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Read Ebook: Punch or the London Charivari Vol. 159 1920-09-29 by Various
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Ebook has 265 lines and 17235 words, and 6 pages
PAGES How the Seasons Came to Be 11
Birth of the Arbutus 18
The Maiden with Golden Hair 24
Origin of the Violet 29
The Beginning of Birds 33
Why the Wind Wails 37
Story of the Humming Bird 43
The Gift of Indian Corn 48
The Stars That Dance 56
The Pukwudjee and the Morning Star 60
The White Hawk 65
How Mosquitoes Came to Be 74
How Birds and Fairies Came to Be 78
Why the Aspen Leaves Are Never Still 83
Why the Baby Says "Goo" 88
Why the Squirrel Coughs 93
Why the Frogs Croak 95
The Rock of the Measuring Worm; El Capit?n, in the Yosemite 99
How the Flying Squirrel Got His Wings 103
Why Brother Bear Wears a Stumpy Tail 111
The Thunder People 118
Keepers of the Winds 123
PAGES "Omeme Said, 'I Will Not Shoot You, Tell Me Your Secret'" 13
"'The Arbutus!' Cried the Children" 21
"Day After Day ... She Stood and Waited for His Coming" 27
"There Arose a Great Flock of Winged Birds" 35
"The Wind Tried to Catch Her in His Embrace" 41
"He Grappled with the Youth and They Wrestled Together" 51
"'I Am a Pukwudjee--A Little Man of the Mountains,' He Said" 63
"Waupee Heard the Strains of the Magic Song" 71
"With a Terrible Cry, the Great Mosquito Flew Down with His Enormous Wings Outstretched" 75
"The Older Sister Looked on with Scorn" 85
"Wasis Sent Forth Such Piercing Yells and Shrieks, that the Warrior Stopped in Amazement" 91
"He Was Fat and Ugly, and His Back Was Covered with Green Slime from the Pool" 97
"Little Jo-nis-gy-ont Had His Own Ideas" 105
"North Wind Saw Him Sitting There with His Eyes Closed and His Tail Hanging Down in the Water" 115
"Wabun Wooed Her with His Soft Breezes ... and the Songs of Birds" 125
INDIAN NATURE MYTHS
HOW THE SEASONS CAME TO BE
THERE was once a little Indian boy who wanted above everything else to become a mighty hunter.
His father, whose name was Ojeeg, the Fisher, was the mightiest hunter of his tribe, and Omeme wanted to be like his father.
Often he went out into the forest with the little bow and arrows which his father had made for him, to hunt the small creatures of the woods. But it was too cold for him to stay long; for in those days there were no seasons, only cold and snow day after day, moon following moon.
So little Omeme often came back to the lodge with fingers stiff and numb. As he shivered and held his fingers over the fire of the lodge, he cried, "There is nothing for Omeme to shoot. The birds fly up to the sun for warmth. The little creatures hide in the forest: they hide far down beneath the snow blanket. It is cold. Omeme can get no game."
One day Omeme met a squirrel in the forest, and the squirrel said, "Do not shoot me, Omeme. I will tell you a great secret."
Then Omeme said, "I will not shoot you. Tell me your secret."
And the squirrel said, "Away up in the Sky Land it is always warm. There is no frost, no snow. If we could have some of the warmth of the Sky Land, we should not always be cold. There would be good hunting for Omeme. There would be plenty for us all to eat."
"But the Sky Land is far away," said Omeme.
"Yes," replied the squirrel, "but Ojeeg is mighty. Could he not go to the Sky Land and bring away some of its warmth?"
"My father is mighty," answered Omeme. "I will ask him."
He ran home, for he had grown cold while listening to the squirrel's secret.
Ojeeg was in the lodge.
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