p> + +<p>"Black Pipe," who was bent and withered with +the wear and exposure of seventy-nine winters, +and who trembled like some leafless tree shaken +by the wind, but who was sound in mind and +memory, then told the Uncapapas, for the first +time, of the approach of a great number of white +men, who were measuring the ground with long +chains, and who were being followed by "Thundering +Horses" and "Houses on Wheels." (He +was referring to the surveying parties of the +Northern Pacific Railway Company, who were +just then at work on the crossing of the Little +Missouri.)</p> + +<p>With heart beating wildly, Little Moccasin listened +to this strange story and then retired to his +own blankets in his father's tepee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now he had found the opportunity he so long +had sought! He would go across the mountains, +all by himself, look at the thundering horses and +the houses on wheels. He then would know more +than any one in the tribe, and return to the camp,—a +hero!</p> + +<p>At early morn, having provided himself with a +bow and a quiver full of arrows, without informing +any one of his plan he stole out of camp, and, +running at full speed, crossed the nearest mountain +to the East.</p> + +<p>Allowing himself little time for rest, pushing +forward by day and night, and after fording +many of the smaller mountain-streams, on the +evening of the third day of his travel he came +upon what he believed to be a well-traveled road. +But—how strange!—there were two endless iron +rails lying side by side upon the ground. Such a +curious sight he had never beheld. There were +also large poles, with glass caps, and connected +by wire, standing along the roadside. What +could all this mean?</p> + +<p>Poor Little Moccasin's brain became so bewildered +that he hardly noticed the approach of a +freight-train drawn by the "Thundering Horse."</p> + +<p>There was a shrill, long-drawn whistle, and immense<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +clouds of black smoke; and the Thundering +Horse was sniffing and snorting at a great +rate, emitting from its nostrils large streams of +steaming vapor. Besides all this, the earth, in the +neighborhood of where Little Moccasin stood, +shook and trembled as if in great fear; and to him +the terrible noises the horse made were perfectly +appalling.</p> + +<p>Gradually the snorts, and the puffing, and the +terrible noise lessened, until, all at once, they entirely +ceased. The train had come to a stand-still +at a watering tank, where the Thundering Horse +was given its drink.</p> + +<p>The rear car, or "House on Wheels," as old +Black Pipe had called it, stood in close proximity +to Little Moccasin,—who, in his bewilderment +and fright at the sight of these strange moving +houses, had been unable to move a step.</p> + +<p>But as no harm had come to him from the terrible +monster, Moccasin's heart, which had sunk +down to the region of his toes, began to rise +again; and the curiosity inherent in every Indian +boy mastered fear.</p> + +<p>He moved up, and down, and around the great +House on Wheels; then he touched it in many +places, first with the tip-end of one finger, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +finally with both hands. If he could only detach +a small piece from the house to take back to camp +with him as a trophy and as a proof of his daring +achievement! But it was too solid, and all made +of heavy wood and iron.</p> + +<p>At the rear end of the train there was a ladder, +which the now brave Little Moccasin ascended +with the quickness of a squirrel to see what there +was on top.</p> + +<p>It was gradually growing dark, and suddenly +he saw (as he really believed) the full moon approaching +him. He did not know that it was +the headlight of a locomotive coming from the +opposite direction.</p> + +<p>Absorbed in this new and glorious sight, he did +not notice the starting of his own car, until it was +too late, for, while the car moved, he dared not let +go his hold upon the brake-wheel.</p> + +<p>There he was, being carried with lightning +speed into a far-off, unknown country, over +bridges, by the sides of deep ravines, and along +the slopes of steep mountains.</p> + +<p>But the Thundering Horse never tired nor +grew thirsty again during the entire night.</p> + +<p>At last, soon after the break of day, there came +the same shrill whistle which had frightened him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +so much on the previous day; and, soon after, the +train stopped at Miles City.</p> + +<p>But, unfortunately for our little hero, there +were a great many white people in sight; and he +was compelled to lie flat upon the roof of his car, +in order to escape notice. He had heard so much +of the cruelty of the white men that he dared not +trust himself among them.</p> + +<p>Soon they started again, and Little Moccasin +was compelled to proceed on his involuntary journey, +which took him away from home and into +unknown dangers.</p> + +<p>At noon, the cars stopped on the open prairie to +let Thundering Horse drink again. Quickly, and +without being detected by any of the trainmen, he +dropped to the ground from his high and perilous +position. Then the train left him—all alone in +an unknown country.</p> + +<p>Alone? Not exactly; for, within a few minutes, +half a dozen Crow Indians, mounted on +swift ponies, are by his side, and are lashing him +with whips and lassoes.</p> + +<p>He has fallen into the hands of the deadliest +enemies of his tribe, and has been recognized by +the cut of his hair and the shape of his moccasins.</p> + +<p>When they tired of their sport in beating poor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +Little Moccasin so cruelly, they dismounted and +tied his hands behind his back.</p> + +<p>Then they sat down upon the ground to have a +smoke and to deliberate about the treatment of +the captive.</p> + +<p>During the very severe whipping, and while +they were tying his hands, though it gave him +great pain, Little Moccasin never uttered a groan. +Indian-like, he had made up his mind to "die +game," and not to give his enemies the satisfaction +of gloating over his sufferings. This, as will +be seen, saved his life.</p> + +<p>The leader of the Crows, "Iron Bull," was in +favor of burning the hated Uncapapa at a stake, +then and there; but "Spotted Eagle," "Blind +Owl," and "Hungry Wolf" called attention to +the youth and bravery of the captive, who had +endured the lashing without any sign of fear. +Then the two other Crows took the same view. +This decided poor Moccasin's fate; and he understood +it all, although he did not speak the Crow +language, for he was a great sign-talker, and had +watched them very closely during their council.</p> + +<p>Blind Owl, who seemed the most kind-hearted +of the party, lifted the boy upon his pony, Blind +Owl himself getting up in front, and they rode at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +full speed westward to their large encampment, +where they arrived after sunset.</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin was then relieved of his bonds, +which had benumbed his hands during the long +ride, and a large dish of boiled meat was given +to him. This, in his famished condition, he relished +very much. An old squaw, one of the wives +of Blind Owl, and a Sioux captive, took pity on +him, and gave him a warm place with plenty of +blankets in her own tepee, where he enjoyed a +good rest.</p> + +<p>During his stay with the Crows, Little Moccasin +was made to do the work, which usually falls +to the lot of the squaws; and which was imposed +upon him as a punishment upon a brave enemy, +designed to break his proud spirit. He was +treated as a slave, made to haul wood and draw +water, do the cooking, and clean game. Many of +the Crow boys wanted to kill him, but his foster-mother, +"Old Looking-Glass," protected him; +and, besides, they feared that the soldiers of Fort +Custer might hear of it, if he was killed, and punish +them.</p> + +<p>Many weeks thus passed, and the poor little +captive grew more despondent and weaker in +body every day. Often his foster-mother would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +talk to him in his own language, and tell him to +be of good cheer; but he was terribly homesick +and longed to get back to the mountains on the +Rosebud, to tell the story of his daring and become +the hero which he had started out to be.</p> + +<p>One night, after everybody had gone to sleep +in camp, and the fires had gone out, Old Looking-Glass, +who had seemed to be soundly sleeping, approached +his bed and gently touched his face. +Looking up, he saw that she held a forefinger +pressed against her lips, intimating that he must +keep silence, and that she was beckoning him to +go outside.</p> + +<p>There she soon joined him; then, putting her +arm around his neck, she hastened out of the camp +and across the nearest hills.</p> + +<p>When they had gone about five miles away +from camp, they came upon a pretty little mouse-colored +pony, which Old Looking-Glass had hidden +there for Little Moccasin on the previous day.</p> + +<p>She made him mount the pony, which she called +"Blue Wing," and bade him fly toward the rising +sun, where he would find white people who would +protect and take care of him.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 359px;"> +<img src="images/illus072.png" width="359" height="450" alt=""THEY CAME UPON A PRETTY LITTLE MOUSE-COLORED PONY"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THEY CAME UPON A PRETTY LITTLE MOUSE-COLORED PONY"</span> +</div> + +<p>Old Looking-Glass then kissed Little Moccasin +upon both cheeks and the forehead, while the tears<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +ran down her wrinkled face; she also folded her +hands upon her breast and, looking up to the +heavens, said a prayer, in which she asked the +Great Spirit to protect and save the poor boy in +his flight.</p> + +<p>After she had whispered some indistinct words +into the ear of Blue Wing (who seemed to understand +her, for he nodded his head approvingly), +she bade Little Moccasin be off, and advised him +not to rest this side of the white man's settlement, +as the Crows would soon discover his absence, +and would follow him on their fleetest ponies.</p> + +<p>"But Blue Wing will save you! He can outrun +them all!"</p> + +<p>These were her parting words, as he galloped +away.</p> + +<p>In a short time the sun rose over the nearest +hill, and Little Moccasin then knew that he was +going in the right direction. He felt very happy +to be free again, although sorry to leave behind +his kind-hearted foster-mother, Looking-Glass. +He made up his mind that after a few years, when +he had grown big and become a warrior, he would +go and capture her from the hated Crows and +take her to his own tepee.</p> + +<p>He was so happy in this thought that he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +not noticed how swiftly time passed, and that already +the sun stood over his head; neither had he +urged Blue Wing to run his swiftest; but that +good little animal kept up a steady dog-trot, without, +as yet, showing the least sign of being tired.</p> + +<p>But what was the sudden noise which was +heard behind him? Quickly he turned his head, +and, to his horror, he beheld about fifty mounted +Crows coming toward him at a run, and swinging +in their hands guns, pistols, clubs, and knives!</p> + +<p>His old enemy, Iron Bull, was in advance, and +under his right arm he carried a long lance, with +which he intended to spear Little Moccasin.</p> + +<p>Moccasin's heart stood still for a moment with +fear; he knew that this time they would surely +kill him if caught. He seemed to have lost all +power of action.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer came Iron Bull, shouting at +the top of his voice.</p> + +<p>But Blue Wing now seemed to understand the +danger of Moccasin's situation; he pricked up his +ears, snorted a few times, made several short +jumps, fully to arouse Moccasin, who remained +paralyzed with fear, and then, like a bird, fairly +flew over the prairie, as if his little hoofs were not +touching the ground.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>Little Moccasin, too, was now awakened to his +peril, and he patted and encouraged Blue Wing; +while, from time to time, he looked back over his +shoulder to watch the approach of Iron Bull.</p> + +<p>Thus they went, on and on; over ditches and +streams, rocks and hills, through gulches and +valleys. Blue Wing was doing nobly, but the +pace could not last forever.</p> + +<p>Iron Bull was now only about five hundred +yards behind and gaining on him.</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin felt the cold sweat pouring +down his face. He had no firearm, or he would +have stopped to shoot at Iron Bull.</p> + +<p>Blue Wing's whole body seemed to tremble beneath +his young rider, as if the pony was making +a last desperate effort, before giving up from exhaustion.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, Little Moccasin did not know +how to pray, or he might have found some comfort +and help thereby; but in those moments, when +a terrible death was so near to him, he did the +next best thing: he thought of his mother and his +father, of his little sisters and brothers, and also +of Looking-Glass, his kind old foster-mother.</p> + +<p>Then he felt better and was imbued with fresh +courage. He again looked back, gave one loud,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +defiant yell at Iron Bull, and then went out of +sight over some high ground.</p> + +<p>Ki-yi-yi-yi! There is the railroad station just +in front, only about three hundred yards away. +He sees white men around the buildings, who will +protect him.</p> + +<p>At this moment Blue Wing utters one deep +groan, stumbles, and falls to the ground. Fortunately, +though, Little Moccasin has received no +hurt. He jumps up, and runs toward the station +as fast as his weary legs can carry him.</p> + +<p>At this very moment Iron Bull with several of +his braves came in sight again, and, realizing the +helpless condition of the boy, they all gave a shout +of joy, thinking that in a few minutes they would +capture and kill him.</p> + +<p>But their shouting had been heard by some of +the white men, who at once concluded to protect +the boy, if he deserved aid.</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin and Iron Bull reached the door +of the station-building at nearly the same moment; +but the former had time enough to dart inside +and hide under the table of the telegraph +operator.</p> + +<p>When Iron Bull and several other Crows +rushed in to pull the boy from underneath the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +table, the operator quickly took from the table +drawer a revolver, and with it drove the murderous +Crows from the premises.</p> + +<p>Then the boy had to tell his story, and he was +believed. All took pity upon his forlorn condition, +and his brave flight made them his friends.</p> + +<p>In the evening Blue Wing came up to where +Little Moccasin was resting and awaiting the arrival +of the next train, which was to take him back +to his own home.</p> + +<p>Then they both were put aboard a lightning-express +train, which took them to within a short +distance of the old camp on the Rosebud.</p> + +<p>When Little Moccasin arrived at his father's +tepee, riding beautiful Blue Wing, now rested and +frisky, the whole camp flocked around him; and +when he told them of his great daring, of his capture +and his escape, Running Antelope, the big +warrior of the Uncapapas and the most noted +orator of the tribe, proclaimed him a true hero, +and then and there begged his pardon for having +called him a "coffee-cooler." In the evening Little +Moccasin was honored by a great feast, and +the name of "Rushing Lightning," <i>Wakee-wata-keepee</i>, +was bestowed upon him—and by that +name he is known to this day.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LITTLE FIRST MAN AND THE LITTLE FIRST WOMAN</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>AN INDIAN LEGEND<br /> +<br /> +BY WILLIAM M. CARY</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>[This story has been told to the children of the Dacotah Indians +for very many years, having been handed down from generation +to generation; and it is now listened to by Indian children with as +much interest as it excited in the red-skinned boys and girls of a +thousand years ago.]</p></div> + + +<div class='cap'>ON the bank of one of the many branches of +the Missouri River—or "Big Muddy," as +it is called by the Indians on account of the color +of its waters—there lived a little boy and a little +girl. These children were very small indeed, +being no bigger than a man's finger, but very +handsome, well formed, and also quite strong, +considering their size. There were no men and +women in the world at that time, and none of the +people who told the story knew how these two +small folk came to be living on the banks of the +river. Some persons thought that they might +have been little beavers, or little turtles, who were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +so smart that they turned into a boy and a girl; +but nothing about this is known for certain. +These small people lived in a tiny lodge near the +river, feeding upon the berries that grew along +the shore. These were of great variety and many +delicious flavors. There were wild currants, +raspberries, gooseberries, service-berries, wild +plums and grapes; and of most of these, one was +sufficient to make a meal for both of the children.</div> + +<p>The little girl was very fond of the boy, and +watched over and tended him with great care. +She made him a tiny bow from a blade of grass, +with arrows to match, and he hunted grasshoppers, +crickets, butterflies, and many other small +creatures. She then made him a hunting-shirt, or +coat, from the skin of a humming-bird, ornamented +with brilliant little stones and tiny shells +found in the sand. She loved him so dearly that +no work was too much when done for him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;"> +<img src="images/illus080.png" width="388" height="600" alt="TELLING THE STORY OF THE LITTLE FIRST MAN AND THE LITTLE FIRST WOMAN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">TELLING THE STORY OF THE LITTLE FIRST MAN AND THE LITTLE FIRST WOMAN</span> +</div> +<div class="figright" style="width: 252px;"> +<img src="images/illus083.png" width="252" height="350" alt=""HE HUNTED GRASSHOPPERS"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"HE HUNTED GRASSHOPPERS"</span> +</div> +<p>One day he was out hunting on the prairie; and, +feeling tired from an unusually long tramp, he lay +down to rest and soon fell fast asleep. The wind +began to rise, after the heat of the day; but this +made him sleep the sounder, and he knew nothing +of the storm that was threatening. The clouds +rolled over from the northwestern horizon, like an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +army of blankets torn and +ragged. With flashing lightning, +the thunder-god let +loose his powers, and peal +after peal went echoing +loudly through the cañons, +up over the hills, and down +into prairies where the quaking-asp +shivered, the willows +waved, and the tall +blue-grass rolled, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +the wind passed over, like a tempest-tossed sea. +Only the stubborn aloes, the Spanish-bayonet, and +the prickly-pears kept their position. But the +storm was as brief as it was violent; and, gradually +subsiding, it passed to the southeast, leaving +nothing but a bank of clouds behind the horizon. +Everything was drenched by the heavy rain. The +flowers hung their heads, or lay crushed from the +weight of water on their tender petals, vainly +struggling to rise and rejoice that the storm had +passed away. The sage-brush looked more silvery +than ever, clothed with myriads of rain-drops, +which beaded its tiny leaves. Through all +the storm our little hero slept, the feathers of his +hunting-coat wet and flattened by the rain. When +the sun came out again and shone upon him, it +dried and shriveled this little coat until it cracked +and fell off him like the shell of an egg from a +newly hatched chicken. He soon began to feel +uncomfortable, and woke up. Evening was fast +approaching; the blue-jay chattered, the prairie-chicken +was calling its young brood to rest under +its wings for the night, the cricket had at last +sung himself to sleep, and all nature seemed to be +getting ready for a long rest. Our boy, however, +had no thought of further sleep. His active mind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +was thinking how he could revenge himself upon +the sun for his treatment of him, in thus ruining +his coat. The shadows on the plains deepened +into gloom and darkness, but still he thought and +planned out his revenge. Early in the morning +he started for home. The little girl had been anxiously +watching for him all night, and came out +to meet him, much rejoiced at his safe return; but +when she saw the condition of his coat, on which +she had labored with so much care and love, she +was very much grieved. Her tears only made +him more angry with the sun, and he set himself +to planning with greater determination by what +means he could annoy this enemy. At last +a bright idea struck him, and he at once told it to +the girl. She was delighted, and admired him the +more for his shrewdness. They soon put their +plans into practice, and began plaiting a rope of +grasses.</p> + +<p>This was a great undertaking, as the rope had +to be very long. Many moons came and went +before this rope was finished, and, when the task +was completed, the next thing to be considered +was, how they should carry or transport it to the +place where the sun rises in the morning. This +question puzzled them greatly, for the rope was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +very large and heavy, and the distance was very +great.</p> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 259px;"> +<img src="images/illus085.png" width="259" height="400" alt=""AT HOME, UNDER AN IMMENSE FERN"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"AT HOME, UNDER AN IMMENSE FERN"</span> +</div> +<p>All the animals at that time were very small +tween compared to the field-mouse, which was +then the largest quadruped in the whole world, +twice the size of any buffalo. The horse, or, as +the Indians call it, "shungatonga," meaning elk-dog, +did not then exist. It was a long time before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +the children could find a field-mouse to whom they +could appeal for aid. At last they found one at +home, sitting comfortably under an immense fern.</p> + + + +<p>The little boy then went up to him, and, after +relating his troubles, asked if he would assist in +carrying the rope. Mountains had to be crossed, +rivers swum or forded, according to their depth, +wide expanses of prairie to be passed over, forests +skirted, swamps waded, and lakes circled before +the rope and its makers could reach the place +where the sun rises. The field-mouse, after much +consideration, agreed to help the pair, and they +began their preparations by winding the rope into +a great coil, which they packed on the back of the +field-mouse. On the top of this the boy and girl +seated themselves, and the journey began. When +they came to a river which must be crossed by +swimming, the rope was taken off the mouse +and unwound; then he would take one end in +his mouth, and swim to the other side, letting it +trail out after him as he swam. This performance +had to be repeated many times before +the whole rope was landed on the opposite bank. +When this was done, he had to swim across again +and fetch the little pair, seating them on his +forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus086.png" width="400" height="282" alt="ON THE JOURNEY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ON THE JOURNEY</span> +</div> + +<p>It was hard work for the mouse, but the little +boy encouraged him to his work by promises of +reward and compliments on his extraordinary +strength. The high mountains were crossed with +great toil, and while they were on the dry plains<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +the travelers suffered for want of water. The sun +had dried up everything, and it almost seemed as +if he understood their object, for he poured down +upon them his hottest rays. Several changes of +the seasons, and many moons, had come and gone +before they reached the dense forest from behind +which the sun was accustomed to rise. They +managed to arrive at this big forest at night, so +that the sun should not see them, and then they +screened themselves in the woods, resting there +for several days. When, at last, they felt rested +and refreshed, they began their work at nightfall, +and the first thing they did was to uncoil the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +rope. The little boy then took one end of it in his +teeth, and climbed up one of the trees at the extreme +edge of the woods, where he spread it out +in the branches, making loops and slip-knots here +and there all over, from one tree to another, until +the rope looked like an immense net. Then the +mouse, finding his services no longer needed, left +them and wandered far away.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus087.png" width="400" height="195" alt="THE FIELD-MOUSE CARRYING THE LITTLE PAIR ACROSS A RIVER" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE FIELD-MOUSE CARRYING THE LITTLE PAIR ACROSS A RIVER</span> +</div> + +<p>As morning approached, the two children +quitted the wood, everything being in readiness, +and retired to a distance to watch the result of +their work. Soon they espied a pale light gleaming +behind the forest and gradually becoming +brighter and brighter. On came the sun, rolling +up in all his grandeur and fast approaching the +rope, while the two little hearts were beating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +quickly down below. In a moment he had reached +the network of rope, and then, before he knew it, +he was entangled in its meshes, and found himself +thoroughly entrapped! What a proud moment +for our hero! He compared his own size with +that of the sun, and his delight seemed beyond +bounds as he and the little girl watched the sun +struggling to free himself, getting red with fury +and rage, and pouring out his burning heat on all +surrounding things. The leaves shriveled and +dropped from the trees, the branches could be +seen to smoke, the grass curled up and withered, +and at last the forest began to burn as the +heat became more intense. It seemed as if all nature +was on fire. The joy of the children now +turned into fear. The elk, deer, and buffalo came +rushing out of the woods. The birds circled, +shrieking and crying, and all living things seemed +wild with fear.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus089.png" width="600" height="414" alt="THE CONSULTATION" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE CONSULTATION</span> +</div> + +<p>At last the field-mouse called the animals together +for a consultation as to what was best to +be done. They held a brief council, for no time +could be lost. The elk spoke up and said that as +the mouse had gone to so much trouble to carry +the rope to entrap the sun, he was the one who +ought to set him free from his entanglement.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +This was generally agreed to, and, besides, the +field-mouse was the largest animal, and had such +sharp and strong teeth that it would be easy for +him to gnaw through any rope.</p> + +<p>It was getting hotter and hotter: something +must be done quickly. The sun was blazing with +rage! The field-mouse finally yielded to the +wishes of his fellow-animals; and, rushing into +the wood, through the terrible heat and smoke, he +gnawed the rope, but in doing so was melted down +to his present size. The sun then rapidly arose, +and everything soon became all right again.</p> + +<p>The fact of the little man trapping the sun and +causing so much mischief proved his superiority +over the other animals, and they have feared him +ever since. And, according to the Indian belief, +this little man and little woman were the father +and mother of all the tribes of men.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> +<h2>FUN AMONG THE RED BOYS</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY JULIAN RALPH</div> + + +<div class='cap'>VARIOUS as are the customs of the Indians, +it is their savage, warlike natures that we +are most apt to remember. Few of us, in fact, +ever think of Indian children at all, except at the +sight of a picture of them. Little has been told or +written about the boy and girl red folk, and it +would puzzle most of my readers to say what they +suppose these children of nature look like, or do +to amuse themselves, or how they are brought up. +It will astonish most city people to hear that red +children are very like white children, just as a +lady who was out on the plains a few years ago +was astonished to find that they had skins as +smooth and soft as any lady's—no, smoother and +softer than that: as delicate and lovely as any dear +little baby's here in New York. This lady was +visiting the Blackfeet in my company, and she was +so surprised, when she happened to touch one little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +red boy's bare arm, that she went about pinching +a dozen chubby-faced boys and girls to make +herself sure that all their skins were like the coats +of ripe peaches to the touch.</div> + +<p>Whether the Indians really love their children, +or know what genuine love or affection is, I cannot +say; but they are so proud and careful of their +little ones that it amounts to the same thing so far +as the youngsters are concerned. Boy babies are +always most highly prized, because they will +grow up into warriors.</p> + +<p>The little that is taught to Indian boys must +seem to them much more like fun than instruction. +They must hear the fairy stories and the gabble +of the medicine-men or conjurers, and the tales +of bloody fights and brave and cunning deeds +which make the histories of their tribes. They +learn not to take what does not belong to them +unless it belongs to an enemy. They learn not to +be impudent to any one stronger and bigger than +themselves; they learn how to track animals and +men, how to go without food when there is not +any, how to eat up all there is <i>at once</i> when any +food is to be had, how to ride and shoot and run +and paddle, and smoke very mild tobacco. As for +the rest, they "just grow," like Topsy, and are as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +emotional and fanciful and wilful as any very +little white child ever was. They never get over +being so. The older they grow to be, the older +children they become, for they are all very much +like spoiled children as long as they live.</p> + +<p>The first Indians I ever saw, outside of a show, +were boys at play. They were Onondagas, on +their reservation near Syracuse, New York. +They were big boys of from sixteen to twenty +years old, and the game they were playing was +"snow-snakes." The earth was covered with +snow, and by dragging a stout log through this +covering they had made a narrow gutter or +trough about 500 or 700 feet long. Each youth +had his snow-snake, which is a stick about eight +feet long, and shaped something like a spear. All +the snow-snakes were alike, less than an inch +wide, half an inch thick, flat on the under side, +rounded on top, and with a very slight turn upward +at the point to suggest a serpent's head. +The "snakes" were all smoothed and of heavy +hard wood. The game was to see who could send +his the farthest along the gutter in the snow. The +young men grasped their snakes at the very end, +ran a few steps, and shot the sticks along the +trough. As one after another sped along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +snow, the serpent-like heads kept bobbing up and +down over the rough surface of the gutter precisely +like so many snakes. I bought a snow-snake, +but, though I have tried again and again, +I cannot get the knack of throwing it.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 371px;"> +<img src="images/illus096.jpg" width="371" height="600" alt="ONONDAGA INDIAN BOYS PLAYING AT "SNOW-SNAKES"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ONONDAGA INDIAN BOYS PLAYING AT "SNOW-SNAKES"</span> +</div> + +<p>But I have since seen Indian boys of many +tribes at play, and one time I saw more than a +hundred and fifty "let loose," as our own children +are in a country school-yard at recess. To be +sure, theirs is a perpetual recess, and they were at +home among the tents of their people, the Canada +Blackfeet, on the plains, within sight of the Rocky +Mountains. The smoke-browned tepees, crowned +with projecting pole-ends, and painted with figures +of animals and with gaudy patterns, were set +around in a great circle, and the children were +playing in the open, grassy space in the center. +Their fathers and mothers were as wild as any +Indians, except one or two tribes, on the continent, +but nothing of their savage natures showed +in these merry, lively, laughing, bright-faced little +ragamuffins. At their play they laughed and +screamed and hallooed. Some were running foot-races, +some were wrestling, some were on the +backs of scampering ponies; for they are sometimes +put on horseback when they are no more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +than three years old. Such were their sports, for +Indian boys play games to make them sure of aim, +certain of foot, quick in motion, and supple in +body, so that they can shoot and fight and ride +and hunt and run well. To be able to run fast is +a necessary accomplishment for an Indian. What +they call "runners" are important men in every +tribe. They are the messenger men, and many a +one among them has run a hundred miles in a day. +They cultivate running by means of foot-races. +In war they agree with the poet who sang:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"For he who fights and runs away<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">May live to fight another day";</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>and afterward, if they were taken prisoners, they +had a chance for life, in the old days, if they could +run fast enough to escape their captors and the +spears and bullets of their pursuers.</div> + +<p>A very popular game that attracted most of the +Blackfeet boys was the throwing of darts, or little +white hand-arrows, along the grass. The game +was to see who could throw his arrow farthest in +a straight line. At times the air was full of the +white missiles where the boys were playing, and +they fell like rain upon the grass.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>In another part of the field were some larger +boys with rude bows with which to shoot these +same darts. These boys were playing a favorite +Blackfeet game. Each one had a disk or solid +wheel of sheet-iron or lead, and the game was to +see who could roll his disk the farthest, while all +the others shot at it to tip it over and bring it to a +stop. The boys made splendid shots at the swift-moving +little wheels, and from greater distances +than you would imagine.</p> + +<p>They play with arrows so frequently that it is +no wonder they are good marksmen; yet you +would be surprised to see how frequently they +bring down the birds, rabbits, and gophers which +abound on the plains. The houses of these plump +little drab-colored creatures are holes in the turf, +and as you ride along the plains you will see them +everywhere around, sitting up on their haunches +with their tiny fore paws held idle and limp before +them, and their bead-like, bright eyes looking +at you most trustingly—until you come just so +near, when pop! suddenly down goes little Mr. +Gopher in his hole. You may be sure the Indian +boys find great sport in shooting at these comical +little creatures. But the boys take a mean advantage +of the fact that the restless gophers cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +stay still in one place any great length of time. +When one pops into a hole it is only for a minute, +and during that minute the Indian boy softly and +deftly arranges a snare around the hole, so that +when the gopher pops up again the snare can be +jerked and the animal captured.</p> + +<p>We gave the boys in the Blackfeet camp great +sport by standing at a distance of a hundred yards +from all of them and offering a silver quarter to +whichever boy got to us first. You should have +seen the stampede that followed the signal, "Go!" +Blankets were dropped, moccasins fell off, boys +stumbled and others fell atop of them, their black +locks flew in the breeze, and the air was noisy with +yelling and laughter.</p> + +<p>These boys spin tops, but their "top-time" is +the winter, when snow is on the ground and is +crusted hard. Their tops are made of lead or +some other metal, and are mere little circular +plates which they cover with red flannel and ornament +with tiny knots or wisps of cord all around +the edges. These are spun with whips and look +very pretty on the icy white playgrounds. Nearly +all Indian boys play ball, but not as we do, for +their only idea of the game is the girlish one of +pitching and catching. All their games are the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +simplest, and lack the rules which we lay down to +make our sports difficult and exciting.</p> + +<p>The boys of the Papago tribe in the Southwest +have a game which the fellows in Harvard and +Yale would form rules about, if they played it, +until it became very lively indeed. These Indian +boys make dumb-bells of woven buckskin or rawhide. +They weave them tight and stiff, and then +soak them in a sort of red mud which sticks like +paint. They dry them, and then the queer toys +are ready for use. To play the game they mark +off goals, one for each band or "side" of players. +The object of each side is to send its dumb-bells +over to the goal of the enemy. The dumb-bells +are tossed with sticks that are thrust under them +as they lie on the ground. The perverse things +will not go straight or far, and a rod is a pretty +good throw for one. The sport quickly grows exciting, +and the players are soon battling in a heap, +almost as if they were playing at foot-ball.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"> +<img src="images/illus101.jpg" width="428" height="600" alt=""YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE STAMPEDE THAT FOLLOWED THE SIGNAL, 'GO!'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE STAMPEDE THAT FOLLOWED THE SIGNAL, 'GO!'"</span> +</div> + +<p>These are games that will not wear out while +there are Indian boys to play them. On the oldest +reservations, where even the grandfathers of the +Indians now alive were shut up and fed by their +government, the boys still play the old games. +But wherever one travels to-day, even among the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +wildest tribes, a new era is seen to have begun as +the result of the Indian schools, and Indian boys +are being taught things more useful than any they +ever knew before. The brightest boys in the various +tribes are selected to be sent to these schools, +and it is hoped that what they learn will make all +the others anxious to imitate white men's ways.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus103.png" width="400" height="279" alt="COPY IN BLACK AND WHITE OF A COLOR-DRAWING BY AN INDIAN BOY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">COPY IN BLACK AND WHITE OF A COLOR-DRAWING BY AN INDIAN BOY</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CHILDREN OF ZUÑI</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor2'>BY MARIA BRACE KIMBALL</div> + +<div class='poem'> +"Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Little frosty Eskimo,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Little Turk or Japanee,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Oh, don't you wish that you were me?"</span><br /> +<br /><br /></div> + + +<div class='cap'>SO says the well-fed, well-dressed, well-housed +little Scotchman in Robert Louis Stevenson's +rhyme. But I don't believe that the small +Indians of Zuñi would care at all to change +places with the little "me" of Edinburgh or New +York. In their village of mud and stone, on the +sunny plains of New Mexico, they have lived for +centuries in perfect contentment. Fine houses, +green parks, and merry streets would be nothing +to them; hats and parasols, candies and ice-cream +would make them stare; and mere cleanliness +would only astonish them. Indeed, if they saw us +washing our faces and brushing our hair every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +day, they would probably one and all cry out in +Zuñi words:</div> + +<div class='center'><br /> +"Oh, don't you wish that you were <i>me?</i>"<br /> +</div> + +<p>The little half-civilized children of Zuñi so +aroused our curiosity that we drove through forty +miles of sand and sage-brush, from the railroad +at Fort Wingate, to pay them a visit. As the Indians +do not provide for travelers, we took our +hotel with us—tents, beds, and food—and camped +just outside their village. The village looks like +a huge beehive made of clay and stuck fast to the +top of a sandy knoll. The hive is filled with a +mass of cells—three hundred single rooms, placed +side by side and piled in rows one on top of another. +In each of these rooms lives a Zuñi family. +There are no inside stairways leading from story +to story, but if the boys and girls living in one +row wish to pay a visit to a house above them, +they must go outdoors and climb a ladder. On +the slope between the village and the Zuñi River +are a number of small vegetable-gardens, each +one inclosed by a mud wall. Zuñi has no inns, no +shops, no saloons, not even proper streets, but +only narrow alleys that thread their way through +the strange town. As we walked through the village,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +all the world came out to see us. Girls and +boys clustered on the roofs or sat on the ovens,—queer +little cones of mud which seem to grow up +out of the house-tops,—while fathers, mothers, +and babies peered out from dark doorways, to +stare at the visitors. When we had finished our +tour of the roofs and alleys, we were hospitably +invited indoors; even there the children followed +us, and as we glanced up to a hole in the ceiling +which served as a window, a girl's laughing face +filled the opening. We must have looked strange +enough in our hats and gloves and long skirts.</p> + +<p>The Zuñi child spends his early days in a cradle. +But a cradle in Zuñi-land does not mean down pillows, +silken coverlets, and fluffy laces; it is only +a flat board, just the length of the baby, with a +hood like a doll's buggy-top over the head. Upon +this hard bed the baby is bound like a mummy—the +coverings wound round and round him until +the little fellow cannot move except to open his +mouth and eyes. Sometimes he is unrolled, and +looks out into the bare whitewashed room, blinks +at the fire burning on the hearth, and fixes his +eyes earnestly on the wolf and cougar skins that +serve as chairs and beds and carpets in the Zuñi +home.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> +<img src="images/illus108.jpg" width="425" height="600" alt="A ZUÑI FAMILY ON THE MARCH" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A ZUÑI FAMILY ON THE MARCH</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>By the time he is two or three years old, he has +grown into a plump little bronze creature, with +the straightest of coarse black hair and the biggest +and roundest of black eyes. He is now out +of the cradle, and trots about the house and the +village. When the weather is bad he wears a +small coarse shirt, and always a necklace of beads +or turquoise.</p> + +<p>As he grows older, he adds a pair of loose cotton +trousers to his costume, and, if anything more +is needed to keep him warm, he girds on his +blanket, just as his forefathers have done in all +the three hundred years since white men first +knew the Zuñis. His long hair, either flying +loosely in the wind or tied back with a band of +some red stuff, serves him both as hair and as hat.</p> + +<p>His little sister, however, has a more elaborate +dress. Her mama weaves it for her, as she does +her own, in a rude loom. She makes two square +blankets of black cotton, finishes them neatly +across top and bottom, sews them together at the +sides with red yarn, and the dress is ready to try +on. It always fits perfectly, as the part which +forms the skirt is simply held in place by a sash, +and the waist is made by drawing two corners of +the blankets up over the left shoulder. The sash,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +woven in gay colors, is also the work of Mama +Zuñi. A long, narrow piece of cotton cloth is +draped from the other shoulder, and swings easily +about, serving as pocket, shawl, or pinafore. In +cold weather, moccasins, leggings, and blankets +are also worn. These articles, too, are made at +home. While the mother is the dressmaker and +tailor, the father is the family shoemaker. A few +of the Zuñi girls have dresses like those of American +girls. These clothes have come to them +through the mission-school which adjoins the village.</p> + +<p>The Zuñis have a language of their own—no +very easy one for boys and girls to learn, judging +from its many-syllabled, harsh-sounding words. +They also speak a little Spanish, as does nearly +everybody in New Mexico.</p> + +<p>The little Zuñis amuse themselves with running, +wrestling, jumping, and playing at grown +folks, just as civilized children do. They have +their bows and arrows, their rag-dolls,—strapped +like real babies to cradles,—and their shinny +sticks and balls. The children also make themselves +useful at home. The older girls take care +of their younger brothers and sisters, and the +boys tend the goats. There are large herds of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +goats belonging to the village, and they must be +taken every morning to graze on the plain, and +brought home at night to be shut up in the corrals, +or folds, safe from prowling wolves.</p> + +<p>The little children often go with their mothers +to draw water from the village well, about a hundred +yards from the houses. At the top of a +flight of stone steps they wait, playing about in +the sand, while their mothers go down to the +spring. There the women fill the jars, then, poising +them on their heads, climb the hill and mount +the ladders to their homes. As all the water used +by the village has to be brought to it in these <i>ollas</i> +(water-jars), carried on the women's heads, it is +not surprising that the boys' clothes are grimy +and the girls have apparently never known what +it is to wash their faces.</p> + +<p>The <i>ollas</i>, which answer the purpose of family +china and of kitchen-ware, are made by the Zuñi +women from the clay of the river-bank. The wet +earth is shaped by hand into jars of all sorts and +sizes; the jars are then painted with gay colors, +in queer patterns, and burned. It is a pretty +sight, of an evening, to see the fires of the kilns +dotted all over the terraces of the village. Each +piece of pottery is shut up inside a little wall of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +chips, which are set on fire; when the chips are +burned up, the article is baked and ready for use. +The Zuñi mamas make not only the jars for family +use, but also clay toys for the children, curious +rattles, dolls' moccasins, owls, eagles, horses, and +other childish treasures.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus113.jpg" width="600" height="437" alt="ON THE WAY TO FORT WINGATE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ON THE WAY TO FORT WINGATE</span> +</div> + +<p>The Zuñi has learned that American coffee and +tobacco are better than Indian herb tea and willow +bark. As he must have ready money in order +to buy such articles, he has contrived various +ways of earning a few <i>reales</i> (Spanish for shillings). +When spring comes and the snows have +melted, he collects the jars and bowls and trinkets +that have been made during the winter, ties them +up in the several corners of his blanket, and +trudges off to market at Fort Wingate, forty +miles away. Bows and arrows, and canes made +from a singular cactus which grows near Zuñi, +are also added to the stock in trade. If the Indian +is lucky enough to own a burro, he and one of the +boys mount the patient creature, while the family, +big and little, with some of the neighbors, complete +the party. Once in the garrison, the Zuñi +family need only walk up and down to advertise +their wares; the boys and girls help to carry the +jars, while the babies follow. The group, with its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +bright blankets and gay pottery, soon attracts attention +and sales begin on the sidewalks and verandas. +Little is said by the Zuñi merchants, but +when the bargaining is finished, they stand silent, +waiting with a hungry look for the usual invitation +to the kitchen. There, seated in a circle on +the floor, they gratefully eat and drink whatever +is set before them. Their store of words does not +include "Thank you," but their faces brighten, +and the older people politely shake hands with a +"Bueno, bueno, señora" ("Good, good, madame"), +while the babies munch and crumble +their cake and cry for more, just as our own white +babies do. The thoughtful mamas do not forget +the miles of "home stretch" before the family, +and wisely tuck away in their blankets the last +bits of cheese and crackers.</p> + +<p>When they have looked over the fort, tasted its +bread and coffee, and sold their cargo, they cheerfully +go home to their mud village and Indian +habits. Old and young, they all are children, easily +pleased, contented with things as they are, and +quite certain in their own minds that the Zuñi way +is the right way to live.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE INDIAN GIRL AND HER MESSENGER-BIRD</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY GEORGE W. RANCK</div> + + +<div class='cap'>ONCE upon a time, there was an Indian who +lived in a big wood on the banks of a beautiful +river, and he did nothing all day long but +catch fish and hunt wild deer. Well, this Indian +had two lovely little daughters, and he named one +Sunbeam, because she was so bright and cheerful, +and the other he called Starlight, because, he said, +her sweet eyes twinkled like the stars.</div> + +<p>Sunbeam and Starlight were as gay as butterflies, +and as busy as bees, from morning till night. +They ran races under the shady trees, made bouquets +of wild flowers, swung on grape-vine +swings, turned berries and acorns into beads, and +dressed their glossy black hair with bright feathers +that beautiful birds had dropped. They +loved each other so much, and were so happy together, +that they never knew what trouble meant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +until, one day, Starlight got very sick, and before +the big moon came over the tree-tops the sweet +Indian child had closed her starry eyes in death, +and rested for the last time upon her soft, little +deerskin bed. And now, for the first time, Sunbeam's +heart was full of grief. She could not +play, for Starlight was gone, she knew not where; +so she took the bright feathers out of her hair, and +sat down by the river and cried and cried for +Starlight to come back to her. But when her father +told her that Starlight was gone to the Spirit-land +of love and beauty, and would be happy for +ever and ever, Sunbeam was comforted.</p> + +<p>"Now," said she, "I know where darling Starlight +is, and I can kiss her and talk to her again."</p> + +<p>Sunbeam had heard her people say that the +birds were messengers from the Spirit-land. So +she hunted through the woods until she found a +little song-bird, that was too young to fly, fast +asleep in its nest. She carried it gently home, put +it into a cage, and watched over it and fed it tenderly +day after day until its wings grew strong +and it filled the woods with its music. Then she +carried it in her soft little hands to Starlight's +grave; and after she had loaded it with kisses and +messages of love for Starlight, she told it never to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +cease its sweetest song or fold its shining wings +until it had flown to the Spirit-land. She let it go, +and the glad bird, as it rose above the tall green +trees, poured forth a song more joyful than any +that Sunbeam had ever heard. Higher and +higher it flew, and sweeter and sweeter grew its +song, until at last both its form and its music were +lost in the floating summer clouds.</p> + +<p>Then Sunbeam ran swiftly over the soft grass +to her father, and told him, with a bright smile +and a light heart, that she had talked with dear +Starlight, and had kissed her sweet rosy mouth +again; and Sunbeam was once more her father's +bright and happy little Indian girl.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW THE STONE-AGE CHILDREN PLAYED</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY CHARLES C. ABBOTT</div> + + +<div class='cap'>NOT long since I wandered along a pretty +brook that rippled through a narrow valley. +I was on the lookout for whatever birds might be +wandering that way, but saw nothing of special +interest. So, to while away the time, I commenced +geologizing; and, as I plodded along my +lonely way, I saw everywhere traces of an older +time, when the sparkling rivulet that now only +harbors pretty salamanders was a deep creek, tenanted +by many of our larger fishes.</div> + +<p>How fast the earth from the valley's slopes may +have been loosened by frost and washed by +freshet, and carried down to fill up the old bed of +the stream, we will not stop to inquire; for other +traces of this older time were also met with here. +As I turned over the loose earth by the brook-side, +and gathered here and there a pretty pebble, I +chanced upon a little arrow-point.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>Whoever has made a collection, be it of postage +stamps or birds' eggs, knows full well how securing +one coveted specimen but increases eagerness +for others; and so was it with me that pleasant +afternoon. Just one pretty arrow-point cured me +of my laziness, banished every trace of fatigue, +and filled me with the interest of eager search; +and I dug and sifted and washed the sandy soil for +yards along the brook-side, until I had gathered +at least a score of curious relics of the long-departed +red men, or rather of the games and sports +and pastimes of the red men's hardy and active +children.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/illus120.png" width="300" height="146" alt="THE HATCHET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE HATCHET</span> +</div> + +<p>For centuries before Columbus discovered San +Salvador, the red men (or Indians, as they are +usually called) roamed over all the great continent +of North America, and having no knowledge +of iron as a metal, they were forced to make of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +stone or bone all their weapons, hunting and +household implements. From this fact they are +called, when referring to those early times, a +stone-age people, and so, of course, the boys and +girls of that time were stone-age children.</p> + +<p>But it is not to be supposed that, because the +children of savages, they were altogether unlike +the youngsters of to-day. In one respect, at least, +they were quite the same—they were very fond of +play.</p> + +<p>Their play, however, was not like the games of +to-day, as you may see by the pictures of their +toys. We might, perhaps, call the principal game +of the boys "Playing Man," for the little stone +implements, here pictured, are only miniatures of +the great stone axes and long spear-points of their +fathers.</p> + +<p>In one particular these old-time children were +really in advance of the youngsters of to-day; they +not only did, in play, what their parents did in earnest, +but they realized, in part, the results of their +playful labor. A good old Moravian missionary +says: "Little boys are frequently seen wading in +shallow brooks, shooting small fishes with their +bows and arrows." Going a-fishing, then, as now, +was good fun; but to shoot fishes with a bow and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +arrow is not an easy thing to do, and this is one +way these stone-age children played, and played +to better advantage than most of my young readers +can.</p> + +<p>Among the stone-age children's toys that I +gathered that afternoon, were those of which we +have pictures. The first is a very pretty stone +hatchet, very carefully shaped, and still quite +sharp. It has been worked out from a porphyry +pebble, and in every way, except size, it is the +same as hundreds that still are to be found lying +about the fields.</p> + +<p>No red man would ever deign to use such an +insignificant-looking ax, and so we must suppose +it to have been a toy hatchet for some little fellow +that chopped away at saplings, or, perhaps, +knocked over some poor squirrel or rabbit; for +our good old Moravian friend, the missionary, +also tells us that "the boys learn to climb trees +when very young, both to catch birds and to exercise +their sight, which, by this method, is rendered +so quick that in hunting they see objects at an +amazing distance." Their play, then, became an +excellent schooling for them; and if they did nothing +but play it was not a loss of time.</p> + +<p>The five little arrow-points figured in the second<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +picture are among those I found in the valley. +The ax was not far away, and both it and they +may have belonged to the same bold and active +young hunter. All of these arrow-points are very +neatly made.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/illus123.png" width="300" height="278" alt="ARROW-HEADS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ARROW-HEADS</span> +</div> + +<p>The same missionary tells us that these young +red men of the forest "exercise themselves very +early with bows and arrows, and in shooting at a +mark. As they grow up, they acquire a remarkable +dexterity in shooting birds, squirrels, and +small game."</p> + +<p>Every boy remembers his first penknife, and, +whether it had one or three blades, was proud +enough of it; but how different the fortune of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +stone-age children, in this matter of a pocket-knife! +In the third picture is shown a piece of +flint that was doubtless chipped into this shape +that it might be used as a knife.</p> + +<p>I have found scores of such knives in the fields +that extend along the little valley, and a few came +to light in my search that afternoon in the brook-side +sands and gravel. So, if this chipped flint is +a knife, then, as in modern times, the children +were whittlers.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;"> +<img src="images/illus124.png" width="320" height="97" alt="FLINT KNIFE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FLINT KNIFE</span> +</div> + +<p>Of course, our boys nowadays would be puzzled +to cut a willow whistle or mend the baby's go-cart +with such a knife as this; but still, it will not do to +despise stone cutlery. The big canoe at the Centennial, +that took up so much room in the Government +Building,—a boat sixty feet long,—was +made in quite recent times, and only stone knives +and hatchets were used in the process.</p> + +<p>I found too, in that afternoon walk, some curiously +shaped splinters of jasper, which at first did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +not seem very well adapted to any purpose; and +yet, although mere fragments, they had every appearance +of having been purposely shaped, and +not of accidental resemblances to a hook or sickle +blade. When I got home, I read that perfect +specimens, mine being certainly pieces of the same +form, had been found away off in Norway; and +Professor Nilsson, who has carefully studied the +whole subject, says they are fish-hooks.</p> + +<p>Instead of my broken ones, we have in the +fourth illustration some uninjured specimens of +these fish-hooks from Norway. Two are made of +flint, the largest one being bone; and hooks of exactly +the same patterns really have been found +within half a mile of the little valley I worked in +that afternoon.</p> + +<p>The fish-hooks shown in our picture have been +thought to be best adapted for, and really used in, +capturing cod-fish in salt water, and perch and +pike in inland lakes. The broken hooks I found +were fully as large; and so the little brook that +now ripples down the valley, when a large stream, +must have had a good many big fishes in it, or the +stone-age fishermen would not have brought their +fishing-hooks, and have lost them, along this remnant +of a larger stream.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>But it must not be supposed that only children +in this bygone era did the fishing for their tribe. +Just as the men captured the larger game, so they +took the bigger fishes; but it is scarcely probable +that the boys who waded the little brooks with +bows and arrows would remain content with that, +and, long before they were men, doubtless they +were adepts in catching the more valuable fishes +that abounded, in Indian times, in all our rivers.</p> + +<p>So, fishing, I think, was another way in which +the stone-age children played.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 273px;"> +<img src="images/illus126.png" width="273" height="300" alt="FISH-HOOKS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">FISH-HOOKS</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2>GAMES AND SPORTS OF THE INDIAN BOY</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY DR. CHARLES ALEXANDER EASTMAN</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>[These are actual recollections of the wild life. The Indian boy +whose experiences are described wrote them out himself many +years afterward when, having graduated at Dartmouth College +and the Boston University School of Medicine, he had become +an educated man, and a physician among his own people.]</p></div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE Indian boy was a prince of the wilderness. +He had but very little work to do +during the period of his boyhood. His principal +occupation was the practising of a few simple but +rigid rules in the arts of warfare and the chase. +Aside from this, he was master of his time.</div> + +<p>Whatever was required of us boys was quickly +performed; then the field was clear for our games +and plays. There was always keen competition +between us. We felt very much as our fathers did +in hunting and war—each one strove to excel all +the others. It is true that our savage life was a +precarious one, and full of dreadful catastrophes; +however, this never prevented us from enjoying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +our sports to the fullest extent. As we left our +tepees in the morning, we were never sure that +our scalps would not dangle from a pole in the +afternoon! It was an uncertain life, to be sure. +Yet we observed that the fawns skipped and +played happily while the gray wolves might be +peeping forth from behind the hills, ready to tear +them limb from limb.</p> + +<p>Our sports were molded by the life and customs +of our people—indeed, we practised only +what we expected to do when grown. Our games +were feats with the bow and arrow, foot and pony +races, wrestling, swimming, and imitations of the +customs and habits of our fathers. We had sham +fights with mud balls and willow wands, we +played lacrosse, made war upon bees, shot winter +arrows (which were used only in that season), +and coasted upon ribs of animals and buffalo-robes.</p> + +<p>Our games with bow and arrow were usually +combined with hunting; but as I shall take hunting +for the subject of another letter, I will speak +only of such as were purely plays.</p> + +<p>No sooner did the boys get together than they +divided into squads, and chose sides; then a leading +arrow was shot at random into the air. Before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +it fell to the ground, a volley from the bows +of the participants followed. Each player was +quick to see the direction and speed of the leading +arrow, and he tried to send his own with the same +speed and at an equal height, so that when it fell +it would be closer than any of the others to the +first.</p> + +<p>It was considered out of place to shoot an arrow +by first sighting the object aimed at. This was +usually impracticable, because the object was almost +always in motion, while the hunter himself +was often on the back of a pony in full gallop. +Therefore, it was the offhand shot that the Indian +boy sought to master. There was another game +with arrows which was characterized by gambling, +and was generally confined to the men.</p> + +<p>The races were an every-day occurrence. At +noon the boys were usually gathered by some +pleasant sheet of water, and as soon as the ponies +were watered, they were allowed to graze for an +hour or two, while the boys stripped for their +noonday sports. A boy might say, "I can't run, +but I challenge you for fifty paces," to some other +whom he considered his equal. A former hero, +when beaten, would often explain his defeat by +saying, "I had drunk too much water!" Boys of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +all ages were paired for a "spin," and the little +red men cheered on their favorites with spirit! +As soon as this was ended, the pony races followed. +All the speedy ponies were picked out, and +riders chosen. If a boy said, "I cannot ride," +what a shout went up! Such derision!</p> + +<p>Last of all came the swimming. A little urchin +would hang to his pony's long tail, while the latter +held only his head above water and glided sportively +along. Finally the animals were driven +into a fine field of grass, and we turned our attention +to other games.</p> + +<p>Lacrosse was an older game, and was confined +entirely to the Sisseton and Santee Sioux. +Shinny, such as is enjoyed by white boys on ice, +is now played by the western Sioux. The "moccasin-game," +although sometimes played by the +boys, was intended mainly for adults.</p> + +<p>The "mud-and-willow" fight was rather a +severe and dangerous sport. A lump of soft clay +was stuck on one end of a limber and springy willow +wand, to be thrown with considerable force—as +boys throw apples from sticks. When there +were fifty or a hundred on each side, the battle +became warm; but anything to arouse the bravery +of Indian boys seemed to them a good and wholesome +sport.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wrestling was largely indulged in by all of us. +It may seem odd, but the wrestling was by a great +number of boys at once—from ten to any number +on a side. It was really a battle, but each one +chose his own opponent. The rule was that if a +boy sat down, he was let alone; but as long as he +remained standing within the field he was open +to an attack. No one struck with the hand, but +all manner of tripping with legs and feet and +hurting with the knees was allowed; altogether it +was an exhausting pastime—fully equal to the +American game of foot-ball. Only the boy who +was an athlete could really enjoy it.</p> + +<p>One of our most curious sports was a war upon +the nests of wild bees. We imagined ourselves +about to make an attack upon the Chippewas or +some other tribal foe. We all painted and stole +cautiously upon the nest; then, with a rush and a +war-whoop, sprang upon the object of our attack +and endeavored to destroy it. But it seemed that +the bees were always on the alert, and never entirely +surprised; for they always raised quite as +many scalps as did their bold assailants! After +the onslaught upon the bees was ended, we usually +followed it by a pretended scalp-dance.</p> + +<p>On the occasion of my first experience in this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +mode of warfare, there were two other little boys +who also were novices. One of them, particularly, +was too young to indulge in such an exploit. As +it was the custom of the Indians, when they killed +or wounded an enemy on the battle-field, to announce +the act in a loud voice, we did the same. +My friend Little Wound (as I will call him, for I +do not remember his name), being quite small, +was unable to reach the nest until it had been well +trampled upon and broken, and the insects had +made a counter charge with such vigor as to repulse +and scatter our numbers in every direction. +However, he evidently did not want to retreat +without any honors; so he bravely jumped upon +the nest and yelled:</p> + +<p>"I, brave Little Wound, to-day kill the only +fierce enemy!"</p> + +<p>Scarcely was the last word uttered when he +screamed as if stabbed to the heart. One of his +older companions shouted:</p> + +<p>"Dive into the water! Run! Dive into the +water!" for there was a lake near by. This advice +he obeyed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/ill-p129.jpg" width="600" height="442" alt="INDIAN BOYS PLAYING "FOLLOW MY LEADER"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">INDIAN BOYS PLAYING "FOLLOW MY LEADER"</span> +</div> + +<p>When we had reassembled and were indulging +in our mimic dance, Little Wound was not allowed +to dance. He was considered not to be in existence—he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +had been "killed" by our enemies, the +Bee tribe. Poor little fellow! His tear-stained +face was sad and ashamed, as he sat on a fallen log +and watched the dance. Although he might well +have styled himself one of the noble dead who had +died for their country, yet he was not unmindful +that he had <i>screamed</i>, and that this weakness +would be apt to recur to him many times in the +future.</p> + +<p>We had some quiet plays which we alternated +with the more severe and warlike ones. Among +them were throwing wands and snow-arrows. +In the winter we coasted much. We had no +"double-rippers" nor toboggans, but six or seven +of the long ribs of a buffalo, fastened together at +the larger end, answered all practical purposes. +Sometimes a strip of bass-wood bark, four feet +long and half a foot wide, was used with much +skill. We stood on one end and held the other, +using the inside of the bark for the outside, and +thus coasted down long hills with remarkable +speed.</p> + +<p>Sometimes we played "Medicine Dance." This +to us was almost what "playing church" is among +white children. Our people seem to think it an act +of irreverence to imitate these dances, but we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +children thought otherwise; therefore we quite +frequently enjoyed in secret one of these performances. +We used to observe all the important +ceremonies and customs attending it, and it required +something of an actor to reproduce the +dramatic features of the dance. The real dances +usually occupied a day and a night, and the program +was long and varied, so that it was not easy +to execute all the details perfectly; but the Indian +children are born imitators.</p> + +<p>I was often selected as choirmaster on these occasions, +for I had happened to learn many of the +medicine songs, and was quite an apt mimic. My +grandmother, who was a noted medicine woman, +on hearing of these sacrilegious acts (as she called +them), warned me that if any of the medicine men +should learn of my conduct, they would punish +me terribly by shriveling my limbs with slow +disease.</p> + +<p>Occasionally we also played "white man." Our +knowledge of the pale-face was limited, but we +had learned that he brought goods whenever he +came, and that our people exchanged furs for his +merchandise. We also knew, somehow, that his +complexion was white, that he wore short hair +on his head and long hair on his face, and that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +he had coat, trousers, and hat, and did not patronize +blankets in the daytime. This was the +picture we had formed of the white man. So we +painted two or three of our number with white +clay, and put on them birchen hats, which we +sewed up for the occasion, fastened a piece of fur +to their chins for a beard, and altered their costume +as much as lay within our power. The +white of the birch-bark was made to answer for +their white shirts. Their merchandise consisted +of sand for sugar, wild beans for coffee, dried +leaves for tea, pulverized earth for gunpowder, +pebbles for bullets, and clear water for dangerous +"fire-water." We traded for these goods with +skins of squirrels, rabbits, and small birds.</p> + +<p>When we played "hunting buffalo" we would +send a few good runners off on the open prairie +with meat and other edibles; then start a few of +our swiftest runners to chase them and capture +the food. Once we were engaged in this sport when +a real hunt by the men was going on near by; +yet we did not realize that it was so close until, +in the midst of our play, an immense buffalo appeared, +coming at full speed directly toward us. +Our mimic buffalo hunt turned into a very real +"buffalo scare"! As it was near the edge of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +forest, we soon disappeared among the leaves like +a covey of young prairie-chickens, and some hid in +the bushes while others took refuge in tall trees.</p> + +<p>In the water we always had fun. When we had +no ponies, we often had swimming-matches of +our own, and we sometimes made rafts with +which we crossed lakes and rivers. It was a common +thing to "duck" a young or timid boy, or to +carry him into deep water to struggle as best he +might.</p> + +<p>I remember a perilous ride with a companion +on an unmanageable log, when we both were less +than seven years old. The older boys had put +us on this uncertain bark and pushed us out into +the swift current of the river. I cannot speak +for my comrade in distress, but I can say now +that I would rather ride on a wild bronco any day +than try to stay on and steady a short log in a +river. I never knew how we managed to prevent +a shipwreck on that voyage, and to reach the +shore!</p> + +<p>We had many curious wild pets. There were +young foxes, bears, wolves, fawns, raccoons, buffalo +calves, and birds of all kinds, tamed by various +boys. My pets were different at different +times, but I particularly remember one. I once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +had a grizzly cub for a pet, and so far as he and +I were concerned our relations were charming +and very close. But I hardly know whether he +made more enemies for me or I for him. It was +his custom to treat unmercifully every boy who +injured me. He was despised for his conduct in +my interest, and I was hated on account of his +interference.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illus137.png" width="450" height="291" alt="COPY IN BLACK AND WHITE OF A COLOR-DRAWING BY AN INDIAN BOY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">COPY IN BLACK AND WHITE OF A COLOR-DRAWING BY AN INDIAN BOY</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> +<h2>AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY M. ELOISE TALBOT</div> + + +<div class='cap'>LITTLE PRUDENCE stood by the window, +with her face pressed hard against it. She +was not looking out; she could not do that, for the +window-frame, instead of being filled with clear +panes of glass, had oiled paper stretched tightly +across it.</div> + +<p>It was a very curious window, indeed, and it +transmitted a dull light into a very curious room. +The floor was of uncovered boards; the walls +were built of logs of wood with the bark still +clinging to them in places, and overhead were +great rafters from which hung suspended many +things—swords and corselets, coats, bundles of +dried herbs, pots and pans.</p> + +<p>The furniture was very simple. In the center +of the room was a wooden table, scoured to whiteness, +stiff-backed chairs were ranged against the +wall, and a dresser, where pewter cups and platters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +stood in shining rows, adorned the farther +corner. In a wide chimney-place a royal fire was +blazing, and before it stood Prudence's mother, +carefully stirring some mixture in an iron pot +which hung upon a crane. Within the circle of +the firelight, which played upon her yellow hair +and turned it to ruddy gold, Mehitable, Prudence's +sister, stepped rapidly to and fro, her spinning-wheel +making a humming accompaniment to +the crackling of the blaze.</p> + +<p>Prudence turned to watch her, pushing farther +back a little white cap which pressed upon her +short curls; for she was a little Puritan maiden, +living in the town of Plymouth, and it was not the +present year of our Lord, but about two hundred +and eighty-four years ago. She was a very different +Prudence from what she would have been +if she had been living now, and it was a very different +Plymouth from the pleasant town we know +to-day, with its many houses climbing up the hill, +and the busy people in its streets. There were +only seven houses then, and they stood in one line +leading to the water, and there was but one building +besides—a square wooden affair with palisades, +which served as a church on Sundays, a +fort when enemies were feared, and a storehouse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +all the time. Beyond these nothing could be seen +but woods—trackless, unknown forests—and, +away to the east, the ocean, where the waves were +booming with a lonesome sound.</p> + +<p>It was not quite a year before that Prudence's +father had stood with the other brave colonists +on the deck of the <i>Mayflower</i>, and had looked with +eager eyes upon the shore of the New World. This +first year in Massachusetts had on the whole been +a happy one for Prudence. During the cold winter +which followed their landing, she had indeed +cast longing thoughts toward the home in Holland +which they had left; and especially did she +long for the Dutch home when she was hungry, +and the provisions which had been brought on +the ship were scanty; but she had forgotten all +such longings in the bounty given by the summer, +and now it seemed to her there was no more beautiful +place in the world than this New England.</p> + +<p>It was Prudence's father who opened the door +and came in, carrying on his shoulder an ax with +which he had been felling trees for the winter's +fuel. Prudence never could get over the queer +feeling it gave her to see her father thus employed. +When they lived in Holland, he was always +writing and studying in books of many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +languages, but here he did little else than work in +the fields, for it was only so that the early settlers +obtained their daily bread. He leaned his ax in a +corner, and came toward the fire, rubbing his +hands to get out the cold.</p> + +<p>"I have news for you, dear heart, to-night," he +said to his wife. "I have just come from the +granary, and indeed there is goodly store laid up +of corn and rye, and game that has been shot in +the forest. The children's mouths will not hunger +this winter."</p> + +<p>"Praised be the Lord!" replied his wife, fervently. +"But what is your news?"</p> + +<p>"The governor hath decided to hold a thanksgiving +for the bountiful harvest, and on the appointed +day is a great feast to be spread; and he +hath sent a messenger to bid Massasoit to break +bread with us."</p> + +<p>"Massasoit the Indian?"</p> + +<p>"Ay; but a friendly Indian. He will come, and +many of his braves with him. You will be kept +busy, my heart, with the other housewives to bake +sufficient food for this company."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, <i>may</i> I go?" cried Prudence, +her eyes dancing with excitement, clutching at +her mother's skirts; but her father continued:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How now, Mehitable? The news of a coming +feast does not seem to make you merry as it was +wont to do in Holland."</p> + +<p>Mehitable was grave, and there was even a tear +in her eye.</p> + +<p>"I know," cried Joel, who was two years older +than Prudence; "she is thinking of John Andrews, +who is across the sea."</p> + +<p>But the father frowned, and the mother said, +"Peace, foolish children!" as she placed the porridge +on the table.</p> + +<p>So Prudence and Joel drew up their benches, +and said no more. Chairs and conversation did +not belong to children in those days; they sat on +little stools and kept silence. That did not keep +them from thinking. A thanksgiving feast! +What could it be? The only thanksgiving they +knew about meant such long prayers in church +that the little people grew very tired before the +end—but a feast!—that would be something new +and interesting.</p> + +<p>The feast was to be held on the following +Thursday; so, during all the days between, the +house was full of the stir of brewing and baking. +Prudence polished the apples, and Joel pounded +the corn, in eager anticipation; but when the day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +arrived a disappointment awaited them, for their +father decreed that they should remain at home.</p> + +<p>"You are over-young, my little Prudence, and +Joel is over-bold; besides which, he must stay and +care for you."</p> + +<p>"And do neither of you leave the house while +your father and I are away," added the mother. +"I shall not have a moment's peace of mind, if I +think you are wandering outside alone."</p> + +<p>"I will bring you back a Dutch cake, my little +sister," whispered Mehitable, who looked sweeter +than ever in her best attire of black silk and a lace +kerchief, which with an unwilling heart she had +put on in obedience to her mother's command.</p> + +<p>But when the elders were gone the disappointment +and loneliness were too much for the children. +Prudence, being a girl, sat down in a +corner and cried; while Joel, being a boy, got angry, +and strode up and down the room with his +hands in his pockets.</p> + +<p>"It is too bad!" he burst out suddenly. "The +greedy, grown-up people, I believe they want all +the food themselves! It's a downright shame to +keep us at home!"</p> + +<p>"Joel!" gasped Prudence, horrified—"father +and mother!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I know," admitted Joel, more mildly; +"but they need not have shut us up in the house +as if we were babies. Prudence, let's go out in +the yard and play, if we can't do anything else."</p> + +<p>"But mother forbade us," said Prudence.</p> + +<p>"I know. But then, of course, she only meant +we must not go into the woods for fear of wild +beasts. There is no danger here by the doorsteps, +and father won't care; <i>he's</i> not afraid!"</p> + +<p>"I—don't—know," faltered Prudence.</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I'm</i> going, anyway," said Joel, resolutely, +taking his hat from the peg. "Ah, do +come too, Prudence!" he added persuasively.</p> + +<p>So Prudence, though she knew in her heart it +was a naughty thing to do, took off her cap, and +tying her little Puritan bonnet under her chin, followed +Joel through the door.</p> + +<p>Once outside, I am afraid their scruples were +soon forgotten. All the sunshine of the summer +and the sparkling air of the winter were fused together +to make a wonderful November day. The +children felt like colts just loosed, and ran and +shouted together till, if there had not been a good +deal of noise also at the stone house where the +feast was being spread, their shrill little voices +must surely have been heard there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>All at once Joel caught Prudence by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" he exclaimed. "Look!"</p> + +<p>A beautiful gray squirrel ran across the grass +in front of them. It stopped, poising its little head +and intently listening.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to catch him," whispered Joel, excitedly. +"Father said if I could catch one, he +would make me a cage for it. Come along."</p> + +<p>He tiptoed softly forward, but the squirrel +heard and was up and away in an instant. Joel +pursued, and Prudence ran after him. Such a +chase as the little creature gave them—up on the +fence, under the stones, across the fields, and +finally straight to the woods, with the children +panting and stumbling after, still keeping him in +sight. Breath and patience gave out at last; but +when they stopped, where were they? In the very +heart of the forest, where the dead leaves rustled, +and the sunlight slanted down upon them, and the +squirrel, safe in the top of a tree, chattered angrily.</p> + +<p>"Never saw—anything run—so fast," panted +Joel in disgust. "I—give—him up. We had better +go back, Prudence. Why—but—I don't think +I know the way!"</p> + +<p>Prudence's lip quivered, and her eyes filled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's just like a girl!" said Joel, harshly, +"to go and cry the first thing."</p> + +<p>"I don't care," cried Prudence, indignation +burning away her tears; "you brought me into +this, anyhow, Joel, and now you ought to get me +out."</p> + +<p>This was so obviously true that Joel had no +retort at hand. Besides, he did not like to see +Prudence unhappy. So, after a moment, he put +his arm around her.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Prue," he said; "I think if we +try together, we can find the way home."</p> + +<p>But though they walked until their feet were +weary, they could find no familiar spot.</p> + +<p>When they came out of the woods at last, it was +only to find themselves unexpectedly on the sandy +beach of the ocean. They sat down on two stones, +and looked at each other in silence. Joel began +to feel even his bravery giving way. All at once +they heard a sound of soft feet, and a low, sweet +voice said:</p> + +<p>"How do, English!"</p> + +<p>A little Indian boy stood before them. He wore +a garment of skins, and a tiny bow and quiver +hung upon his back. His feet were bare, and he +walked so lightly that the children could hardly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +hear his tread. Prudence, in fright, shrank close +to her brother; but Joel had seen many Indians +during their year in the New World, and the +stranger's eyes were so bright and soft that the +white boy returned the Indian's salutation. Then, +plunging his hand into his pocket, Joel brought +forth a handful of nut-meats, and held them out +for an offering.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illus147.png" width="450" height="346" alt=""'HOW DO, ENGLISH!'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'HOW DO, ENGLISH!'"</span> +</div> + +<p>The little Indian smiled delightedly, and politely +took a few—not all. Having munched the +kernels gravely, the new-comer began to dance.</p> + +<p>It was a most remarkable dance. It was first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +a stately measure, accompanied by many poisings +on his toes, and liftings of his head, from which +the wind blew back his straight black hair; but +gradually his motions grew faster and more furious, +his slow steps changed to running, he +turned, he twisted his lithe body into all possible +contorted shapes, he threw his arms high above +his head, waving them wildly, he took great leaps +into the air, and finally, when his dance had lasted +about fifteen minutes, several amazing somersaults +brought him breathless, but still smiling, to +the children's feet.</p> + +<p>His spectators had been shouting with delight +during the whole performance, and now asked +him eager questions. What was his name? How +did he learn to dance? Could he not speak any +more English? But to all their inquiries he only +shook his head, and at last sat down beside them, +motionless now as any little bronze statue, and +looked steadily out to sea.</p> + +<p>Prudence's head drooped upon her brother's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I'm rather tired, Joel," she said wistfully; +"don't you think we could get to Plymouth pretty +soon?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Joel, despondently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the words the Indian boy sprang to his feet. +He ran toward the woods, then stopped, and beckoned +them to follow.</p> + +<p>"He is going in the wrong direction, I am +sure," said Joel, shaking his head.</p> + +<p>The boy stamped on the ground with impatience, +and, running back, seized Prudence's hand, +and gently pulled her forward.</p> + +<p>"Plymout'!" he said, in his strange accent.</p> + +<p>The children looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"We might as well try him," said Joel.</p> + +<p>The boy clapped his hands together, and ran on +before them into the forest. It was a weary journey, +over bogs and fallen trees, and seemed three +times as long as when they had come. A wasp +once stung Prudence on the cheek, making her cry +out with pain; but quick as thought the little Indian +caught up a pellet of clay, and plastered it +upon the wound, and, marvelous to relate, before +many minutes the sharp pain had quite gone away.</p> + +<p>The woods seemed gradually to grow a little +more open, and pretty soon they heard the distant +tinkle of a cow-bell. At last (Prudence held +her breath for fear it might not be true) they +emerged suddenly into the clearing, and home lay +before them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>They found they had made a complete circle +since they started.</p> + +<p>Their little guide stooped and picked up a +gaudy-colored feather from the ground. He examined +it closely, and then he shouted aloud, and +began to run toward the storehouse as fast as his +sturdy legs could carry him.</p> + +<p>"I want to see mother," said Prudence, half +crying with fatigue; so they ran all together +across the clearing.</p> + +<p>All this while the feast had been progressing. +About noontime the great Massasoit, chief of the +Indian tribe called the Wampanoags, had emerged +from the forest with all his tallest braves in single +file behind him. They wore their best beaver-skins, +and their heads were gay with nodding +feathers. They were received at the door of the +storehouse by their English entertainers, who also +wore the bravest attire that Puritan custom allowed. +They gave the braves a hearty welcome.</p> + +<p>Within, the long table fairly groaned with +abundance of good cheer; for the housewives had +vied with one another to provide the fattest game +and the daintiest dishes that Dutch or English +housewifery had taught them.</p> + +<p>After asking a blessing, they all sat down, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +stalwart colonists and their fair-haired women +side by side with the taciturn Indians. The white +men felt that the best way to thank God for the +harvest was to share it with their dark-skinned +brethren, who had first taught them to plant +and raise the maize which now furnished the +table.</p> + +<p>Governor Bradford sat at the head of the table. +He hoped much from this feast; first, that it +might cement the friendship between the colonists +and their Indian neighbors, the Wampanoags; +and, second, that the news of it might induce the +neighboring tribes, which were still partly hostile, +to live in peace with the settlers. But though +food and talk passed blithely round among the +other guests, the governor saw, with growing dismay, +that the great Massasoit sat frowning and +depressed. The governor was not long in learning +the cause. The interpreter, observing the +governor's uneasiness, whispered in his ear that +in a recent war with the Narragansetts, Massasoit's +only child, a boy, was missed and was +thought to have been taken prisoner, and of +course put to death, after the cruel savage custom.</p> + +<p>Toward the end of the feast, drink was served +to every guest. For the first time Massasoit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +showed animation. He seized his cup, and lifted +it in the air, and cried aloud in his native tongue, +as he sprang to his feet:</p> + +<div class='center'> +"May plague and famine seize the Narragansetts!"<br /> +</div> + +<p>At that very moment the house-door opened, +and a pretty group appeared upon the threshold. +Two English children stood there, as fair and +rosy as the May-time, and between them a dark, +lithe little Indian with sparkling eyes.</p> + +<p>Prudence ran straight to her mother.</p> + +<p>Massasoit paused and trembled; then, as his +cup fell and shivered upon the ground, he crossed +the room in one stride, and caught the Indian boy +in his arms, looking at him as if he could never see +enough.</p> + +<p>Governor Bradford knew in an instant that the +lost child had been restored, even without the Indian +warrior's shout of triumph, and Massasoit's +passionate exclamation: "Light of my eyes—staff +of my footsteps!—thou art come back to me—the +warmth of my heart, the sunlight of my +wigwam!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 475px;"> +<img src="images/illus153.jpg" width="475" height="404" alt=""'THOU ART COME BACK TO ME—THE WARMTH OF MY HEART, THE SUNLIGHT OF MY WIGWAM!' EXCLAIMED MASSASOIT"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'THOU ART COME BACK TO ME—THE WARMTH OF MY HEART, THE SUNLIGHT OF MY WIGWAM!' EXCLAIMED MASSASOIT"</span> +</div> + +<p>The rejoicing was so great that no one thought +of chiding Joel and Prudence for their disobedience.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +The governor himself gave Joel a large +slice of pudding, and Prudence told all her adventures, +throned upon her father's knee, wearing +around her neck a string of wampum which the +grateful Massasoit had hung there.</p> + +<p>"And, oh!" she exclaimed, "while the Indian +boy was dancing for Joel and me, I looked out to +sea, and I saw such a wonderful bird—a great +white bird, flying along close to the water, and +rising up and down. It was many times greater +than the swans in Amsterdam!"</p> + +<p>"Was it, my little maid?" said the good governor, +laying his hand on her head, and then he +exchanged a keen look with Prudence's father, +saying nothing more. But when the guests had +departed, bearing home the Indian boy in triumph, +none was so early as the governor to reach +the seashore; and it was his call that brought the +colonists to see the good ship <i>Fortune</i> (Prudence's +"great white bird") already rounding the +point, and making ready to cast anchor in Plymouth +harbor.</p> + +<p>Ah, then indeed the great guns rang out from +the shore to hail the ship, and the ship's cannon +boomed a quick reply, and the whole little town +was full and running over with glad welcome for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +the second English vessel to land upon our Massachusetts +coast.</p> + +<p>In the evening a happy circle gathered round +the fire in the house of Prudence's father, and +there was eager talk, for all had much to learn +and to tell.</p> + +<p>"I know now," said Joel to Prudence, as they +sat side by side—"I know now what Thanksgiving +means. It means plenty to eat."</p> + +<p>Prudence looked at the dear faces around her, +at Mehitable's sweet smile, and at the shining +eyes of John Andrews, for he had been a passenger +by the <i>Fortune</i>.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she replied; "but I think, Joel, that +we have Thanksgiving because we are so glad to +be all together once more."</p> + +<p>This first Thanksgiving happened long ago, but +out of it all our later ones have grown; and when +we think of the glad meetings of long-parted parents +and sons and daughters, of the merry frolics +with brothers and sisters and cousins, which come +upon Thanksgiving Day, in spite of our bountiful +dinner-tables we shall agree with Prudence that +it is the happy family party which makes the pleasure, +after all.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> +<h2>SOME INDIAN DOLLS</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY OLIVE THORNE MILLER</div> + + +<div class='cap'>AMONG the wild Indians of our country is +surely the last place one would look for toys, +and travelers have said they had none; but a +closer look brings some to light. On the desk before +me sit two dear creatures, just arrived from +Dakota Territory. They were made by some loving +mother of the Gros Ventre tribe of Indians. +But the unfortunate little redskin girl for whom +they were intended never received them after all, +for they were bought by a white man, and sent to +New York to sit for their picture for you.</div> + +<p>They are a queer-looking pair, dressed in the +most elegant Gros Ventre style. They are eighteen +inches tall, made of cloth, with their noses +sewed on, and their faces well colored; not only +made red, like the skin, but with painted features. +The Indian doll has a gentle expression, with mild +eyes, but the squaw has a wild look, as though she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +were very much scared to find herself in a white +man's tepee. Both have long hair in a braid +over each ear, but the brave has also a quantity +hanging down his back, and a crest standing up +on top—perhaps as "scalp-lock."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 368px;"> +<img src="images/illus158.jpg" width="368" height="475" alt="DOLLS FROM DAKOTA TERRITORY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">DOLLS FROM DAKOTA TERRITORY</span> +</div> + +<p>The dress of the lady resembles, in style and +material, a bathing-suit. It is of blue flannel,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +trimmed with red braid, a long blouse and leggings +of the same. She has also moccasins, and a +string of blue beads around her neck, besides little +dots of beads all over her waist. The suit of the +warrior is similar in style, but the blouse is of unbleached +muslin, daubed with streaks of red paint, +and trimmed with braid, also red. Across his +breast he wears an elaborate ornament of white +beads, gorgeous to behold.</p> + +<p>Beside these Gros Ventre dolls stand another +pair, from a Canada tribe; the squaw dragging a +six-inch-long toboggan loaded with tent and +poles, while the warrior carries his snow-shoes. +She is dressed in red and black flannel, with calico +blouse and cloth hood; tin bracelets are on her +arms, and her breast bears an ornament like a dinner-plate, +also of tin. Her lord and master wears +a dandyish suit of white canton-flannel, fuzzy side +out, a calico shirt, red necktie, and likewise a hood +and tin dinner-plate. They are made of wood, +with joints at hip and shoulder, and the faces are +carved and painted. Wild dolls are curious and +interesting. Let me tell you of a few others I +have seen.</p> + +<p>The little Moquis girls have wooden dolls of +different sizes and degrees. The best have arms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +and legs, are dressed in one garment of coarse +cotton, and instead of hair have feathers sticking +out of their heads, like the ends of a feather +duster.</p> + +<p>A lower grade of Moquis doll has no limbs, but +is gaily painted in stripes, and wears beads as big +as its fist would be, if it had one. This looks as +you would with a string of oranges around your +neck. The poorest of all, which has evidently +been loved by some poor little Indian girl, has in +place of a head a sprig of evergreen. How did +the white man get hold of a treasure like this? Is +the little owner grown up? Is she laid to sleep +under the daisies? Or was this doll left behind +in a hurried flight of the Moquis village before +an enemy?</p> + +<p>It isn't an Edison doll; it can't talk,—so we +shall never know.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WALKING PURCHASE</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY GEORGE WHEELER</div> + + +<div class='cap'>IN the early twilight of a September morning, +more than one hundred and sixty years ago, +a remarkable company might have been seen +gathering about a large chestnut-tree at the +cross-roads near the Friends' meeting-house in +Wrightstown, Pennsylvania. It is doubtful whether +any one of us could have guessed what the +meeting meant. Most of the party were Quakers +in wide-brimmed hats and plain dress, and if it +had been First-day instead of Third-day, we +might have thought they were gathering under +the well-known tree for a neighborly chat before +"meeting." Nor was it a warlike rendezvous; for +the war-cry of the Lenni-Lenape had never yet +been raised against the "Children of Mignon" +(Elder Brother), as the followers of William +Penn were called; and in a little group somewhat +apart were a few athletic Indians in peaceful garb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +and friendly attitude. But it evidently was an important +meeting, for here were several prominent +officials, including even so notable a person as +Proprietor Thomas Penn.</div> + +<p>In 1686, fifty-one years before this, William +Penn bought from the Lenni-Lenape, or Delaware +Indians, a section bounded on the east by +the Delaware, on the west by the Neshaminy, and +extending to the north from his previous purchases +"as far as a man can go in a day and a +half." No effort was made to fix the northern +boundary until the Indians, becoming uneasy at +the encroachments of the settlers, asked to have +the line definitely marked. On August 25, 1737, +after several conferences between the Delawares +and William Penn's sons, John and Thomas, who, +after their father's death, became proprietors of +Pennsylvania, the treaty of 1686 was confirmed, +and a day was appointed for beginning the walk. +This explains why the crowd was gathering about +the old chestnut-tree in the early dawn of that +day, September 19, 1737.</p> + +<p>"Ready!" called out Sheriff Smith.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 382px;"> +<img src="images/illus164.jpg" width="382" height="550" alt=""THE THREE MEN STEPPED FROM THE CROWD AND PLACED THEIR RIGHT HANDS UPON THE TREE"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THE THREE MEN STEPPED FROM THE CROWD AND PLACED THEIR RIGHT HANDS UPON THE TREE"</span> +</div> + +<p>At the word, James Yeates, a native of New +England, "tall, slim, of much ability and speed of +foot," Solomon Jennings, "a remarkably stout<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +and strong man," and Edward Marshall, a well-known +hunter, over six feet tall, and noted as a +walker, stepped from the crowd and placed their +right hands upon the tree.</p> + +<p>Thomas Penn had promised five pounds in +money and five hundred acres of land to the +walker who covered the greatest distance; and +these three men were to contest for the prize. +Just as the edge of the sun showed above the horizon, +Sheriff Smith gave the word, and the race +began.</p> + +<p>Yeates quickly took up the lead, stepping +lightly. Then came Jennings, accompanied by +two Indians, who were there to see that the walking +was fairly done. Closely following them were +men on horseback, including the sheriff and the +surveyor-general. Thomas Penn himself followed +the party for some distance. Far in the +rear came Marshall, walking in a careless manner, +swinging a hatchet in one hand, "to balance +himself," and at intervals munching a dry biscuit, +of which he carried a small supply. He seemed +to have forgotten a resolution he had made to +"win the prize of five hundred acres of land, or +lose his life in the attempt."</p> + +<p>Thomas Penn had secretly sent out a preliminary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +party to blaze the trees along the line of the +walk for as great a distance as it was thought possible +for a man to walk in eighteen hours. So, +when the wilderness was reached, the walkers still +had the best and most direct course clearly +marked out for them. The Indians soon protested +against the speed, saying over and over: "That's +not fair. You run. You were to walk." But the +treaty said, "As far as a man can <i>go</i>," and the +walkers were following it in letter, if not in spirit, +as they hurried along. Their protests being disregarded, +the Indians endeavored to delay the progress +by stopping to rest; but the white men dismounted, +and allowed the Indians to ride, and +thus pushed on as rapidly as ever. At last the +Indians refused to go any farther, and left the +party.</p> + +<p>Before Lehigh River was reached Jennings +was exhausted, gave up the race, and lagged behind +in the company of followers. His health was +shattered, and he lived only a few years.</p> + +<p>That night the party slept on the north side of +the Lehigh Mountains, half a mile from the Indian +village of Hokendauqua. Next morning, +while some of the party searched for the horses +which had strayed away during the night, others<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +went to the village to request Lappawinzoe, the +chief, to send other Indians to accompany the +walkers. He angrily replied: "You have all the +good land now, and you may as well take the bad, +too." One old Indian, indignant at the stories of +how the white men rushed along in their greed to +get as much land as possible, remarked in a tone +of deep disgust: "No sit down to smoke; no shoot +squirrel; but lun, lun, lun, all day long."</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the last half-day's walk begun before +Yeates, who was a drinking man, was overcome +by the tremendous exertions and intemperance +of the previous day. He stumbled at the +edge of Big Creek, and rolled, helpless, down the +bank into the water. When rescued he was entirely +blind, and his death followed within three +days.</p> + +<p>Marshall still pressed on. Passing the last of +the blazed trees which had hitherto guided him, +he seized a compass offered by Surveyor-General +Eastburn, and by its aid still continued his onward +course. At last, Sheriff Smith, who for some time +had frequently looked at his watch, called, +"Halt!" Marshall instantly threw himself at +full length, and grasped a sapling. Here was the +starting-point for the northern boundary of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +purchase of 1686, sixty-eight miles from the old +chestnut-tree at Wrightstown, and very close to +where Mauch Chunk stands to-day. The walk +was twice as long as the Indians expected it to be.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for the Delawares, they knew +too little of legal technicalities to notice that the +deed did not state in what direction the northern +boundary was to be drawn. They naturally expected +it to be drawn to the nearest point on the +Delaware. But the surveyor-general, to please +Penn, decided that the line should run at right +angles to the direction of the walk, which was +almost exactly northwest. Draw a line from +Mauch Chunk to the Delaware so that if extended +it would pass through New York city, and another +to the point where New York, New Jersey, +and Pennsylvania meet. The first is the Indian's +idea of the just way to lay out the northern boundary; +the second is the line which Surveyor-General +Eastburn actually finished marking out in +four days after Marshall's walk ended.</p> + +<p>And so the three hundred thousand acres which +the Indians would have given to the Penns as the +result of Marshall's walk were increased to half +a million by taking selfish advantage of a flaw in +the deed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus169.jpg" width="600" height="408" alt=""THE INDIANS PROTESTED AGAINST THE SPEED"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"THE INDIANS PROTESTED AGAINST THE SPEED"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Lenni-Lenape had loved and trusted William +Penn because he always dealt openly and +fairly with them. "We will live in love with +William Penn and his children," said they, "as +long as the sun and moon shall shine." But the +wrongs inflicted on them in the "walking purchase" +aroused the deepest indignation. "Next +May," said Lappawinzoe, "we will go to Philadelphia, +each one with a buckskin to repay the +presents and take back our land again." It was +too late, however, for this to be done.</p> + +<p>At last, in 1741, the Indians determined to resort +to arms to secure justice. But the Iroquois, +to whom the Delawares had long been subject, +came to the aid of the Penns, and the last hope of +righting the wrong was gone forever.</p> + +<p>There seems a sort of poetic justice in the later +experiences of the principal men in the affair. +Marshall never got his five hundred acres of land, +and his wife was killed in an attack by the Indians. +Eastburn was repudiated by Thomas +Penn, and his heirs were notified that they "need +not expect the least favor." Penn himself was +brought before the king and forced to disown +many of his acts and agents in a most humiliating +manner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p>But all this did not repair the injury to the +Delawares, and they never again owned, as a +tribe, a single inch along the river from which +they took their name.</p> + +<p>A small monument, erected by the Bucks +County Historical Society, marks the spot +where the old chestnut-tree formerly stood. In +order that this might not seem to condone an +unworthy deed, the monument was dedicated, +not to those who made or conducted the walk, but +to the Lenni-Lenape Indians—"not to the wrong, +but to the persons wronged."</p> + +<p>The inscription on the stone reads:</p> + +<div class='bbox2'><div class='center'> +<span class='small'>TO THE MEMORY OF THE LENNI-LENAPE INDIANS,</span><br /> +<span class='small'>ANCIENT OWNERS OF THIS REGION,</span><br /> +<span class='small'>THESE STONES ARE PLACED AT</span><br /> +<span class='small'>THIS SPOT, THE STARTING-POINT</span><br /> +<span class='small'>OF THE</span><br /> + +"INDIAN WALK,"<br /> + +<span class='small'>September 19, 1737.</span><br /> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE FIRST AMERICANS</h2> + +<div class='chapterauthor'>BY F. S. DELLENBAUGH</div> + + +<div class='cap'>IN the middle of the sixteenth century, when +the Spaniards who had followed Columbus +and Cortes to the New World worked their way +northward into the region that is now New Mexico +and Arizona, they found to their surprise a +people dwelling there in well-constructed, flat-roofed +houses of stone. They gave to these people +the name of <i>Pueblos</i>, or villagers, to distinguish +them from the wild tribes; and by this name they +have been known in general ever since, though +each village and cluster of villages has its distinctive +title.</div> + +<p>The Pueblos, instead of roaming about, subsisting +on chance game, cultivated Indian corn so +largely that they ordinarily were able to store a +supply to provide against the possibility of future +famine; and such is still their custom. Not only +had they made this progress in agriculture and architecture, +but they had also done something in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +the way of manufacturing, especially in the +making of pottery and weaving of blankets. +Their pottery was varied in shape and ornamentation +and skilfully modeled without the aid of +a wheel. Of the potter's wheel they are ignorant +to this day, still following the practice of their +forefathers in this matter as in many others. +Their blankets of cotton were unique in their designs; +and these designs are perpetuated to-day +in woolen material, as well as in cotton, though +the latter is now used principally in the sacred +ceremonies.</p> + +<p>Those towns nearest to Santa Fé (which itself +was originally a Pueblo village and is, probably, +the oldest town inhabited by white people in the +United States) came most directly under the influence +of the Spaniards. They made Santa Fé +their seat of government, and gradually many +Spanish customs prevailed among the natives in +this part of the country. The Spanish priests, following +the army of invasion, soon made converts, +and eventually the barbarous rites of the people in +the towns near Santa Fé were abolished in favor +of Christianity. Churches of adobe, or sun-dried +brick, were erected, and the Christian religion +was in time accepted by numerous communities.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>The towns at a distance were not so easy of access, +and hence longer maintained their independence, +supporting and favoring the smoldering +discontent of those in other localities whose +prejudices or patriotism resented the Spanish dominion. +These native patriots believed the salvation +of their country demanded the expulsion of +these domineering foreigners from their land. +We cannot blame them for thus regarding the +Spaniards, for we should certainly resent any +interference by foreign powers with our affairs, +and the Pueblos were, in many respects, a civilized +people and had governed themselves for centuries +before the Spaniards appeared in their territories. +Secretly, these patriots worked to arouse their +fellow-countrymen against the intruders, hoping +to succeed in a revolution which should annihilate +the Spanish power and restore the ancient rites +and customs. Several of these conspiracies were +discovered by the Spanish Governor-General, and +the conspirators paid for their patriotism with +their lives; but, in a few years, others took their +places, and while peace seemed to smile on all the +land, a volcano was seething under the very feet +of the invaders.</p> + +<p>There had been so much internal dissension<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +among the Pueblos over religion and over water-privileges +(often a matter of the utmost importance +in those arid lands) before the arrival of the +Spaniards, that concerted action must have been +difficult to bring about; but at last, near the end +of the seventeenth century, there was a mighty +uprising, the foreigners were driven out of the +country, and retreated into Mexico, and those villages +which had been under the Spanish yoke revived +their native ceremonies, which had been in +disuse for a full century.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Spaniards were not content to +let slip so easily this accession to their king's +domain. Collecting a stronger army, General +Vargas returned, and conquered village after village, +until the rebellion was extinguished for all +time. Never since that day have the Pueblos +shown a warlike spirit, having accepted their +subjugation as inevitable. They were made +citizens by Spain, but since their territory became +a portion of the United States they have +ranked politically with the other Indians. The +last locality to be brought under subjection +was the Province of Tusayan, the home of the +Mokis.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/ill-p176.jpg" width="450" height="463" alt="A PUEBLO INDIAN BESIDE AN EAGLE-CAGE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A PUEBLO INDIAN BESIDE AN EAGLE-CAGE</span> +</div> + +<p>At that time this province was so difficult to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +reach, that the horses of the Spanish general's +troops were completely demoralized, and he was +therefore obliged to omit a visit to Oraibi, the +largest and furthest removed of the villages. He +had, however, met with little resistance from +the inhabitants, and, doubtless, did not deem the +Mokis a warlike race. After the departure of +Vargas, the Mokis continued their old ways and +were seldom visited, so that even now, three and +a half centuries after the first visit of the Spaniards, +they remain nearly in their original condition.</p> + +<p>Next to the Moki towns, the Pueblo of Zuñi +maintained its primitive customs to the greatest +extent, and from similar causes.</p> + +<p>The illustration is from a photograph made in +Zuñi by Mr. Hillers, photographer of the Bureau +of Ethnology, and shows one of the natives, +dressed in the costume of to-day, beside an eagle-cage. +The costume is composed of simple materials, +the trousers being of unbleached cotton, the +shirt of calico, and the turban generally of some +soft red cloth. The Mokis wear their hair cut +straight across the eyebrows in a sort of "bang," +then straight back even with the bottom of the +ear, the rest being made up into a knob behind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +All are particular about their ornaments, caring +little for any common sorts of beads, but treasuring +coral, turquoise, and silver.</p> + +<p>The eagle is sacred among Pueblos who have +not abandoned their native religion, and the feathers +are used in religious ceremonies. For this +reason the eagle is protected and every feather +preserved. His nesting-places are carefully +watched, and often visited, so that a supply of feathers, +from little downy ones no larger than a +twenty-five cent piece to the stiff and long ones +from the wing and tail, are preserved in every +family,—the first, or downy ones, to breathe their +prayers upon; the larger ones for other sacred +uses. Sometimes several "prayers" are fastened +to one little twig that all may proceed together to +their destination. There is something very poetic +in this breathing of a prayer upon a feather from +the breast of an eagle—in flight the king of birds, +familiar with regions which man can know only +through sight.</p> + +<p>The Navajos have no reverence for the bird. +They make raids upon the nesting-places where +for centuries the Mokis have obtained feathers, +and these raids are a common source of trouble +between the two tribes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>None of the present buildings of the Pueblos +are equal in masonry to the ruins common +throughout the region. These were ruins even +when the Spaniards arrived, and, consequently, it +is supposed that a superior people once occupied +the country, who may, however, have been either +ancestors or kindred to the Pueblos. In time the +question may be solved through the numerous +legends illustrated in pottery decoration, for all +the decorations have a meaning, and the legends +are handed down by word of mouth from father +to son. Once when the legends were being discussed, +Pow-it-iwa, an old Moki, poetically remarked +to a friend of mine, "Many have passed +by the house of my fathers, and none has stopped +to ask where they have gone; but we of our family +live to-day to teach our children concerning the +past."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> +<div class='bbox'><div class='center'><span class='big'>ANIMAL STORIES</span><br /> + +RETOLD FROM<br /> + +<span class='big'>ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='small'>IN SIX VOLUMES. EDITED BY M. H. CARTER,</span><br /> +<span class='small'>DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE, NEW YORK</span><br /> +<span class='small'>TRAINING SCHOOL FOR TEACHERS</span><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 28px;"> +<img src="images/leaf.png" width="28" height="28" alt="leaf decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Animal stories"> +<tr><td align='left'>ABOUT ANIMALS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Interesting facts about animals in general.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>BEAR STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Information and adventure.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CAT STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dealing with the cat as a pet.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORIES OF BRAVE DOGS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Showing the dog's love and devotion to man.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LION AND TIGER STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stories of adventure.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PANTHER STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stories of adventure.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class='center'><br /> +<span class='small'>EACH ABOUT 200 PAGES, FULL CLOTH, 12MO</span><br /><br /> +<span class='big'>THE CENTURY CO.</span><br /> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> +<div class='bbox'><div class='center'><span class='big'>GEOGRAPHICAL STORIES</span><br /> +RETOLD FROM<br /> +<span class='big'>ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE</span><br /> +IN SIX VOLUMES<br /> +<br /> +<span class='small'>A Series of Books of Adventure, Travel and Description,</span><br /> +<span class='small'>chiefly in the Great Sections</span><br /> +<span class='small'>of the United States</span><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 28px;"> +<img src="images/leaf.png" width="28" height="28" alt="leaf decoration" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Geographical stories"> +<tr><td align='left'>WESTERN FRONTIER STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stories of the early West, full of adventure.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORIES OF THE GREAT LAKES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Niagara and our great chain of Inland Seas.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ISLAND STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stories of our island dependencies and of many other islands.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORIES OF STRANGE SIGHTS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Descriptions of natural wonders, curious places and unusual sights.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SEA STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tales of shipwreck and adventures at sea.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SOUTHERN STORIES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pictures, scenes and stories of our Sunny South.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class='center'><br /> +Each about 200 pages. 50 illustrations.<br /> +Full cloth, 12mo.<br /> +<span class='big'>THE CENTURY CO.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<div class='tnote'><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> + +<p>Page 134, "racoons" changed to "raccoons" (fawns, raccoons, buffalo)</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Indian Stories Retold From St. Nicholas, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN STORIES RETOLD *** + +***** This file should be named 35021-h.htm or 35021-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/0/2/35021/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/35021-h/images/frontis.jpg b/35021-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7431923 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/frontis.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/ill-p129.jpg b/35021-h/images/ill-p129.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6533ac8 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/ill-p129.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/ill-p13.jpg b/35021-h/images/ill-p13.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bee045e --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/ill-p13.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/ill-p176.jpg b/35021-h/images/ill-p176.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..91c2b18 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/ill-p176.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/ill-p19.jpg b/35021-h/images/ill-p19.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1150241 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/ill-p19.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus013.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus013.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5178027 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus013.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus016.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus016.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7147aac --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus016.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus018.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus018.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..734a4ea --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus018.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus028.png b/35021-h/images/illus028.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a83f5c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus028.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus031.png b/35021-h/images/illus031.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c63f8b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus031.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus033.png b/35021-h/images/illus033.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d292486 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus033.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus036.png b/35021-h/images/illus036.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..95e25da --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus036.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus038.png b/35021-h/images/illus038.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e612a57 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus038.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus039.png b/35021-h/images/illus039.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..af33d37 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus039.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus040.png b/35021-h/images/illus040.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b40115 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus040.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus042.png b/35021-h/images/illus042.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e7342fc --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus042.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus043.png b/35021-h/images/illus043.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d93bc6 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus043.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus044.png b/35021-h/images/illus044.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..938dec2 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus044.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus046.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus046.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3ecd32 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus046.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus055.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus055.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e26be12 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus055.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus072.png b/35021-h/images/illus072.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eab3ccf --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus072.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus080.png b/35021-h/images/illus080.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4a10df9 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus080.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus083.png b/35021-h/images/illus083.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e2d3e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus083.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus085.png b/35021-h/images/illus085.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1a02d27 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus085.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus086.png b/35021-h/images/illus086.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0de4676 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus086.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus087.png b/35021-h/images/illus087.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..01371d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus087.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus089.png b/35021-h/images/illus089.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..da1c94f --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus089.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus096.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus096.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc5a8d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus096.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus101.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus101.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ca4ae9 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus101.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus103.png b/35021-h/images/illus103.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d50161 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus103.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus108.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus108.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ccba31 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus108.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus113.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus113.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..57b336c --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus113.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus120.png b/35021-h/images/illus120.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef4d8b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus120.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus123.png b/35021-h/images/illus123.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..66983c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus123.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus124.png b/35021-h/images/illus124.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38961be --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus124.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus126.png b/35021-h/images/illus126.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f498822 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus126.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus137.png b/35021-h/images/illus137.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..764f1f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus137.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus147.png b/35021-h/images/illus147.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c65ec1 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus147.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus153.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus153.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c115b7b --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus153.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus158.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus158.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b2650a --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus158.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus164.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus164.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..628c0d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus164.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/illus169.jpg b/35021-h/images/illus169.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..412a661 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/illus169.jpg diff --git a/35021-h/images/leaf.png b/35021-h/images/leaf.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6774f4b --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/leaf.png diff --git a/35021-h/images/titlepage.png b/35021-h/images/titlepage.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa67ca6 --- /dev/null +++ b/35021-h/images/titlepage.png |
