THE HEART

*5>

OF NATURE

GIFT OF
A. P. Morrison

STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

The lives and habits of plants and animals, however
fancifully treated in this book, are in strict accordance
with the known facts of their existence.

Tommy- Anne stood in the doorway tying a knot in the elastic
of her hat. — p. 2.

FRONTISPIECE

THE HEART OF NATURE

BY

MABEL OS(;ooi) WRIGHT

,r

OF BIRDS AND BEASTS," ETC., ETC.

H7 •/•//• ILLUSTRATIONS BY ALBERT D. BLASIfFIELD

FIRST BOOK

STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1906

AH rights reserved

GIFT 0$

COPTKIGHT, 1896, 1904,
BY

Set up and electrgtyR^. ,,PubJifhcd Japua^y, 1^4. Reprinted

August, 4904.; *;; ..; .* *. .; : ; .••.

'

Nortoooti

J. 8. Gushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.

PREFACE

TOMMY-ANNE and Waddles went out of doors
to find Reason Why, and I have tried to tell you
how they found him.

The winds whispered to Tommy-Anne, and
the birds sang to her; she knew that they bore
messages, but she could not understand them
until Heart of Nature came to help her.

Reason Why is always roving about the fields
and woods, often creeping indoors, or sunning
himself in winter in a warm garden corner. Go
out and question him for yourselves, you healthy,
happy children. If the weather is very cold,
coax him in by the fireside. You will find that
the Three Hearts are always ready to interpret
for you, for the thing that they love best is the
pure child-heart, whether its owner is seven or
seventy.

M. O. W.

M94138

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE MAGIC SPECTACLES 1

II. How THE GRASS GREW . «... 17

III. THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 44

IV. ASPETUCK . . . . . . . 67

V. THE FLOWER MARKET . . . .92

VI. THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 124

vil

ILLUSTRATIONS

Tommy-Anne and Waddles .... Frontispiece

PAGE

" Strange shapes slipping through the grass " . . 1
Tommy- Anne listening to the Voice .... 7
" l Hush, Waddles ! Down close ! I can hear the grass

grow ' " . . . . . . . . .16

" « Nut thief ! ' chattered the Squirrel " ... 17
" In the Moon of Falling Leaves " .... 20

" An acorn, with a crack in it " . . . .26

" Waddles . . . shot down the hill " . . . .29

Tommy-Anne and Rattle ...... 32

" The Owl was roosting in a Yew tree outside a window " 37

Rattle apologizes to the Jay 39

" He was coming up the slope . . . completely out of

breath" .41

Tiger and the ham bone 43

Tiger, the Miller's Cat .44

" * You can see the tip of her beak and the end of her

tail'" 52

The young Robins 53

Wenonah . . 59

Opechee 66

ix

X ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Dahinda's children ....... 67

Dahinda, the Drummer . . . . , . .78

Obi and the snake ........ 84

Returning from the wood . . . . . .91

The Moon Moth . 92

Ruby-throat breakfasting on the roses .... 95
Gitche-ah-mo, the Bumblebee . . . . . 103
" * I am called Tiger Swallow-tail ' " . . . .107

The Monarch Ill

" ' It is a Flying Squirrel '" 123

The Snow Owl and the bearskin rug .... 124
Obi bringing home the Christmas tree .... 127

The Spruce tree and its fruit 133

Sirius, the Dog Star 141

How Tommy-Anne kept the anniversary of The Three

Hearts . 143

INDIAN WORDS

(CHIEFLY ALGONKIAN)

Adjidau'mo .... The Red Squirrel.

A'moe The Honey Bee.

Bukada'win .... Famine.

Chetowaik . . . . . The Plover.
Dahin'da . . . . .The Bull Frog.

Ghee'zis The Sun.

Gitche-ah-mo .... The Bumblebee.

Gushkewau' . . . . The Darkness.

Kabibonok'ka .... The North Wind.

Little Oo-oo .... The Screech Owl.

Mahng The Loon.

Miskodeed The Spring Beauty.

Moon of Leaves .... May.

Moon of Strawberries . . June.

Moon of Falling Leaves . . September.

Moon of Snow-Shoes . . . November.

Ondaig The Crow.

Ope'chee ..... The Robin.

Owais'sa The Bluebird.

Pau'guk Death.

Pe'boan Winter.

xi

xii INDIAN WORDS

Segvvun Spring.

Sliawonda'see .... The South Wind.

Sliaw'shaw The Swallow.

Shi'sheeb The Duck.

Subbeka'she .... The Spider.

Tchin-dees The Jay.

Wabas'so . . . . . The Rabbit. The Spirit

of the North.

Wabe'no ..... The Magician.

Wa'wa The Wild Goose.

Waw'be'ko'ko .... The Snow Owl.

Wawonais'sa .... The Whip-poor-will.

Weeng The Spirit of Sleep.

THE MAGIC SPECTACLES ,

IT was so bright out of doors that particular
May morning that the house seemed very dark
and lonely by comparison. But then, to be sure,
Tommy-Anne never liked to stay indoors, and
everything was beckoning and calling ; so many
strange birds winging over the garden, so many
strange shapes slipping through the grass. The
wind blowing from the hill called : " Come out,
if you wish to see things grow ! " whispering to
the woods as it hurried through : " Make haste,
old Oaks, unfurl your flags ; summer will soon
be here."

Tommy-Anne was not, as might be supposed,
a pair of twins, but a little girl with no brothers
or sisters. Her real name was Diana, which had

B 1

« , 2 c sTQHIJ<iS» QF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

foe'en 'snortentecKto Anne. Then, as she could

^dlwjifr "trees, pire&rre'd boys' games to dolls, and

11 £Lsk6etca great1 mari^ questions about how things

are made, her father called her Tommy- Anne in

fun, and the name suited her so well that people

very soon forgot that she had any other.

Playing alone in the woods and garden, and
doing her lessons seated on the big dictionary
close by her father, as he worked in his study,
Tommy- Anne had time to think of a great many
whys and whats and becauses that very few people
understood, and that no one seemed to have
time to answer. Her Aunt Prue, who consid-
ered Tommy-Anne as odd as her name, and was
the only one of the family at home that day, told
the child to "go out and try to be like other
people," simply because she had asked a few
particularly difficult whys.

Tommy- Anne stood in the doorway, tying a
knot in the elastic of her hat, and wondering
why her hat would not stick on without being
fastened, as the butcher-boy's did.

Two odours perplexed her inquisitive nose, —

-cake in process of baking and a breath of the

first apple blossoms. Without hesitating, she

started in the direction of the orchard ; but her

little rabbit-hound, Waddles, was more interested

THE MAGIC SPECTACLES 3

in the cake. He raised his pointed muzzle in
the air, sniffed, then gave a short bay and looked
at his mistress appealingly.

"No, it's not a bit of use, Waddles, wishing
for things out of time, when Aunt Prue is at
home alone. Aunt Prue says things must be
as they are ordered. Now, that's all very well
for things that one can't help, but why do people
make unnecessary rules and say they must be
kept just because they've been made? Cake is
for supper and pudding for dinner, Waddles !
Never cake before dinner, and it's only after break-
fast now. Did you ever have cake before dinner? "
Whereupon Waddles looked very knowing, and
gave a few short barks to signify that he believed
that he had.

"I suspect that you are a glutton, Mr. Wad-
dles," Tommy-Anne continued. " Come, let's
run up-hill, for you certainly are too fat and
need exercise. Doesn't the air make you want
to curl up your feet and make wings of your
ears, and fly? What a lovely bat you would
make, Waddlekins ! Twenty times as big as
Dusky Wings, that comes out of the attic win-
dow every night." And Tommy- Anne spread
her arms and rushed up the slope, the hound fol-
lowing her in full cry.

4 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

She dropped at the foot of the first tree that
she reached, which happened to be an old white
oak, and, after she stopped panting, pulled a
handful of willow whistles, that the butcher-boy
had made, from her pocket, and began sorting
them into her lap. She blew each one in turn,
but was dissatisfied with them all. "If I only
understood the birds' language, then they would
answer me," she said.

"Bob-white! Bob-white!" called a quail from
the brush lot.

" Ah ! that is plain enough ; he is telling me
his name. I can talk to him."

" Bob-white ! " she blew clearly on her longest
whistle. For several minutes Tommy-Anne and
the quail exchanged greetings, and then he
changed his note to — "Poor Bob-ivhite"

" Poor Bob-white " — she answered readily.
" He must be trying to tell me about his unfort-
unate relations who were killed by the gunners
last fall. No, that can't be it either ; I'm all
boggled up. He is talking my language, but I'm
not learning his a bit," and she stretched her-
self on the moss, her chin on her hands.

"I wish I knew why" sighed Tommy-Anne,
looking up through the branches.

THE MAGIC SPECTACLES 5

" Why what ? " said a Voice close beside her.

"Why everything," she replied, looking about,
expecting to see the owner of the voice.

The house stood quite below her, the garden
and orchard coming between. In the other
direction trees, in sociable groups of twos and
threes, straggled along until they crowded to-
gether to make the wood at the top of the hill.
It was very still for a moment ; she could hear the
river bubbling over the stones beyond the high-
way, the horse stamping as he shifted his footing
in the stable.

"This is very queer," said Tommy- Anne, ad-
dressing Waddles, who was lying at her feet.
" Didn't you hear some one speak ? Why don't
you bark, sir ? "

She walked around the oak and toward the
wood, but finding no one, returned to her seat,
and leaning her back against the tree, said
more earnestly than before, "I do wish I knew
why."

" WHY WHAT ? " said the Voice, very much
louder than before.

Tommy- Anne jumped to her feet and looked at
the great Oak, for the Voice came from that direc-
tion. All that could be seen was the furrowed
trunk, whose bark was split and scarred by

6 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

weather and decay. She put her ear to a little
crack and listened.

" Yes, I am here," said the Voice ; " I was
here before. Why is it that when you House
People look for a clue, you search the corners
of the earth for what is close at home ? We
Wood Folk know that as a trail ends in cover it
cannot begin in the open."

"Really, really I don't know," said Tornmy-
Anne, in confusion. " I never heard a tree talk
before, and I was looking for a person, you see."

" I am not a tree," said the Voice, " though I
seem to be living in one now."

" Oh, I am so glad," she cried. " Because if
you are clever enough to get into a tree, perhaps
you can tell me some whys.

" I should be very glad to help you to get out.
Please, how shall I begin ? Shall I scoop a hole
in the tree with my knife ? It's a rather slow
knife, though."

The Voice did not answer for several minutes,
and then it sounded directly in her ear.

"What are the things you want to know,
Tommy- Anne ? " it said.

" All. the whys and whats and becauses, the rea-
sons for things," she answered eagerly. " But how
did you know my name when I don't know yours ? "

She put her ear to a little crack and listened. — p. 6.

THE MAGIC SPECTACLES 9

" That is easily told," said the Voice ; " I have
often heard your father calling you."

" Of course ! how stupid of me ! I might have
known that, for if it had been Aunt Prue that
you heard, she would have said Di-a-n-a, and
you would never have guessed that my usual
name is Tommy-Anne.

" I want to know so many things," she contin-
ued. " Everything about the garden and the
woods, the water and the sky. If the flowers are
sorry that they can't move about, and what they
think of ; where the birds spend the winter, and
why they sing before they go to sleep. I want
to know what all the noises are, that I hear in
the woods when it is dark ; why the rain does
not put the fireflies' lights out, and where the
butterflies come from. Then there is the river,
too ; it always says the same thing when it tum-
bles over the dead willow below the bridge ; it
seems as if I must understand it."

" If you wish to know so many things, Tommy-
Anne," said the Voice, "you must go to Why-
land and see for yourself, for there everything
tells its own story, and each one sees and hears
what he most desires."

" Whyland, thy land,
Away in the cannibal island ! "

10 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

she repeated. " The Butcher-boy knows a song
that goes something like that, only I am not very
sure of the words. Is it near Wonderland,
where Alice met the mad March Hare and the
Cheshire Cat? Or by Fairyland, where Riquet
with the Tuft and the Sleeping Beauty lived?
Perhaps it is the North Country, where the
Storks build their nests on the chimney stones,
and the poor little Tin Soldier floated down the
gutter, and the Street Lamp was so sad?"

" No, Tommy-Anne ; the people in Whyland
are real people, though their speech is so strange
to the House People that they think it fairy talk.
Whyland covers the whole earth ; and though I am
a ruler in it, yet there are different interpreters to
teach its languages, for no one may learn them all.

" You are a thoughtful child (the heedless can
never learn even one of these languages), so you
may learn the speech of the nearest corner and
the ways of its people, and see them through the
Magic Spectacles, that give both sight and hear-
ing to those who wear them."

"Magic Spectacles?"

" Yes, surely ; for no one can more than peep
into Whyland without them, and then it seems a
dreary place — all facts and figures like the mul-
tiplication table.

THE MAGIC SPECTACLES li

" In Whyland the talk I would teach you is
of the NEARBY ! The speech of the small river ;
of the Fox that drinks of it ; of the Water Snake
that spreads its dark folds on the overhanging
grape-vine ; of the Red Squirrel in the corn-
crib ; of the Mole tunnelling the garden path ; of
the Woodchuck slinking through the field ; of the
Coon in his tree hollow ; and the Wild Cat
that creeps to the wood edge at the first snow-
fall.

"The talk of the feathered brothers as they
follow the year around, from the first Bluebird
to the great Snowy Owl that comes when the
Christmas trees are trimmed.

"You shall learn the language of the flowers
that you tie for a bouquet, of the ferns that live
in the deep woods, and are so shy that they speak
only to the mosses ; you shall hear the tales that
the old trees tell, as they rock to and fro croon-
ing. The brotherhood that I may teach you
of, is of the Beehive and The Little Beasts Near
Home."

" What must I take with me to Whyland,
dear Tree Man ? " asked Tommy- Anne.

" You need not carry anything but your mind ;
for without that you cannot see even through
the Magic Spectacles."

12 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" Oh ! I know one what already," she cried,
clapping her hands after a little habit of her
own, because very often when she was glad she
had no one to tell it to ; "I know what absent-
minded means, now. It is not to see what is
straight under your nose, because your thinker
is somewhere else ! Dear Mr. Tree Man, please,
please, tell me your real name and what the
Magic Spectacles are made of, and how long
I may wear them. I thought that magic things
were not really-trulies."

"The House People have a habit of calling
many things that they cannot understand with
their every-day eyes, magical or untrue, but I
cannot tell you how the Magic Spectacles are
made until you have worn them. While you
have them on you will understand the speech of
beasts and birds, while they will not fear you;
and you shall wear these spectacles until Christ-
mas eve.

" Remember ! the pass-word in this new world
is BROTHERHOOD ! "

A breeze blew Tommy-Anne's hair about her
face, and as she shook it back and tucked the
curly ends under the ribbon, everything appeared
to be more distinct, and she heard a babel of soft
voices.

THE MAGIC SPECTACLES 13

" The Magic Spectacles ! I have the Magic Spec-
tacles, though I can't feel them," she cried, put-
ting her hands to her eyes. Looking up, she
saw an old man standing where the Oak tree
had been. At least, she thought at the first
glance that he was old, because everything about
him seemed gray ; when she looked again, she
saw that it was not the gray of age, but rather
the colour of the pearly mist that follows the
spring rains and makes the earth bud forth. His
face was kindly, thougli many varying expres-
sions passed over it, some tender, some very
stern. Tommy- Anne was puzzled; it was unlike
any face that she had ever seen before.

" Are you very old, Tree Man ? " she asked
timidly.

" I have lived a great many years, if that is
what you mean by being old. But if you under-
stand age as nearing the end of life as you know
it, then I am young."

" Your name ; please tell me your real name
before you go," begged Tommy-Anne, as she
saw that the form of the Tree Man was melting
away in the branches of the Oak.

Pausing a moment, he said : " Listen child ;
there are Three Hearts that together rule every-
thing, the seen and the unseen: each has a law

14 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

and language of its own, which you will learn
in time. I am one of these rulers, though not
the greatest, and my name is — Heart of Nature."
Then the great Oak stood alone, and through
all the treetops there ran a mysterious whisper:
" Heart o' Nature ! Heart o' Nature ! "

" We are in great luck, aren't we, Waddles ? "
said Tommy-Anne, after a long silence. " I
do not think I understand exactly what the Tree
Man means about the Three Hearts, but I sup-
pose he will tell me before next Christmas. Oh,
Waddles dear ! when we can ask as many ques-
tions as we please and have them answered, don't
you think it will be very hard to have to go
into the house at night?"

"The Tree Man did not say that you must
not ask questions in the house."

" No ; I don't remember that he did ; but I
hardly think it would be polite in us to trouble
the beasts and things to come so far from home ;
and suppose Aunt Prue was to see them ! Of
course we can talk to the mice, and there are
sometimes nice big ants in the sugar-jar, but
we had better save those for rainy days."

"I do not mind staying out all night, if it's
moonlight, but I do hope you will not forget

THE MAGIC SPECTACLES 15

dinner time ; you often do now," said the hound,
with a sigh.

" Why ! how plainly you can answer me, "
cried Tommy-Anne, in delight ; " I never un-
derstood more than half that you used to say."

"No, mistress, you did not" said Waddles,
complacently. " You never would understand,
though I kept saying the same thing over and
over again. I always had to push and jump,
make faces or wag my tail, before you would
attend to me. That is the reason why I some-
times helped myself, to save you trouble ; but
your aunt always mistakes my motives and
cuffs my ears.

"By the way, now that we understand each
other, would you mind telling your aunt never
to cuff my ears? You cannot tell how it up-
sets my brain and makes it roar until tears come
in my eyes, and all day long I can hardly tell
a rat from a rabbit, and then you scold me and
call me dumpish. An ache in ears like mine is ten
times as big as it is in little ones like yours. Yet,
when you have an earache you go to bed and have
a nice, soft, hot-water bag to comfort it, while
most likely I end the day in the wood-house."
And Waddles looked up at Tommy-Anne with
a very sad expression in his great brown eyes.

16

STOllIES OF PLANTS AM) ANIMALS

" Oh, doggie ! " she cried, standing him up on
his hind legs and squeezing his cold nose against
her cheek, while she drew his silky ears gently
through her hand. " I've pulled you about by
these often, but I'll never do it again ; I'm so
sorry." Whereupon Waddles gave her a forgiv-
ing little kiss, which, according to the best dog
etiquette, was a dainty lick on the end of her
nose.

As Tommy-Anne stooped over him, she heard
a faint sound coming from the ground. Press-
ing her ear to the sod, she laid her finger on
her lips, whispering, " Hush, Waddles ! Down
close ! I can hear the grass grow ! "

II

HOW THE GRASS GREW

"PUSH, thrust! Push, thrust! Now all to-
gether ! " whispered the small voices.

" Jump up, Waddles, quick ! " cried Tommy-
Anne. "See what you've been sitting on."
Waddles raised himself slowly from force of
habit, for his mistress seldom stayed long in one
place, a'nd gave a sly smile as if he knew per-
fectly well that he was sitting on grass, if she
did not.

" Pray do not disturb yourselves ; I am quite
used to being crushed ; I rather like it," said a
little voice, which Tommy-Anne found proceeded
from a blade of grass. "I have some visitors
here, however, from the Oak, Beech, and Fir
families that feel quite differently."
c 17

18 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

Looking at what seemed to be merely a stretch
of rather dead sod, to which the colour of spring
was coming very slowly, Tommy-Anne saw innu-
merable little spikes like green bayonets, pricking
through the brown mat, and as they came up,
they called encouragingly to each other. Here
and there, between .this young grass, appeared
the sprouts of stronger plants, some bearing a
pair of long, saw-edged leaves pressed together,
like hands, palm to palm ; others shooting out a
half-dozen green spokes at the top of the stem,
like a wheel that lacked the tire.

Made bold by the humble manner of the grass,
Tommy-Anne asked, " Why are you so late in
coming up? The grass in the garden and past-
ure was green long ago, and down by the river
it has been bright all winter."

"For two reasons," said the nearest Grass-blade,
shivering a little as it straightened its bayonet.
" We are all new here, fresh from the seed, and
we are late because the sun forgot to call us."

" Why did 'the old grass die? It was thick and
strong last summer and grew all in little bunches.
Waddles and I used often to sit upon it. Do
you think that it was discouraged?"

" No, not that ; but in this place last Moon
of Snow-Shoes, Kabibonokka and Shawondasee

HOW THE GRASS GREW. 19

fought their great battle, arid where they fight the
grass is blasted, the bushes shrivel, and even the
great oaks themselves bud forth but grudgingly."

"Who are Kabibonokka and Shawondasee, and
what is the Moon of Snow-Shoes? " asked Tommy-
Anne, with deep interest.

44 Pardon me," said the Grass-blade, politely ; "I
forgot that in our language we still have some
names and words that the House People do not
use. We learned them from the Red Brothers,
the first men who lived with us here, and they
understood our secrets, speaking our speech until
our language mixed itself with theirs and theirs
with ours, and we remember a word from this
tribe, another from that. Moon of Snow-Shoes
means November, and was in those days the
beginning of the season you call winter. Then
the deep snows coming early cover everything,
so that none could go abroad unless on snow
shoes, whose wide, flat, latticed soles slid safely
on the crust, and in this way the Red Brothers
followed the Fox and Rabbit trails in -

Here Waddles raised his head, uttered n i
of bays that could be heard for miles, <
about the great Oak, head down, as if he was iiu..
then threw himself on the grass, rolling and whin-
ing petulantly.

20

STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" I was very thoughtless,"
sighed the Grass-blade, con-
tritely, "to mention snow
and Rabbits before a Rabbit
hound ; no wonder it was too
much for his feelings. But
where were we ? "

" You were explaining
about the things that fought
and killed the grass."

" Oh yes! Kabibonokka is
the North Wind, and Sha-
wondasee, his rival, the South
Wind. The South Wind
always has Gheezis, the Sun,
for his companion, while the
North Wind keeps with him
Gushkewau, the short dark days, Wabasso, the
Snow Rabbit, the spirit of the North ; while fol-
lowing them, trampling down the Wood Folk,
often stalk - Bukadawin, Famine, and Pauguk,
Death.

" All plants have blood in them the same as the
House People and other animals, only plant blood
is very seldom red, but pale and greenish, and
you call it sap. In the Moon of Falling Leaves,
which is the first month of your autumn, Kabi-

HOW THE GRASS GREW 21

bonokka begins to murmur afar off, and the tree
blood, hearing the sound, creeps from the branches
to the trunk, and from the trunk down to the roots
beneath the ground, to stay there lest it should
freeze while Kabibonokka reigns.

44 Then the leaves, having no blood to fill their
veins and nourish them, drop off and dry away.
So Kabibonokka, coming, cries out, 4See how
Shawondasee fears me. All the leaves that sang
to him have fallen before me, trembling; all the
flowers that he wreathed about him are pale and
dead with fear. Even his mate, the sun god
Gheezis, hastens away and leaves short days to
harbour Bukadawin and Pauguk.

44 4 Come back, soft Summer Wind, with tender
muscles. Come back, thou, pink-lipped with
strawberry-eating. I, even I, the North Wind,
will wrestle with you for your strengthening! '

44 Now the plant blood should stay beneath the
ground, until Heart of Nature calls the South
Wind back, and bids the Sun shine through the
earth and say, 4 Up ! up ! flow up, green sap, and
swell the buds to make the Moon of Leaves,' —
your spring.

44 But sometimes Shawondasee is lingering too
near, and hears Kabibonokka's challenge, and
breaking the law, comes back to fight, and then

22 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

this evil happens, for evil always follows the
breach of Nature's laws.

" List n ! The North Wind whistles, the sap
runs down ; the South Wind calls, the sap starts
to flow upward, thinking its si ep is over. Then
upward, downward, while the battle lasts, it goes,
until finally, Kabibonokka, satisfied, takes the
Snow Owl on his shoulder, and leads Peboan, the
Winter, to the northland.

" Then Shawondasee calls again, this time in
earnest; but the poor sap, weak and tired (and
in the small plants spent and lifeless), answers
him slowly, even in the sturdy trees crawling
but feebly, not having force to reach the topmost
branches, finding in its course many buds, both
dead and dying. Then the House People say,
4 Look at that treetop ; it is winter-killed ! '
And when this happens, all the hope of life for
tender things is in the seed.

44 When Heart of Nature is obeyed, then all
goes rightly. Kabibonokka and Peboan come to-
gether bringing the White Owls with them, and
the snow falls thick and covers everything so
deeply that the South Wind flies before it, and
the tree blood, hearing no disputing, waits in
peace."

44 Dear Mr. Grass," said Tommy- Anne, 44 how

HOW THE GRASS GREW 23

could a tiny seed such as you come from, live
through this great fight? I helped my father
sow some of you last fall, down in the new
meadow, and you were like specks of dust."

" Yes ; we are only dust-motes borne by the
breeze. We were of the seed you scattered, and
the wind swept us here under this Oak.'*

" But," persisted she, " why didn't you grow
then like the other seeds ? why did you wait so
long?"

"Because, little House Child, the first lesson
we bits of plant life have to learn is — when and
how to wait.

' 4 We cannot move from place to place and
shift our homes like the animals, according to
the seasons and the weather ; so from first to
last, waiting is our portion.

" The little seed, lying on the ground, waits for
the rain and sun to touch it before it may swell
and grow ; the plant waits for the roots to suck
nourishment from the earth and air before it can
form the flower ; the flower, spreading glowing
colours to the sun, or wafting perfume through
the night, waits for the Bee, the Butterfly, the
Hummingbird, the Moth, to bring it food to fill
the little seed germs that it holds within its
heart. And, last of all, the bursting pod waits

24 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

for the wind, the birds, the hand of man, to scatter
the seeds afar, lest, falling too close about the
parent plant, they choke for lack of soil.

"Back in the Moon of Falling Leaves, when
we were blown here to this barren spot, if we had
sprouted like our brothers in the warm sheltered
meadow, the first rain, gullying down the slope,
would have washed us out before we had firm
footing. The Voice said wait until the sun looks
backward toward the west at evening and shines
full on you from between the birches. For many
weeks the clouds hung low, but yesterday the sun
remembered us at last, and to-day you see that we
are here."

" Who do you mean by the Voice ? Was
it the Tree Man who gave me the Magic Spec-
tacles?"

" Yes, the very same, — Heart of Nature."

" What do you think of this, Waddles dear, or
did you know all about it before ? " said Tommy-
Anne.

" No, Mistress, I never bothered the grass with
such questions ; we always talk upon a different
subject. I put my nose down close and whisper,
'What beast tracked through here last, and
which way did he run ? ' The grass always an-

HOW THE GRASS GREW 25

swers me truly — 4this way or that.' If I do not
tree the cat or find the rabbit burrow, it is sure
to be because you call me back.

" The Tree Man told you that in Whyland each
one heard what he wished to hear the most, so you
hear tho grass say a great many whys, but I hear
Catssiud Rabbits."

" Get up, you lazy Waddles, and see if we can
find the little trees that do not like to be trodden
on. Yes, here is one, I am sure ; only you have
broken it almost off. I wonder what it would
have grown to be."

" An Oak tree," said a vigorous little voice ;
" a white Oak like the big one overhead."

Tommy-Anne, looking intently, saw many ten-
der, pinkish green sprouts coming from the ground,
each with a few long, wave-edged leaves along
its stems. One of them was stretching his leaves
and talking.

"Tell me," she asked, "how did you grow so
much quicker than the grass ? You look very
strong and juicy."

"With pleasure, Tommy-Anne," it replied.
" Pull up the broken sprout, and I will endeavour
to explain."

She drew herself together quite unconsciously,
and pulling up the broken tree, held it in her

26 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

hand. The Oak's voice was pleasant, but it
spoke with authority, not humbly like the grass.
For an Oak, no matter how small, never forgets
its dignity, never whispers like a Birch, or titters
and flutters like an Aspen.

" What have you in your hand ? " it continued.
"An acorn, with a crack in it, and a
sprout growing up with leaves on it,
and a sprout growing down with little
hairs on it," she replied ; for she had
been taught by her father to see and
answer accurately ; " but please don't
ask me whys and because*, for I don't
know anything, — no, not one thing."
"People who ask so many whys
and whats must answer sometimes to
show that they understand ; and if you
understand me you will know how all
trees grow/' said the Oak, proudly.
" I was a little speck of oak life,
shut up in an acorn like the one you have in
your hand. In it I fell to the ground last
season, before the leaves. About me in the
acorn was packed nice sweet food, to nourish
me in growing until my roots could feed me from
the earth.

"A while ago the Voice called, and at the

HOW THE GRASS GREW 27

sound my heart swelled so with gladness that I
burst the shell. The sun called one way, and
the moist earth the other ; so I reached upward
with a hand and groped downward with a foot,
though still anchored by the acorn. The sun
warmed me, but as yet I could not feed myself,
and lived upon the food wrapped up for me,
until to-day. Look ! now I have a rooting in
the soil, and leaves to catch the dew, and I have
eaten every bit of my food — the acorn-shell is
empty ! So is it with all seeds. Of all the plants
that creep or climb or float upon the water, great
or small, tree or bush, the seed birth is the same."

Tommy-Anne sat still for a long time, her face
between her hands ; in fact, she was so still that
Waddles became nervous and poked his nose
into her face anxiously, saying : " Why don't
you speak to something else, mistress? This
Oak is very gloomy and not over-polite. I
should think, after saying so much about food,
the least thing it could do would be to offer us
something to eat."

"Be still, Waddles ; what if it should hear you?
Don't you know that Aunt Prue says it is awful to
ask for anything to eat if you are visiting, even
if you are shrivelling with hunger. The most
you may hint at even is a glass of water."

28 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

"Who is visiting, mistress — we or the Oak?"
persisted Waddles, sturdily. "It is our ground,
you know."

"Then the Oaks must be our guests, and we
must be very nice to them."

" I don't see why ; we did not invite them to

come."

" For shame, Waddles ! Aren't you enough of
a gentleman to know that you must be extra
polite to the people you didn't invite, so that
they will feel comfortable, and not know that
there is not quite enough for dinner until they
get to the table ? "

" I don't see what all that has to do with the —

" Tommy- Anne," interrupted the Oak, "if that
small dog of yours thinks he is hungry again,
there is Adjidaumo, the Red Squirrel, that lives
in the big Oak, whom he might try to catch for
amusement ; and if he is really hungry, why
doesn't he dig up the ham bone he buried in the
orchard this morning? It was a fine bone, with
good meat upon it. The Blacksmith's cat, Tiger,
is smelling around the spot now "

Up jumped Waddles, his tail standing out
like a pump handle, and casting a reproachful
look at the tell-tale tree, and a shamefaced one
at his mistress, he shot down the hill.

HOW THE GRASS GREW

29

"Then Waddles really did steal that ham, as
Aunt Prue said," mused Tommy- Anne to herself.
"Never mind; it will take him some time to chase
the cat, and I can talk a little longer with the
Oak. I don't think it was offended." So she
said, " Will you please tell me where the flowers
get the food that they pack in the seeds' lunch

baskets ? "

"That is not for me
to explain, child. That
story belongs
to the mes-

s

sengers of

Flowerland, tl

Hummingbird and the

Moon Moth. They

will tell it to you when they guide you through

the Flower Market and to the Land of Nod."

" The Flower Market and the Land of Nod !
Oh, where are they ? Are they places in Why-
land?"

" Yes ; they are in Whyland ; the Flower
Market is where the Flowers live, from spring to
leaf -fall. The Land of Nod is where the Flowers
close their eyes and go to sleep.

" If you wish to go to the Flower Market, wait

30 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

early in the morning by the tulips in the garden,
and when a Hummingbird comes by, wearing a
patch of sparkling rubies on his throat, gather
a bunch of single tulips and offer them to him,
saying, 4 Will you breakfast on my flowers, and
take me with you to the Flower Market ? '

" If he feeds upon the tulips, then you may
follow him.

" But if you wish to visit the Land of Nod,
then stand at sunset on the garden's border,
and presently a great green Moth with moon-
light-coloured wings will flutter past. Hold out
your hand and whisper softly : ' Moon Moth,
may I go with you to the Land of Nod?' If
he lights upon your hand, then you may follow
him."

Tommy-Anne clasped her hands and looked up
at the sky, with a little smile of deep content.
This smile meant also gratitude, for she was very
grateful.

" A few more questions ; may I ask a very few
more ? " she said shyly, as if afraid that even an
Oak might grow tired of whys.

"With pleasure," it answered, "if they are
about trees. The fact is I am very young and
have not had time to learn much, but of course I
know all the history of our best tree families."

" Well, Mr. Rattle, what have you to say?"— p. 33.
32

HOW THE GRASS GREW 33

" Thank you, dear patient little Oak ! I will
put some sticks around you, so that no one shall
crush you until you grow big enough to stand by
yourself. You fell from the great Oak above ;
but how did the other trees, that I see in the
grass, come here? I am sure that there are no
others with leaves like theirs, nearby."

" Pr-r-r-r-ink ! Pr-r-r-ink. Pr-u-p ! Pr-u-p !
Pr-r-r-ink," chattered a voice from a branch of
tlu! great Oak that reached over Tommy- Anne's
head. She knew before looking up that it was
Adjidaumo, the Red Squirrel, who was talking
and scolding.

There he sat, his tail curved up over his back,
his round ears twitching, his poppy eyes gazing
several ways at once, while he munched at a
bunch of apple blossoms that he held between his
front paws.

"Pr-r-r-ink ! Pr-r-r-r-r ! " he called again, turn-
ing suddenly about, so that he faced her.

"Well, Mr. Rattle, what have you to say? Do
you know how the seeds of the other trees came
here," she asked, shaking her finger at him, for
they were old friends.

" Certainly I do ; that is, of a part of them at
least. I live in a hole under this tree, and my
nest is up in the cedar yonder; and often

34 STOKIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

when I've been to market over in the hickories
above the river, or in the chestnuts behind the
mill, and carry a great load home, I drop some
of the nuts, and they grow.

" I don't think you know how hard I have to
work sometimes, mistress, to get in our winter
store of food. I carried four quarts of chestnuts,
two nuts at a time, from over the river, and that
wicked little dog of yours chased me every time
I crossed your garden wall."

" He isn't a wicked dog ; father says it is his
nature to chase little beasts for food."

"Yes, for food. We all may take what we
need to eat. Heart of Nature allows that.
But Waddles is never really hungry ; he has
learned bad habits of the House People, and
chases for sport, to see us run, as they do. We
understand what hunger is and know all its ex-
cuses, but our law is like the Red Brother's,—
'take what ye need to eat.'

"Many a* weary run I've had across the open,
half choking, with my cheeks stuffed out with
nuts, the dog behind, and not a tree to save me.
One thing comforts me ; I've dropped so many
chestnuts on the way that a forest will surely
grow there to shelter my great-grandchildren.
Pr-r-r-r-ut ! Pr-r-ink ! " laughed Rattle.

HOW THE GRASS GREW 35

"You brought me further than from the mill
woods," said a thin, piping voice. " I sprouted
two years ago, and I was so lonely, but I'm very
thin and small, hardly bigger than my brothers
of this spring."

"Who are you?" said Tommy-Anne. "Are
you a tree ? You and your brothers look like
little whisps of moss."

" A tree ? of course I am, and a very important
tree too ; — a Christmas tree, — or at least my
mother was." And the little Spruce paused
proudly, as if nothing more could be said in its
praise.

" Then you must have come from Wild Cat Moun-
tain ; Christmas trees do not grow any nearer," she
replied, looking down with great respect at the
few dark green bristles that represented the tree.

"Yes, our family has lived there for centuries;
I was a seed in a cone that Rattle brought home ;
he stripped it and ate all the other seeds, then
dropped the cone, thinking it finished ; that is
why there is only one of me. Last year cones
were in plenty. Rattle was careless, and scat-
tered so many about here that now I have many
companions."

"They do not grow as the Oak did; they
have six little green fingers instead of leaves."

36 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" Certainly, our family follows its own cus-
toms. Every respectable plant family has its
own habits, shape, and colours. In some the
leaves are broad, in some narrow ; in some the
veins run up and down, and in others across,
like spider webbing (you will learn our laws
in the Flower Market). In one thing we are all
alike ; — We all have roots, and we come from
the spark of life that our mothers pack into the
seed lunch baskets."

" Oh, oh ! I see," said Tommy-Anne ; " the food
that Rattle finds in the nuts and cones was packed
away to feed the plant life while it grew.

44 But if I were you, little Spruce, I would
rather stay out in the wood and grow tall, so
that I could see over the hills to salt water,
than be cut down for a Christmas tree when I
was quite young."

"Tommy-Anne, have you never seen a Christ-
mas tree, that you should talk so? The Snow
Owl has seen one ! He told my grandmother
about it, and our family have never since com-
plained when House People come and cut our
brethren down after the first snow. He saw it
in the great house in the village, the one where
people go on Sundays, wearing their best clothes.
The house that points up to the sky with one

HOW THE GRASS GREW

37

long, white finger. The

Owl was roosting in a Yew

tree outside a window, when

a bright light shone out into

the dark, and he was about

to fly away, fearing some

trap or magic, when he

saw inside this house one

of our family all blooming

with sucli flowers as the

Snow Owl never saw before.

He said the tree bore gold and

silver fruit instead of dingy cones, and

that a great star, bigger than Sirius, the winter

watchman, hung on the top, and that lights more

brilliant than the fires of the north spangled the

branches. Then he said that House People and

their children came and sang songs to the tree

and did it homage. He promised to come back

and tell us more, if ever he could go inside the

house and see it closer."

" You dear little Spruce ! / have a Christmas
tree every year ; and now that I understand the
speech of Whyland, I will invite the Snow Owl
and all his friends to come and see it lighted."

Rattle grew jealous of the attention the tree
was receiving and began to chatter again. Just

38 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

then a fine blue bird, with a pointed cap and black
collar, flew near, crying in a harsh voice, " Jay,
Jay ! " as if anxious to tell his name, and dropped
on the branch close to Rattle, who was beginning
to eat a fresh bunch of apple blossoms.

" Egg sucker ! " screamed the Jay.

44 Nut thief ! " chattered the Squirrel, humping
his back with rage.

" Where are my four fine fresh eggs ? " shrieked
the bird.

44 Where are my first quality beech nuts?"
squeaked the Squirrel. And without more ado
they began to fight desperately.

44 Stop, you horrid things ! " called Tommy-Anne,
resolutely. 44 You are both wrong. Father says
people mostly are when they fight, and that they
do it because they can't make excuses even to
themselves.

44 Stop this minute, or I will tell the butcher-
boy where you live, and he will hunt you away.
He can find anything, even a Hummingbird's
nest."

This dreadful threat ended the quarrel, and the
fighters began very meekly to explain ; but an-
other voice coming from the grass said, 44The
Jay did not steal the nuts ; he gathered them him-
self from the top of the great Beech tree on the

HOW THE GRASS GREW 39

lawn. I ought to know, because I am one of them
that he dropped."

" Yes, we are some that he dropped," said all
the little Beech trees in chorus. v***^*^

" Then," said Rattle, bowing
politely to the Jay, with one
hand on his heart, " I will
say that / did not suck
your eggs. It was Kaw-
Ondaig, the lame-winged
Crow, who did it. I saw him
this morning when I was
leaping through the treetops
for exercise. But you need not make such a
fuss about it, Tchin, for you know those eggs
would never have hatched, because you arid your
wife let them grow cold yesterday, while you
were worrying that Warbler who wished to build
on the ground under your tree. Poor Kaw is
old and feeble and cannot go out with the flock
down to the cornfields, or over to the shore for
mussels. Think twice before you try to make a
fight over bad eggs, friend Tchin I "

Tommy-Anne asked the Jay, after he had
grown quiet, if he could introduce her to any
birds of his acquaintance and tell her where
they nested. He, however, seemed to be very

40 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

uncomfortable, and after hesitating a long time
said : —

"Mistress Tommy-Anne, the fact is I am not
very popular . with my tribe ; they suspect me of
sometimes meddling with their nests, and so keep
their secrets from me. One thing I do know,
however: to-morrow is an anniversary day in Bird-
land. *Be early in the meadow between the river
and wood, and you will see and hear enough, I
promise you. Be early, mind ! " And Tchin
(which was the Red Brother's name for him)
flew away silently enough, as he can when he
wishes.

" Aren't you ashamed of yourself now ? " said
Tommy-Anne to Rattle.

"Not a bit, not a bit! Somebody stole my nuts,"
he blustered.

" You were both wrong," she continued; " for you
could not prove what you said ; and by the way,
pray why are you eating those apple blossoms ? "

" I need variety, missy, the same as the House
People. Nuts, are my meat, but sometimes I like
a fresh egg or a flower salad." And he continued
munching the fleshy base of the blossoms that
would some day have grown into apples.

" For shame ! Rattle, I shall make you move
away if you act so. Father will not let any one

HOW THE GRASS GREW 41

rob nests or hurt anything on his land ; do you
hear, sir ? "

" Look at Waddles ! look at Waddles ! " cried
Rattle, half in surprise and half to divert atten-
tion from himself.

Indeed, Waddles seemed to be very sad and
quite spent. He was coming up the slope pain-
fully and completely out of v breath, his tongue
hanging out, his head
down. Great bunches of
burdock seeds fringed his
tail, making it look like a
bit of frayed rope, while his
usually smooth white coat was
rough and muddy, and his black and tan ears
gray with dust.

Tomrny-Anne ran to meet him, half sorry and
half inclined to scold. " Was the ham bone
good ? " she asked. " Eating it seems to have
been very hard work. Or perhaps you have
been burying it in a safer place out of the cat's
reach. You know Tiger can dig very deep, and
her claws are very sharp."

" I didn't eat the ham," gasped Waddles, be-
tween his pantings. " Tiger has it ; she is a
terrible cat, almost as big as a cow, and her
claws are as long as pitchforks." Here he lifted

42 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

his lovely little face to show deep scratches on
his nose.

" You poor dear ! " moaned Tommy-Anne, hug-
ging him. " I'm sorry for your nose ; but the next
time you won't steal ham and have to hide it in
an out-of-the-way place for Tiger's benefit, will
you?

" Think," said she ; " I have heard part of a
secret since you have been away, and I can't
know the whole of it until to-morrow. Tchin,
the Jay, said, ' Be in the meadow between the
river and the woods very early S

" Remember, Waddles ! very early ! Oh, what
if it should rain ! "

Boom ! boom ! sounded the dinner gong down at
the house. Waddles brightened up and cocked
his ears so suddenly that Tommy-Anne laughed
outright, and said mockingly: "So you wish
some dinner ; I thought that perhaps you would
rather stay here and wait for Tiger to bring the
ham bone back.

" No, you would rather come with me ? Then
wash your face and make yourself a bit tidy."

The dog began obediently to lick his paw and
make a sponge of it to clean his smutty nose.

Boom ! bang ! but this time the sound was
followed by a clear, melodious whistle.

HOW THE GRASS GREW

43

" Hurry, Waddles ; don't prink any more ; don't
you hear the whistle? Father and mother have
come home early ; now there may be pudding and
cake for dinner." She answered the call with a
shrill yoh-yoh-yoh cry, that was a combination of
Screech Owl and Indian war-whoop, — a sound that
had been very useful to her more than once when
she was lost in the far-away woods, — and then
hurried to the house, turning Tchin's words " To-
morrow early " into a merry song.

Ill

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE

THE Robin's nest was in the apple tree, so that
he was near at hand when his name was called.
He had rather an awkward manner, and his speak-
ing voice was harsh in comparison to his singing,
and he seemed embarrassed also at having to talk
to so large a company, and at a loss where to
begin.

Tommy- Anne quickly put him at his ease by
exclaiming : . " You dear fat thing ! I'm always
so glad to see you, for you are one of my cheer-
ful birds, you know."

" Am I really," said the Robin, looking pleased ;
"but what are your cheerful birds?" And all
the others seemed anxious to know.

44

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 45

Tommy-Anne, feeling rather shy at having to
explain herself in company, hesitated a little and
then said : " You see last winter was the first
snow season that I had been here, and I was
rather lonely, because I had not made all the
friends that I have now. I saw strange birds in
the trees and strange footprints in the snow, but
before I could learn the birds' names they were
gone, and the tracks in the snow were drifted over
before I could follow them.

" But I knew you, Mr. Robin, and the Chicka-
dee, the Song-Sparrow and the Bluebird, and after
a little, I guessed the Goldfinch (though he had
shed his yellow feathers), because he always flies
the same way, with a little dip as if he meant
to drop, and then jerks up again as if he had
changed his mind at the last minute. So when-
ever I saw any one of you five darlings, I used to
say : ' Brace up, Waddles ; if those little birds
can be cheerful outside there, without any fire, I
think we can be cheerful too.' '

" I wasn't gloomy," protested Waddles ; " there
are lots of things to chase in winter, and the trails
don't mix up as they do now, and you very seldom
bothered me by following."

" Be quiet and don't interrupt, sir. So when
father saw any of you in the evergreens, or pick-

46 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

ing up the seed we scattered for you at the door,
he always called, c Come and look, little daughter ;
here are some of your cheerful birds ! ' ".

At this Mr. Robin grew very friendly and
spoke quite at his ease. "I'm a popular bird,"
he said, "though I could never understand ex-
actly why."

"Neither could I," said the Thrasher, jealously.
" I'm much better looking and I have a stronger
voice and lots more style. Some things go by
contraries, and popularity is one of them."

" Order ! order ! I am surprised at you," said
the Song-Sparrow.

" I think in the beginning," continued the
Robin, placidly, " the reason the House People
liked me was because I was somehow confused
with my English relative Robin Redbreast, who
is famous in history for having so kindly fur-
nished a leaf quilt to the poor Babes in the
Wood ; and who, later on, was the victim of the
tragedy whose anniversary we are celebrating.
Now my cousin Robin Redbreast had the ad-
vantage of me in personal beauty, as his children
have to this day, being smaller, sleeker, brighter
in colour, in shape more like Owaissa, the Blue-
bird.

" I have tried to look up the early history of

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 47

our family, but like many such things the rec-
ords may be read in several ways, and I am
indebted to Wawa, whose ancestors were present
in great numbers at the time, for the following
information.

"The Red Brothers were fond of us, holding
us birds of love and good omen, and they pro-
tected us, giving us the name of Opechee. When
the first House People came to these parts after
their hardships on the rocky shore and barren
beaches, they found us here in vast flocks, and
seeing that we were confiding and that our breast
colour was somewhat like, they called us Robin,
after the Robin Redbreast of their home gardens.

" Another reason for my popularity is, that
while I am not very clever, or quick to see things,
I am good-tempered, and never, even under the
greatest temptation, suck eggs, or show resent-
ment if other birds build near my nest. And as
I appear a trifle stupid, very little is expected of
me, and so when I sing my best, every one marvels.

" Finally, I am not particular about my food.
Of course I prefer nice juicy worms and bugs,
with a fruit dessert, but I can live on almost
anything, keeping up a brave heart in winter,
on a frugal dish of frozen honeysuckle berries.
Thus some members of my family are with you

48 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

at all seasons, when most of the Song Birds have
been forced away by hunger ; so it is true that
we are one of those that the House Child calls
4 the cheerful birds,' one of the few who, nesting
nearby, linger to give some scraps of summer
melody to cheerless days.

" My grandparents were an old-fashioned, stay-
at-home couple. They lived down in the village,
in the Parson's garden. This garden has always
been thought a very comfortable home for our
family, and especially so when the old man and
his daughter lived there.

"When his neighbours said, 'Why not set traps
or spread nets to catch the birds that eat your
fruit,' he answered, 'These birds work with me
in the garden, keeping away the slug and worm,
while their sweet music gladdens my heart ; why
should they not have wages? Let them take
their tithes.'"

" Were you with the flock that sat all huddled
together in the pines, the day in March, when the
last snow fell, and the sun melted it away in an
hour ? " asked Tommy-Anne.

" Yes, that was our flock ; we were all strong,
newly moulted males, some old, some the young
of last year. For several months we had been
living many miles west of here, in the great ever-

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 49

green swamps, with the flocks of crested Cedar
birds and Blue Jays.

44 Shawondasee came creeping into our retreat,
saying: 4 Gheezis turns in his course to-day and
faces summerward. I go northward to prepare a
garden ; will you not keep me company ? '

44 So we followed him ; but when we reached this
orchard after our long flight, our hearts grew
heavy, for Peboan was still here, and his breath
hung heavily on everything, so we huddled in the
pines for shelter, chiding Shawondasee for de-
ceiving us. But he answered only one word —
Wait!

44 While we waited, you came out, and that House
Fourfoot, Waddles, ran before you, showing you
where we were hidden. This made us sadder yet,
for we said, 4 If Fourfoot can see us so easily in
the pines, how can we hope to hide ourselves in
nesting-time ? '

44 Then Gheezis pushed through the clouds, put-
ting Kabibonokka to flight, loosened Peboan's
grasp, and we began calling to each other, while
Ovvaissa, the Bluebird, peeped into his house box
under the eaves to see if all was in order for the
few straws he calls his nest. After that our
anxious season came quickly. We are often very
unfortunate with our nests. They are made of

50 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

sticks and grass plastered and lined with clay,
you know, the commonest kind that you see.
For some strange reason we have partly for-
gotten the law that Heart of Nature gave us for
the hiding of our nests, or the exact spot where it
is best to place them. So you will find them
everywhere, in bushes near the ground, and in
tall treetops.

" This year I have had very poor luck," sighed
the Robin. " My mate is a young bird, and it was
her first experience in housekeeping. Her family
lived in the Miller's grape arbour, so to please her
we located our first nest there. We were rather
hurried in building, owing to some heavy rain-
storms, and we did not realize, until the nest was
done and one green-blue egg laid, that we had
chosen an open place where no vine leaves would
grow to shelter our young.

" That same afternoon, as I was returning home,
I chanced to look ahead. There, stalking through
the grass toward the nest, was Tiger, the Miller's
cat ! To me- she seemed as big and savage as
Rufus Lynx, the mountain wild cat."

(" I quite agree with you," growled Waddles,
under his breath.)

" He lashed his tail and lifted his paws so care-
fully that the grass did not even suspect his com-

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 51

ing, then crouched to spring. For a wonder I
called, 4 Quick ! quick ! ' at the right moment, and
my mate immediately flew to me without looking
behind her. At the same time Tiger made a
leap, dragging the nest to the ground and break-
ing the egg.

" We next tried your garden, for Johnny Wren
told us that the House People who lived there did
not keep cats, but only a bandy-legged Fourfoot,
who was so short and fat that he could not reach
up far, even to look into a nest."

" Who ? What ? " barked Waddles, jumping up,
" Did Johnny Wren say that ? We won't let him
perch on our clothes poles to sing, any more, will
we, mistress ? "

"I didn't mention names," the Robin hastened
to say, "though if ever you look at yourself in the
pond, you must see that you are both bandy and
very fat ! " And then the Robin could not under-
stand why he had only made matters worse by
the explanation.

" We built the second nest on the end of a
well-protected pine branch. That night a soak-
ing rain drenched it through and through, making
it into a mud pie. The branch was too slender,
and the wet nest weighed it down, and then
dropped to the ground. Now we have a firm

52

STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

lodging in this tree, and to-morrow our four
eggs will be birds, we hope. My wife has been
very 'anxious all day 011 account of the noise of
the anniversary, but I said, 4 Stay still, my dear,
and keep your temper, and I will attend to
everything.' You can
see the tip of her beak
and the end of her tail
from here, if you
look up."

" How lovely ! "
said Tommy-Anne.
" May I come to-mor-
row and see your chil-
dren hop out of the eggs

44 You could come, of course,
but I would much prefer that
you should wait a bit. Our
children do not hop out of the eggs ; they are
quite top-heavy and helpless, — all eyes and
mouth. It makes us very nervous, clearing away
the shells and all that, without having any one
to watch us. I'm afraid if you came you might
make us upset ourselves again."

44 What do your children look like when they
are young? Are they all soft and downy like
my little chickens and ducklings?"

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE

53

" Oh no, Tommy- Anne ; our young are naked,
and their great round eyes are tightly closed,
and it is several weeks before they are fully
feathered and fit to fly."

How very funny ! I saw
some little Sea Gulls

last sum-
mer, when
we were at the
shore, and father JBW took me sailing to

the great island; * »W ^f and they could
walk down to the water's edge

and find food as soon as they were hatched. In
fact, the eggs lay on the sand without hardly
any nest for the poor things to stay in if they
wished."

"Heart of Nature has arranged it so that the

54 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

birds whose parents build poor nests, or none at
all, gain the feathers in the egg, but those of us
who belong to the Brotherhood of Builders are
able to give our young warm lodgings, so they
are hatched naked and helpless, and gain their
strength and feathers in the nest."

" What is the Brotherhood of Builders ? " asked
Tommy-Anne.

" The history of it is the Oriole's story, and
I have not finished my own yet. To-morrow
when those eggs are hatched I shall be able to
go to my club, and in a few days all the members
will have gathered again."

" Your club ? Do birds have clubs ? "

" Certainly they do. Our club house is in
the belt of old cedar trees between your house
and the road."

" Why do you go there when the little birds
are hatched ? I should think you would have to
stay at home and help feed them."

" I do stay at home all day, but mother Robins
always insist upon putting their babies to sleep
themselves ; they say we men are in the way.
Then we meet together, the males of each com-
munity, or flock, by themselves, and choosing some
thick trees for shelter, we make a musical club,
gathering at dusk to sing our evensong, and

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 55

breaking up after matins, each one returning to
his family.

" By and by when the first brood leave the
nest, we take them to roost with us at the club,
leaving their mothers free to tend the second
brood, and when the nesting is over, we all rove
together in great flocks, keeping away until
the summer moult is over, but coming to your
lawn again before the Moon of Falling Leaves."

"Please, what family do you belong to?"

"We are of the Silver-tongued, — the family
of Thrushes."

" Thrushes? You do not look like the other
Thrushes that I know," said Tommy-Anne. "The
Wood Thrush that sings every afternoon, beyond
the garden, has a brown back and a speckled breast,
and the Echo Thrush, in the river woods, is tawny
on the back and is marked with little arrow spots
under his chin. Your back is dark, and your
breast is the same colour as flower pots, and
then you sing differently too. Every Robin has
a song of his own, but the Thrushes have each
one tune that they all keep repeating."

" It is true that our colour is different from our
brothers, but so is that of Owaissa, who is also of
our family. We sing strange songs, truly, each
one telling his story in his own words, and no one

56 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

of the House People understanding it, or you
would know why our breasts are ruddy and have
lost their spots. The reason of this lies in the
farback, and even the legend of it is so old that
the wisest of the White-headed Eagles, who told
it to me, did not know when it first was shaped
to words."

"Please tell us the legend," urged Tommy-
Anne, glancing appealingly toward the Song-
Sparrow, who, seeing that Gheezis was looking
at the earth slantwise, said : " There really is
not time — unless perhaps the Kingbird would
be willing to wait and tell his story when the
birds of the air meet for their flying practice."

"I would much rather wait," replied the King-
bird, " for then I shall have more to tell. Beside,
I'm belated now, my nest is not finished, and it
must be done to-night, as I have promised sev-
eral friends to chase Crows for them to-morrow
morning."

"Chase Crows? What have the Crows been
doing ? "

"The same as usual, the cowards! Sneaking
into Robins' nests and sucking the eggs, stealing
a young bird here, another there. But it was
not for nothing that the Red Brothers called me
the Sachem. Ondaig flies in terror, covering his

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 57

eyes as best he may, when two or three of us are
abroad. You too, friend Tchin, you are not
above bird-nesting." And he made a rapid pass
at the Blue Jay, who screamed with surprise.

" Now you will have plenty of time for your
story," said Tommy-Anne to the Robin, drop-
ping from her branch to the ground.

" Once upon a time — " began the Robin.

Tommy-Anne chuckled contentedly, pulling
Waddles over, until his head rested upon her
lap. " All nice comfortable stories begin ' Once
upon a time,' " she said.

"Once upon a time," continued the Robin, not
heeding the interruption, "before the old trees
had been cut in the forests, and the wild animals
roamed among them ; when the Panther, the
Wolf, and the Moose were in plenty, and the
great Black Bears picked the wild-grape clusters,
and robbed A-moe, the Honey Bee, of the pack-
ages of sweets that he had hidden in tree hol-
lows ; before the House People came over the salt
water to teach the Red Brothers to break faith
with Heart of Nature, and kill the Wild Wood
Brethren for other purposes than food and cover-
ing ; on the top of Wild Cat Mountain, in his
skin-covered wigwam, lived Kaniwa, the Chief
of his tribe, and his only child Wenonah.

58 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" Wenonah had grown up in this place alone
with her father ; for her mother had disappeared
one spring night when Wenonah was a babe.
Stolen by wild beasts some thought, but others
shook their heads, saying that she was the daugh-
ter of Weeng, the Spirit of Sleep, who had come
before day-dawn and carried her away ; but from
that day Kaniwa's wigwam was lonely.

"Wenonah left the wigwam reluctantly and
returned eagerly. She loved Heart of Nature
and the things he ruled, more than those things
belonging to the third ruler, Heart of Man."

(" Heart of Man ! that means people ; now I
know another why" whispered Tommy-Anne to
herself.)

"The beasts all loved Wenonah. The Wild
Cat smoothed his snarl into a smile, and carried
his furry cubs in his mouth to her that she might
caress them. The shiest Moose would kneel
before her to have his head rubbed. Chetowaik,
the Plover, every season brought for her eating
some of his most treasured eggs ; Subbe-ka-she,
the Spider, wove rare lace for her ; and Shi-sheeb,
the painted Wood Duck, moulted his gayest
feathers for her decking. The timorous Gray
Rabbits come forth in the moonlight, circling
about her and doing their dances and jumping

The timorous Cray Rabbits came forth in the moonlight. — p. 58.

59

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 61

tricks to please her ; while even the Bad One
crept silent and abashed from her path. So
the old women wagged their heads again and said,
'She is like her mother and not of us, some night
sho will vanish, before she is grown a woman.'

" Of all living things, she loved the birds the
boat, and among them we came first, and next to
us the Bluebirds. In the Moon of Leaves we
both flocked near her, as she pulled the blossoms
from the wild plum trees, or sought the pink and
white Miskodeed (the flower you call spring
beauty) in the meadow.

" In Moon of Strawberries we followed her
through all the woods as she made flower-gar-
lands and, giving them messages to her vanished
mother, threw them in the swift river.

" In Moon of Falling Leaves, when the women
ground samp, pounding it in a rock-bowl hollowed
on the cliff, we would surround her, lest unawares
she moved too near the edge.

"Early one summer, trouble entered Kaniwa's
heart. At noon, when he used to go abroad, the
old warrior sat at home, counting the notches
of his time-stick, an anxious look upon his
face."

" Please, what is a ' time-stick ? ' " asked Tommy-
Anne.

62 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" The Red Brothers counted the time l>y notches
on a stick, one cut for each snow season. When
twenty were cut, they laid the slick away and
began another, as in Birdland we count by the
nesting seasons.

" Wenonah saw that her father was sad, but
she kept on singing to A-moe and his work-people,
who were buzzing about the fragrant wild-grape
flowers. When she raised her voice, the bees flew
away in alarm, but when she dropped it to a mur-
muring like to their own speech, they crowded
about her, and the words that she sang were
these : —

" The poor little bee
That lives in the tree,
The poor little bee
That lives in the tree,
Has but one arrow in his quiver ! l

(: ' Fiftean snows have gone,' muttered the war-
rior ; 'what if the old wives say truly, and my
child should leave me ? '

" Wenonah heard the words and started, a wild
look coming into her eyes, but she quickly grew
calm and laughed merrily to comfort him.

" 4 Why do you laugh, my daughter ? '

1 Kaniga nursery rhyme.

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 63

" ' I laugh with my brother, Shawondasee, the
South Wind,' said Wenonah, letting her long
black hair float out on his breath as he hurried
past.

" But when the Moon of Snow-Shoes came again,
and Kaniwa cut a new notch on his stick, the six-
teenth since her birth, he grew anxious, and once
more she laughed wildly, stroking her tent com-
panion, a Gray Squirrel, and answering her father
gaily, 4 1 laugh at Mahng, the Loon ; do you not
hear him wailing down by the watercourse?'

" Still, again, her father was satisfied ; but when
Segwun, the Spring, gladdened the land, Wenonah
gathered us the closer, stroked our feathers, whis-
pering, 4 Do not fail me, dear brothers ! Little
brothers, you will not fail me ? ' And though
not knowing what she meant, we promised.

" One night when we were roosting in the
trees, a shadow came among us. It was We-
nonah, and she called, 4 Brothers ! Brothers ! The
time has come ! I need you. Wait by the wig-
wam when the darkness thins, at the hour when
night and morning wrestle for the owning of the
heavens ; and be silent ! '

" So we gathered noiselessly, as the night went
on. Wawonaissa, the Whip-poor-will, cried, and
then ceased, and long the Marsh Frogs peeped,

64 STO1UES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

before a glow spread upward from the earth's
edge to where the Morning Star blazed.

" Out from the tent curtains stepped Wenonah,
her filmy garments hanging about her like the
petals of the wind-flower, but her face shone like
the Star she gazed at. We were frightened, but
she spoke lightly to us : 4 1 go to my mother
beyond the Morning Star ; come thou part way
with me, that my flight may be unseen.'

"Stooping, she took some earth and rubbed a
little on the breast of each one of us, saying :
'This is in token that you shall return again in
safety to earth.' With that, she stepped from
the cliff, Shawondasee bearing her aloft, as our
wings bear us, and surrounding her we flew
eastward.

" Always it grew lighter, and we felt the breath
of Gheezis hot upon our breasts, and the moist
earth upon them burned red in colour like brick-
clay. Seeing this, Wenonah, turning, said, 4 You
must leave me now, returning earthward.'

"'No, we will follow you,' we cried, all the
warm-hearted Bluebirds beginning to weep sadly.

"'You may not follow where I go, for the
speech of that country is unknown to you.
Return, my brothers ! '

" ' A token ! give us a token ! ' we cried.

THE LEGEND OF OPECHEE 65

" Still looking at us, she saw the reddening of
our breasts, and said, 'Forget your stripes and
spots, my Robins, and wear forever on your faith-
ful breasts the earth-colour, reddened in my ser-
vice by the touch of morning !

" ' And you, my Bluebirds, sweethearts, carry
on your shoulders the blue sky of my new home to
be the spring sign of your Earth Mother.' And
she gently rubbed the rusty edges from their
feathers until they were bright blue.

" Once more she said, 4 Return, my brothers,'
and then we no longer saw her, and we obeyed.

"When we reached the mountain, it was full
morning, and there was a sound of weeping about
the wigwam, and within lay a shape they called
Wenonah, and they said, 4 She is dead ! '

"But we knew better.

" To this day we have kept our ruddy breasts,
and Owaissa his blue back and sad note ; and if
our young show, at first, some of the old-time
stripes, they quickly moult away."

When the Robin ended, all the birds remained
silent and seemed deeply impressed. But the
story of his ancestors did not trouble Mr. Robin
or make him sad, and after giving his listeners a
little bobbing bow, he was soon on the ground,
trying to jerk out an earthworm, that was twice

66

STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

his own length, and held itself down as firmly as
if possessed of six feet and a dozen pairs of hands.

0

T

^R

f
&

IV

ASPETUCK

THE Moon of Strawberries, the month
that House People call June, began on
the selfsame Saturday that Tommy- Anne
and Obi went to find the Wood Duck's
nest. Waddles was better, and though
rather weak in the legs, he was very
much disappointed when his mistress
flatly refused to take him on the long
walk.

" We are going a great way up the
river ; there will be rocks and bushes
in the way; and you would be sure to
get your feet sopping wet, Waddlekins
dear," said Tommy- Anne ; " so you see
that you are better off at home."

67

68 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

"/see very plainly, mistress, that you are going
hunting, and it is for something that you don't
wish me to see." And Waddles put on his sad-
dest expression. But it was of no use; the door
of the woodhouse closed, and his feelings were
doubly injured by hearing the key turned. Then
Tommy-Anne's feet went patter, patter down the
road as she ran to join Obi, who had been waiting
for her by the turnpike bridge for some time.

"Do not run so fast, little daughter," called
her father, from the study window ; " you have
plenty of time. Obi has earned a whole holiday,
and your mother has given him a basket of lunch-
eon for you both."

Tommy- Anne instantly rushed to the window,
and threw handf uls of kisses, calling, " You dear,
dear father-mother ! "

She had often used this term, when she spoke
of her father and mother at the same time, ever
since one day, when she was a very small child,
some foolish person had asked her which she
loved best, her father or her mother ; when she
answered indignantly, "Which? they aren't a
which ; father-mother is the same person ! "

" See the tadpoles," said Obi, who was kneeling
by the pool above the bridge, and watching some

ASPETUCK 69

little dusky shapes that darted through the water.
"Their legs have sprouted, but their tails haven't
gone yet."

" What are tadpoles ? " asked Tommy- Anne,
also kneeling, and looking at the queer things
with oblong bodies, and narrow finny tails, while
two arms seemed to be budding out in front, and
two legs behind.

" Tads are young frogs ; it is the way they look
a little while after they are hatched. The frogs'
eggs are hung on the leaves of water-plants,
and when the eggs are first hatched they seem
like leaves themselves ; then they begin to float
about in the water, growing all the time and
changing. Tails sprout, and then legs ; and as
the legs grow bigger, the tail grows smaller,
until it all turns into legs, and the tad is a frog,
ready to hop."

" Oh yes ! and then they hop over to the swamp,
and cry, 4 Bree-r ! Bree-r ! ' all night long."

" Not this kind ; those are tree-frogs, but these
are children of the big bull-frogs that live in
ponds."

"Dahinda's children. He is ugly and fat, but
these children are positively silly," said Tommy-
Anne, as one came to the surface and took a long
breath, which she mistook for a yawn. " Do

70 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

tadpoles ever swallow themselves ? " she asked,
wondering at the size of its mouth.

"Now, Tommy-Anne, suppose you think a
minute ; how could they ! If they swallowed
themselves, where would they be swallowed
into?"

Of course she could not tell, and Obi continued
to laugh at her as they wandered up the river,
peering in the rocky crevices and poking into
holes with their sticks.

" See that bit of wood, underneath this stump
in the deep pool," said Tommy-Anne. " It keeps
close to the bottom ; why doesn't it float ? "

Obi looked a minute, and then lay down flat on
his stomach, motioning for her to keep very still.
" It isn't a stick, it's a big pickerel," he whispered ;
"but it wants the little perch to think that it
is a stick, and come near enough to be eaten.
Watch out now ! "

Two of these careless fish were swimming
lazily down stream, gaping and gazing idly from
side to side.-- A flash and a snap ! The surface
of the water eddied, and one of the little fishes
was in the mysterious inside of Mr. Pickerel,
who steadied himself by two or three motions
of his tail, and pointed his nose to the bank,
silently as before.

ASPETUCK 71

** What a biter that pickerel is ! " exclaimed
Tommy-Anne.

" Biter? I should say he was. Look a-here ! "
Obi showed some round white scars that made
a line across the ends of his left hand fingers.
"One of those fellows did that to me, way back
in the spring. I hooked him for keeps, and he
thought the smartest thing he could do would
be to swallow me, so he began with those fingers."

" It is lovely, here by the water," said Tommy-
Anne, after a few minutes, drawing a long breath
of contentment; "everything is so new and
green ; and there are simply acres of ferns in
there. Do look yonder ; they climb up hill as
far as we can see ! "

" Yes, the ferns are bully ! " said Obi, approv-
ingly ; " but we are after the Duck's nest, and
when you come to the woods, if you don't find
what you started after first, the other things will
make you forget all about it. I'll tell you what
we can do. Suppose I take the lunch basket and
find the easiest way to the Duck's tree and come
back for you. I generally go round the other way
by the foot of the mountain, but that is a rough
place, and I am not pop sure where we strike it
from this side."

72 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" That will be very nice," said Tommy-Anne,
"for there are plenty of things for me to look
at here." She was very glad to be left alone,
for there were several questions that she wished
to ask the river, but did not care to have Obi
see that she could, or have him know about the
Magic Spectacles, for they were a secret between
Heart of Nature and herself.

" Who are you ? " she asked, trailing her fingers
lightly through the water, which answered her
touch like a live thing.

" I am your Water Brother ; without me you
could not live," it answered softly, humming a
little tune as it tumbled over the pebbles, then
growing silent as it neared the Pickerel's pool.

"Next to Light, which is the twin brother of
Heat, I am the oldest thing in the world. Heart
of God fashioned us three from his own being and
then making the Plan, gave it to Heart of Nature
to work out, saying: —

" 4 Here are the beginnings that I have created ;
follow now my plan through the long timeless
days that I give you for its development. Go
upward, little by little ; from shapelessness to
form, from the grass to the tree, from the creep-
ing reptile to the great beasts; but pause thou
there, for to complete my share I will create

ASPETUCK 73

anew and stamp the animal who is to be the
ruler of this globe of mine with my own coin-
age. He shall be called Heart of Man, and,
though the youngest thing of all, he shall be the
bond betwixt thee and me, for two natures shall
be in him, — mine and thine.

" ' Born shall he be according to thy laws,
O Heart of Nature, my servant, and die, seem-
ingly, after thy way ; but he wears my image
as a spark within him, and when he dies, only
your part returns to you, — my part, my coin-
age, returns to me, its Home. And thus my
seal-mark separates him from all other animals,
for this seal-mark is the Soul ! '

"Then we three forces began to work, with
Heart of Nature as interpreter of the Plan, and
finally, when Heart of Man came, time, came
with him, and he set his measurements and
said, 'I will divide off spaces for convenience'
sake ; so much time shall be a day, a month, a
year.' But before man all was the Eternity of
Heart of God. Simple as all this is, House
People will make things hard to understand, be-
cause they ignore the Plan, and measure every-
thing from their own end and test by their own
plan, instead of Heart of God's.

74 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" Still through it all I am your Water Brother ;
I am here, there, everywhere, — in the rain clouds,
in the rainbow that follows them; I am the sea
itself, holding the earth in my embrace ; I am
in the tree blood and iri your own blood, flowing,
always flowing, and I am the emblem of the life
that shall be."

There was not a sound for a moment ; the river
and Tommy-Anne each waited for the other to
speak, then the river broke the stillness.

" I cannot keep quiet long when I come in this
shape," he laughed; "for here, I am only a bab-
bling bit of a Water Brother, and though I never
forget my origin and history, my work now is with
small things. Here, I am a very tattler and a
tell-tale. I am a bearer of trivial news, carrying
messages from my birthplace, all the way down
to the last water gate, where the salt enters my
veins.

" So I wander along, giving drink to the Fox
and Coon, a bath to the Hawk and Hummingbird
alike ; turning the wheel for the Miller, making
pools for the big fish and sweeping the little ones
into my shallows where their enemies may not
follow. Everything brings me news, which I re-
peat to the Wind if there is no one else near to

ASPETUCK 75

listen. Tell-tale, tell-tale, the pebbles make me
call ; the pebbles that are the rock fragments I
have polished for my bed.

" Listen ! as I pass the stony places you can
hear me singing tell-tale, tell-tale, for days to-
gether; but though I am a gossip, I am wise enough
never to tell all that I know, for some things be-
long to Silence ! "

" Yes," answered Tommy- Anne ; " I can under-
stand what you are singing now, but all the spring
you have been roaring and scolding so, that I
could not make out a single word."

" I am not answerable for what I do in the
spring," said the river, shrugging his shoulders
until they were covered with foam ; " in the spring
I am really not quite myself. A lot of strange
snow water comes racing down the hills into my
course, and I grow quite mixed up and I know
that I misbehave ; I always do. Only last month,
there was such a crowd of water tramps, all from
different places, trying to go to the sea by my
roadway, that we lifted the old turnpike bridge
on our shoulders and set it down again, above the
pond in the Miller's meadow.

" Then, when we heard that the road-menders
were coming to try and take it back again, we
rushed down that night and gave the old thing a

76 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

shaking that scattered its ribs along the banks and
sent its backbone into the sluice-way, nearly chok-
ing the mill to death. It was such fun ! "

" What made you do that ? I should call it
mischief, not fun."

" No, it was fun, and like fun usually, it had
wisdom at the bottom of it. The turnpike needed
a new bridge, for I could see the sun through the
great holes in it. Last summer Gheezis said to
me, ' I will do all I can to dry this bridge ; do you
tell the rains to hurry and rust the nails so that
they will fall out, and then you can wash it away,
for it is no longer safe.' '

" That is true," said Tommy- Anne ; " our horse
put his foot through one of the holes and father
spoke to the Selectmen about it, but they only put
on a worn old board for a patch. I think you are a
very clever little river. Please have you any name? "

" Aspetuck is my name here ; the Red Brothers
gave it to me, and it means that I come from a
height. In fact, for the first three miles of my
life I do nothing but run down hill, stopping
every now and then in some little corner to get
my breath."

" How did you begin ? Were you a brook or
a pond, or did you rain down suddenly and run
along ? "

ASPETUCK 77

"My beginnings were smaller than either of
these. I was only a moist spot, on the top of a
hill, a bit 'of grass touched by the Water Spirit.
Around me were other moist places which, like
myself, could not move, and when the sun shone
on us, we grew less and less. I heard the trees
rustle and the notes of the birds, but I did not
understand them, and they could not see me.
The grass that grew about me was a little greener
because of my presence, and the small ferns sucked
my moisture greedily, but that was all.

" One day the earth, by heating and cooling,
added a few more drops to me, then rain fell and
gave me new vigour, when the sun burst out again
I leaped to meet it, and, without knowing how,
I escaped down the hillside.

" Life, motion, how delicious they were ! Pres-
ently a Song-Sparrow who had been singing in
the open field came and bathed in me, spatter-
ing my drops far and wide. It was an anxious
moment; for, thought I, if he uses up too
much of me, there will not be enough to go
onward.

" This danger passed, I ran along until I
reached some trees, and I wondered how I could
ever climb over their high roots. 4 Avoid them,'
said Heart of Nature ; ' go between, and remem-

78 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

ber, little brook, your happiness will depend
greatly upon knowing what to avoid.'

"Then the Birth Spirits thronged about me,
offering their gifts. The meadows promised me
free passage through the fields and lowlands, with
beds of moss, bordered with Iris, and a gay escort
of flowers all through the season. For lancers,
it would give the stately spiked
Arums, with boughs of
White Thorn and Shad
Bush for flags of truce,
and early Marsh-mari-
golds for heralds.
Tree Frogs should
be the fifers, and
Dahinda, the great
mottled Bull Frog,
the drummer, and
the fluting Meadowlark
and madcap Bobolink the minstrels.

" Heart of Nature said, ' These are beautiful
things, and they have their places ; but remember
also to bear with you, as you flow, all tha un-
cleanness that would make my garden foul, for
to wash away and purify is one of the duties
of water.'

" The Spirit of the Woods was the Birth Spirit

ASPETUCK 79

that I loved the best. It wore the shape of
sweeping Hemlocks, who guided me between the
jutting rocks and swayed as they bent above,
crooning my cradle song. Many stories they
told me, and legends that they only speak be-
tween themselves, when they twist and threaten,
defying all the winds, even Kabibonokka himself.
When I slipped from their arms, they moaned
and cried, 4Do not forget us when you are a
river ! Do not forget those who rocked your
cradle ! ' I promised, but when I saw them next,
alas ! I was filled with sorrow.

"But then I was full of pride. Humph, I
thought, ' when you are a river V What am I now,
pray, but a river? And I fretted at the tall
grasses that would not move for me, until I was
all afoam and thought that an oak leaf that fell
on me was one of the ships that the Hemlocks
talked about. In hurrying around the corner of
a rock, I met half a dozen other streams like my-
self, who said they were travelling together until
they should become a river; and as I could not
turn back, I joined them, but feeling quite dis-
couraged to find how small I really was.

" Heart of Nature whispered, 4 Do not be dis-
couraged ; no one thing in the Plan is anything of
itself but depends always upon some other thing.7

80 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

And I knew that he was right. What was one
drop of water ? Yet the river and the ocean are
only a great many such drops.

"' Brotherhood,' said Heart of Nature, 'that is
the password.'

"After that I understood everything that I
heard and saw. At the shallow places the birds
bathed and chattered, and I heard a Flycatcher
complain that the snakes shed their skins in such
thorny places that he could not pull them out for
nest-building."

"Why do snakes shed their skins? and are
they not very naked without them?"

"They shed them when they are shabby and
old, just as the birds moult their feathers, only
under the old skin is a bright new one, and all
they have to do is to crawl out of the old one
through the mouth hole, and there they are in
a fresh dress, leaving the old rag in the bushes
behind them.

"When I came along between shady banks,
I heard a great many complaints from growing
things, who wished me to ask justice for them.
The Ferns complained because they had no pretty,
easy names, such as flowers bear, to keep them in
the remembrance of House People."

"Ferns are only ferns," said Tommy- Anne.

ASPETUCK 81

" Why do they need names ? Some are large, and
some small ; but they are very much alike, except
the Maidenhair, and that has a name already."

"There it is again ; you are like all the rest,"
sighed a tall, handsome Brake, bending over
Tommy-Anne's shoulder. " We are as unlike
each other as any two flowers in your garden ;
and though we have no showy blossoms, we
hold the little seed lunch baskets on the backs
of our leaves, or on stalks by themselves. We
carpet the forest, and, with our cousins, the
mosses, cover the rocks ; but even the Red
Brothers neglected to name us, and we have
lost hope."

"I will tell Obi about you, — that may do
some good," said Tommy- Anne ; " for he is go-
ing to be a wise man and learn everything about
wild things, and perhaps some day he will think
of some easy names for you. I wonder if he has
found the Duck's nest yet," said Tommy-Anne,
turning to Aspetuck.

" Yes, he has found it ; but it is two miles
above here, and it is on the other side of the
river. He has crossed the stepping-stones, and
is half-way back already."

" Do you know about everything that happens
along your banks?"

82 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

41 Everything. At this moment, above the
third bridge, some cows are wading across ; at
the mill farm they are washing cans ; they should
not wash milk cans in me — I carry off too much
wastage to be fit for that. By the second
bridge, in the deep hole, some little boys are
swimming. They will soon have bad cramps,
for the chill of the snow has not yet wholly
left me. A pair of water-snakes have fallen
from a grape-vine quite near where you are
sitting, and swim down stream. No ! do not
start, for they are harmless, even if they are
quarrelsome and wear ugly grizzled coats.

" Hark ! one thing more is happening ! " said
Aspetuck. "They are sawing wood at the up-
per mill. How well I remember the day that I
learned for the first time what this mill was,
and found that I must turn the wheel that rent
my old friends, the Hemlocks, into boards. There
they lay, barkless, on the bank. This was my
first grief ! Good-bye, Tommy-Anne ; I must
hurry down -to the grist mill, to grind some
corn that is wanted for your cows, and after
that I have to sow seed along my banks.

" Do I sow seed ? Yes, that I do ; the winds,
the birds, and I sow more than any other hus-
bandmen in Nature's garden. We may not plant

ASPETUCK 83

our crops in even drills and great fields, like
House People, but we are the makers of both
the Northern Forest arid the Southern Jungle.
You have geranium beds'1 on your lawn, and I
the beds of lilies in my ponds, — that is all the
difference."

" How is it, dear Aspetuck, that you go away
and yet you are still here ? "

" Ah ! you must ask that question of Wabeno,
the Magician. I am a mystery, — all the time
passing by, yet the whole of me is never any-
where, because part of me is everywhere," said
the river, laughing merrily at her wonderment.

Tommy- Anne listened for the sound of Obi's
footsteps, and, as she could not hear them, she
walked back a little way from the river, and
seated herself upon a stump. As she did so,
a tall, coarse weed beside her cried, "Don't
touch me ! I sting ! I am a Nettle ! "

" Ugh ! " said Tommy- Anne, drawing back. " I
am much obliged to you for telling me ; the only
nettles I know about are very much smaller than
you."

"I am the Wood-Nettle, and my cousin the
great Fence-Nettle is twice as big as I am, almost
as tall as a House Man. His prickles are not as

STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

sharp as mine, but he will make you smart if you
are heedless enough to fall from some tumble-
down fence into his clutches. But if you ever
do, remember to put some fresh earth on the spot,
and it will take the pain away."
Dry twigs crackled, and
in another minute Obi ap-
peared, in a state of elation,
for he had found
the Duck's nest,
and the Ducks were
hatched, and would
soon leave to go
down to water. He
was carrying a thick
snake that he had
killed, holding it
carefully by the
tip of its tail.

"Please drop that
horrid thing, Obi," screamed Tomn^-Anne.
"I'm sure it "is one of those wicked rattle-
snakes."

" Oh no, it isn't. I killed it on purpose to show
you the difference, so that you need not be afraid
of them ; for there are plenty of this kind here-
abouts. Don't shiver and shake so : it's stone

ASPETUCK 85

dead, even if it was a rattler. Come and look
at him."

Tommy-Anne, thus persuaded, drew nearer.
The first thing that she noticed was that the
snake's nose was blunt and horny ; then she saw
that the head was flat and thick, while its wide,
mottled brown body ended in a stumpy tail.

" What sort of a snake is it ? " she asked.

" A Hog-nose. Round here we mostly call them
blowing adders, 'cause when they are mad they
blow up their necks and hiss. They are lazy
things, they can't go very fast, and often play
dead to make people go away and let them alone,
rather than take the trouble to move."

44 Obi, are you perfectly sure it is a Hog-nose?"
asked Tommy-Anne, anxiously. She had pried
open its mouth with a stick, and found that it
had some large teeth that looked like fangs.

" You see that it has no pit-mark below its eyes,
as our poison snakes have. I'm going to keep
this snake and make a skelly of it, so that you
can see how its bones work, and its fangs and
all that."

" Then you had better hang it up in a tree, or
the Sexton Beetles may come and bury it for you."

"That is so," said Obi; " I guess I'll take it
with me, for some Owl might come by and grab

86 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

it out of the tree." And they hurried off, Obi
telling about the Ducks, who had chosen a new
nesting-place across the river, as a Cat Owl had
appropriated the old tree.

Such a pretty place as the Wood Ducks had
chosen for their home, — close by a pond, where
the river had been widened to feed a mill. The
old building, with its great wooden water-wheel,
was standing yet, on a mossy, stone foundation.
Everything about was mossy ; every crack held
a fern, and all the banks were covered with
laurels and blooming wild azaleas.

" See, I left the lunch basket here on this flat
rock ; it will make a jolly table," said Obi. " We
mustn't talk any more now, but only whisper.
The Duck's tree is round on the other side, and if
we go into the mill, we can look almost into the
nest from the window. Here, creep along this
beam, — so — the floor is very rotten, but I've
fixed a place by the window where we can
stand."

Yes, there were some bits of board, secured so
that the children could stand comfortably and
look through the twisted sash, and yet be per-
fectly hidden. The nest tree was a chestnut that
had lost many branches, and in the stump of one

ASPETTJCK 87

of them, nearly twenty feet from the ground,
there was a hollow, from which was sticking some
ends of grass and feathers.

"The nest is in there," said Obi, rather by
signs than words.

" No," signalled Tommy- Anne, " the place is
too small for a duck to live."

" She lives there, all the same," nodded Obi.

" How will she ever get the ducklings down ?
They will break their necks."

This time Obi only answered by putting his
finger to his lips, for then something happened.
A beautiful plump Duck (with a gray head and
neck, a small shining green crest, brown back,
and mottled gray breast) flew along, giving a
cry that sounded like peek-peek oe-eek ! and dis-
appeared in the hollow branch.

" Is that the father duck? "

44 No," whispered Obi ; " the father is twenty
times handsomer, — all red and purple and green,
with a long cockatoo on his head ; but he is a
selfish pig, and goes off as soon as the eggs are
laid; he doesn't like babies."

While they were whispering, half of a smooth
clay-coloured egg-shell rolled out of the hole,
and the mother appeared holding a downy duck-
ling in her beak. She climbed with her sharp

88 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

claws to the top of the branch, spread her wings
and dropped to the ground, left her burden at
the foot of the tree, and returned to the hole.

Nine times she flew down, bringing a duckling,
which she placed with its brothers and sisters.
On the tenth trip, as she left the hole, a second
nestling climbed on her back; but she reached
the ground successfully with her double load,
and once there, walked off to the pond, her brood
following her through the bushes and into the
water, as if they had done the same thing every
day for a month. In a moment some little noise
startled the family, and they dived and disap-
peared, probably going beyond the turn in the
pond.

" Is not that won-d-e-r-ful! " said Tommy-Anne,
lost in admiration.

" I'm going to look in the nest to see if there are
any eggs that didn't hatch," said Obi, " and then
we can have our dinner."

" Tale-to-tell, tale-to-tell ! " called Aspetuck
from below; "look at Waddles, on the rock!"

Tommy-Anne jumped up so quickly that she
almost fell through a hole in the floor, and
hurried out to where they had left the luncheon.
There sat Waddles by the basket, tired, muddy,
and very forlorn.

ASPETUCK 89

"How did you get out, you bad dog?" said
his mistress, stamping her foot.

" Dug a hole under the door," whined the cul-
prit ; " the earth told me the way as far as the
other side of the river, and then I saw the
basket." And he sniffed and looked unspeakable
things with his big brown eyes, now really heavy
arid sad. "It was very hard digging, mistress."

" Don't you know that you have been sick,
and that it cost the whole of one of father's
dollars to pay the Blacksmith for coming to
see you, and you will never be able to earn a
dollar?"

Waddles seemed crushed, and did not answer
except by wagging his tail.

Then Tommy-Anne simply had to laugh, he
looked so pitiful, and said, " Never mind for
this time, because I can't whip a sick dog, even
if he is bad. You shall have the top lid of my
sandwiches for your dinner, and perhaps Obi
will be kind enough to carry you home."

And Waddles was so meek, that he seemed
pleased with bread and butter, which he usually
scorned.

After dinner followed a great hunt for wild-
flowers, turtles, and tree-toads, and then the
question was how to get home. Obi had found

90 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

three eggs in the Duck's nest that would never
hatch; then there was the snake, the lunch basket,
a snake skin, a small snapping turtle that Tommy-
Anne had found, and Waddles, who was really
used up by his trip, his front and back legs going
in different directions when he tried to walk.

"Put the eggs in the basket with the snake
skin, tie a string to the tail of the Hog-nose, and
I will carry him too. Then you can put my
turtle in your pocket and carry Waddles; he will
be a big enough load for you."

" But I'm not as fat as I was" sighed Waddles,
as the procession started, looking over Obi's
shoulder and thinking it a great disgrace to be
carried. They marched home in single file, and
Tommy- Anne wondered why her parents laughed
so heartily when she stopped under the study
window to call, " We've come home, father-mother,
and we've had a spl-e-n-did time ! "

But when she went up stairs to make herself
neat for tea, she saw the reason. " Umph ! " she
said, " I look - just like a moulting chicken. "
Which was a fact ; for the heel was off one shoe,
half of her hat brim hung down in a loop, her hair
was full of twigs, and her blouse was torn across
the back.

"Never mind," she said, struggling with her

ASPETUCK

91

brush ; " my hair will-just-have-to-let-itself-be-
unsnarled, and to-day was worth my very best
gown, and this was only a very weakly blouse,
anyway." And as she toiled and struggled with
her tangled inane, she could hear her Water
Brother across the road singing to the pebbles.

THE FLOWER MARKET

IN these June days Tommy-Anne visited the
rose-bed every morning the first thing after break-
fast, and she watched the
buds so closely that Obi
said if she was not care-
ful she would look holes
through them. One
morning, however, a great
straggling bush, with small
dark green leaves, was com-
pletely covered with pale
yellow flowers, that opened
rather flatly, showing the
golden fringe at the heart.
Tommy-Anne ran to the bush in delight, and
buried her face in tlie nearest cluster, but drew
back even more quickly, her dear little pug nose
turning up with an injured expression as if it had
been cruelly cheated, as she said, "You will never

92

THE FLOWER MARKET 93

do for Ruby-throat's breakfast ; you smell a-w-
fully, and your thorns sting like nettles. Wouf ! "
And she shuddered and wiped the afflicted member
with a large red cotton handkerchief.

She preferred these handkerchiefs above any
other sort. In the first place, they did not lose
themselves easily, a matter of great importance;
then she could carry almost anything in them that
she could lift, — from eggs, fruit, and such like,
to mossy stones and clumps of ferns. They also
made admirable towels, when she had been fishing
with her hands for tadpoles or frogs, or wading
in the river, and lastly they made very effective
signal flags.

Next morning brought better luck. Jacque-
minot buds began to peep out from their cool
dark green leaves, and one great pink cabbage
rose had slipped its roundness from the five green
claws that held it in bud. Here was quite enough
for a bouquet.

Selfish Tommy- Anne ! Her father, who was
also watching the roses, came through the garden,
cut the pink beauty and its long stem with one
flash of his knife, and carried it indoors to her
mother. Of course the red roses would do, but
Ruby-throat might have felt more complimented
by the larger flower ; or he might have a choice

94 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

in roses, and prefer pink to crimson. Well, it
could not be helped.

Obi was coming through the fields towards the
garden ; he had something in his hand. " Was
it? Could it be?" thought Tommy- Anne.
Yes, he was carrying a bunch of early wild roses,
and in a second they came flying over the fence
toward her, and Obi turned into the cart track
that led to the barnyard.

" Thank you, thank you e-v-e-r so much ! "
called Tommy-Anne, waving her handkerchief
as a joy signal. " Where d-i-d you get them ? "

Obi did not seem to hear the question. A
great change had come over him since he had
been allowed to study at Happy House (for this
was the name Tommy-Anne had given her
home). She noticed that he was very deaf in
working hours, but recovered his hearing entirely
on holidays.

" Now I have enough for a bouquet," she said,
unfastening the wild roses, which were tied with
more than a 'yard of stout string into a turnip-
like lump, and doing them up prettily with a
red bud stuck in here and there ; " I wonder
why Obi made such a cabbagey bouquet."

44 He made it to throw well," said a thin voice
close to her ear. 44 If you tried to throw yours,

THE FLOWER MARKET

95

it would go as many ways as there are flowers
in it."

A whirring noise followed the voice ; a sound
such as the wheels of an alarm clock make before
it strikes. Then there was a flutter, a gleam of
emerald and gold, and Tommy-Anne saw that
Ruby-throat himself was breakfasting
on her roses, without even waiting
for an invitation.

" I heard that you wished
to visit the Flower Market
with me," he said, dipping
his needle-like tongue into
the heart of each rose, while
he never for a second stopped
the hum-m-m-m, that his wings
made ; " and I thought it would
be polite, as you are a female, for me to call."

"Yes, thank you, I do wish to go there very
much, for there are so many whys that I want to
ask you. But, please who told you about me?"

" Hum-m-m-m um, who ? The message came to
me quite direct ; if I remember rightly, the little
Oak up back on the hill, with whom you were
talking one day, told an Ant who lived near, the
Ant told a yellow Spider who spreads his nets
every night on Miou's lilac bush in the garden,

96 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

the Spider chattered about it to his wife, and the
Wind heard him in going by, and told it to a bit of
dandelion down he was carrying; I caught the down
and took it home to line my nest, and it told me ! "

"Do you call that coining direct?" laughed
Tommy-Anne. " I should think that a very
'round Robin Hood's barn' sort of way."

" Oh no ; it is quite direct for us. When Heart
of Nature's messengers fetch and carry, even if
the message passes through a hundred beaks and
tongues, it never grows either larger or smaller
than when it started ; his servants add nothing,
take nothing ; simply repeat.

" Thanks, very nice breakfast, delicious roses ;
now that I have done, what can I do for you ? "
said Ruby-throat.

"Take me to the Flower Market first, if you
please, and then tell me all the whys," she said,
drawing her wide hat forward so that it shaded
her eyes, and preparing to start.

" We are in.the Flower Market now."

" In the flower garden, yes ; but it is the market
that I wish to see. The place where the flowers
sell honey and buy the life-dust to fill the lunch
baskets for the little seeds," she explained slowly,
and very politely, thinking that Ruby-throat had
misunderstood.

THE FLOWER MARKET 97

" We are in the Flower Market now," insisted
Ruby-throat, perching in the shade of the honey-
suckle. " Wherever there is a tree, or bush, or
plant, or a blade of grass in bloom, there is the
Flower Market. All day long and all through
the nights, from the time Peboan leaves until he
brings snow again, the buying and selling goes
on; yes, and even then messages are carried
over snowy fields to the brave Witch Hazel."

" I thought," said Tom my- Anne, much crest-
fallen, "that you knew of some one place where
all the different kinds of flowers were collected,
something like a flower show, where they are all
in one big room."

" Are there any butterflies in a flower show, or
moths or bees to carry messages ? "

" Oh no ! the flowers are only there for people
to admire."

" Tommy- Anne, when flowers are at their work
filling the lunch baskets, as Heart of Nature bids
them, they cannot possibly all live in one place,
because they are made to draw their food from
different soils, and to suit different conditions ;
and as they come into bloom at different seasons,
different messengers must serve them. How do
you think that an April Violet, who loves the
shade, the Ox-eyed Daisy of June, and the Rose

98 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

Mallow, that takes its walk through the marshes
in August, could meet in the same Flower
Market?

44 No ; the Flower Market begins in late Feb-
ruary or early March, when the monk of the
swamps, the Skunk Cabbage, pushes his pointed
hood through the gaps in the snow, and it lasts
until Witch Hazel receives its messenger, who^
comes so late that it cannot cast the seed abroad
until another spring.

"One week, the Violets call, 4We are ready,' to
the little white Anemones — that are so shy that
they hang their heads if Gheezis does not smile
at them, and they hold the Market ; then the trees
of forest and river-banks take their turn. Next
come the orchards ; then the festival moves down
among the meadow grasses ; next the marsh ferns
claim it."

44 Trees ! grasses ! ferns ! " said Tommy- Anne,
in astonishment; 44I never thought that they
belonged in the Flower Market."

44 And why not? Do you know what a flower
is, little House Child ? "

44 Of course I do," she answered, rather indig-
nantly. 44 It is a lovely thing that grows on a
plant, and it is made of coloured leaves, and some
flowers smell very sweet, and some sour, and

THE FLOWER MARKET 99

some have no smell at all. These pinks and
roses are sweet, but the yellow ones over there
are very sour ; why is that, dear Ruby-throat ? "

But instead of answering her last question,
Ruby-throat said, " You have forgotten the chief
thing : the flower is the bearer of the seed baskets,
and that is its reason for being. Lay one of those
wild roses on your hand and look at it carefully,
beginning with the stem.

44 You see that the stem swells to a green cup-
shape, ending in the five little pointed leaves that
wrapped the bud."

" Yes ; and inside that are five pink leaves
fastened on at the bottom ; they are called petals.
I know that, anyway."

" And again, inside of the petals ? "

" A lot of little threads in a circle, each with a
puff of yellow powder for a head, and inside the
circle, a bunch of green knobs that come from
the stem-cup."

" That is right. Now of all those parts in
what is called the flower, only two are absolutely
necessary to the growing of the seed : the lunch
basket, holding the seed-germs, waiting for their
food, of which the knob is the handle, and the
balls of golden powder, which is the life-dust, —
the food to nourish the speck of life first until it

10Q STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

becomes a seed, and then a plant. These powder-
puffs are of as many shapes and fashions as the
flower itself. The coloured petals of the flowers
may be different in shape, of one piece or many,
large or small, or lacking altogether; but if the
basket of seed-germs and the life-dust is there,
then it is a flower.

"The oak bears acorns, though its flowers are\
but dingy feathers; the birch's brown tassels^
from which the golden dust blows are as much
its flowers as the sweet rosy clusters on the apple
tree."

" But, dear Ruby-throat, if every flower grows
its own life-dust, why do they have messengers
to carry it to and fro ? Why must they buy and
sell?"

" This is the reason, Tommy- Anne. Even if a
flower grows the life-dust, it may not grow it for
itself alone, and some plants have blossoms where
the seed basket is in one flower and the dust in
another ; then how could the dust and the basket
meet without a special messenger ? "

" I can understand that ; but this rose has both
dust and basket in the same blossom."

"The rose and many others can supply them-
selves, and usually do so, but oftentimes the dust
on a flower may not be ripe when the seed -germ

THE FLOWER lytARKET , , 1Q1

is the hungriest, so Heart of Nature has told the
messengers to fetch and carry, that all may be
doubly sure."

'* Who are the messengers, and how do they
work?"

" They are many, and as varied as the flowers
they serve, — bees, butterflies, moths, and then
always the wind, and for some things the Water
Brother, though he is greater as a seed-sower.

" Heart of Nature sends one of these winged
transports to the flower whose heart it can best
reach, saying, ' Feed from the honey ; take your
fill of the golden store.' As he eats, the life-dust
clings to his tongue or hairy legs or feelers, and
he bears it with him to be left on the next flower
he visits. So two are fed at once, the insect mes-
senger and the seed. And each blossom has its
sign by which its rightful messenger knows it,
— colour or perfume, — and not one of them
would so far forget himself as to mix the message
of buttercups and clover."

"But," persisted Tommy- Anne, "why didn't
the first Heart arrange the Plan so as to have the
life-dust always tip over into the baskets, with-
out messengers ? "

" Because," answered a voice that she knew be-
longed to her Tree Man, even though she could

L -.STORIES OF tPLANTS AND ANIMALS

not see him, "nothing is made for itself alone.
The bee is for the flower, the flower for the bee.
Dependence is the strength of my garden. Do
you remember the password, Tommy-Anne ? "
" Yes," she whispered ; "it is Brotherhood."

"Tell me about the flower families, please,
Ruby-throat, and who is the Queen of the
Flower Market?" said Tommy-Anne, who had
been silent for so long a time that the fidgety
Hummingbird was on the point of flying away.
"The Bumble-bee said that the Rose Family is
very important."

" Here comes Mr. Bumble now ; he can tell you
himself, for I have an important engagement
quite a piece away, but you will usually find me
in the garden from sunrise to sunset," said the
Hummingbird.

" I have seen you here in the honeysuckle later
than that, when it was quite dark."

" Seen me after dark ? Never, I assure you ;
you must mea-n one of those clumsy prowling
Hawk Moths. They always come out, taking the
best of everything, when respectable Humming-
birds are in bed. Pray do not mix me up with
butterflies and moths ; they are only flying worms,
while we come out of nice clean eggs. A little

THE FLOWER MARKET 103

•time, a little food, and presto ! we are beautiful
birds. While those others, do as many tricks and
changes as Wabeno who was juggler to the Red
Brothers. You should see the
horrible thing that the Hawk
Moth grows from, and you would
never think of mistaking us again."

" Oh, do tell me about all the
tricks, and more about the Hawk
Moth."

Ruby-throat said something about
"asking the Hawk himself," and
was gone with a whirr and a flash.

"How do you do, Tommy-Anne?" said Git-
che-ah-mo, the Bumble-bee, his legs dragging
heavily with the weight of the gold dust upon
them. " When I saw you last, everything smelled
of lilacs, and now the perfume has changed to
grape flowers and roses ; but whatever it is, it
means work for some of us bees. So you wish
to know which is the greatest family in the
Flower Market? The answer depends greatly
upon whom you ask. A cow or a sheep would
probably "say the Grass, but I think that the birds
and the House People would agree upon the Rose
Family."

" Do birds care for roses? "

104 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" Not much for roses, perhaps, but they are
devoted to cherries and strawberries."

" What have they to do with roses ? "

" A great deal, Tommy- Anne ; for they belong
to the Rose Family."

" I don't understand about this one single bit ;
why do they belong to the Rose Family? what
makes a plant family ? "

" There are great divisions that come first, —
the plants with flowers, and the plants with only
rusty seed spots on their leaves, like the ferns.
Then those whose sap veins run up and down
the leaves, and those where the veins run across
like spider webbing. Then plants who thrust up
a single finger when they leave the seed, like the
grass and corn, and those that reach out two, like
the bean, for by these signs and many others the
plant world is divided into races, and after that
the families are made from the plants whose habits
follow some one of the many designs."

" Then if a plant is not like any other, it has to
be a family by itself ? "

" Yes, Tommy- Anne, and the House People
have given these orders and families long Latin
names; they are not easy to remember at first,
yet they all have a meaning, and you must learn
them before you can know how plants that look

THE FLOWER MARKET 105

wholly unlike at the first glance may be first
cousins."

Meanwhile Mr. Ah-mo had disappeared in a
great white foxglove bell, but he soon backed
out again, smothered in gold dust.

" Please tell me the names of other flowers that
belong to the Rose Family, and which one of them
is the ruler."

" The Rose herself is the Queen," said Gitche-
ah-mo, in his rich bass voice, " and her brothers,
the Plum and the Pear, help her. There is a
great deal to be done in this household, and some
members of it are busy in the Flower Market
from Cherry time until the Moon of Falling
Leaves. The best garden fruits belong to this
family, — the cherry, and his wild mates, the
apple, quince, pear, plum, strawberry, raspberry,
blackberry, — arid beside these fruits, the thorns
and other flowering shrubs."

" / think it ought to be called the jam family,"
cried Tommy-Anne, clapping her hands at the
idea. " I don't wonder that you roses hold your
heads so high," said she, to the big bush nearest
to her. " I'm very much obliged to you, I'm
sure, Madam Rose, for having so many lovely
children, and cousins, and brothers, and nephews,
and nieces ; why, we could have a whole garden

106 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

and orchard without going out of your family
but that would be what people call 'very exclu-
sive,' which father says is a greedy, bad habit."
And she made a courtesy to the bush and gave
each open rose a light kiss in its heart, throwing
a handful more to the other bushes.

" Pooh ! " said a great scarlet Poppy, tossing its
fiery head ; " you might take some notice of me,
for one of my family grows a juice that will put
you to sleep in a minute."

" I don't care one bit for that," answered
Tommy- Anne. "Going to sleep is easy enough;
if the juice would wake me up in the morning as
quickly, it would be of much more use to me."

" You lovely Butterfly ! " she exclaimed, as a
yellow beauty, barred and edged with black, its
lower wings ending in long points, fluttered by,
passing spray after spray of blossoms in search
for something that he did not find. " Will you
have some roses for breakfast ? Ruby-throat
said they were delicious."

" No, I thank'-you," he replied ; " I am not a mes-
senger for that family. I serve much humbler
plants, — many of those that House People call
weeds ; but if you have any parsley in the garden,
I will breakfast with you."

" We have plenty of parsley, but it never grows

THE FLOWER MARKET

107

old enough to have flowers, because, you see, we
are always nipping it off to flavour things."

" I smell some carraway flowers, over there in
the herb bed," said the Butterfly; " they are cousins
to the parsley, so I will visit them."

" Have you any name ? " asked Tommy- Anne.

" Because of my stripes and long
wings, I am called Tiger Swallow-
tail, and I have many brothers
shaped like me, but of differ-
ent colours," said he, pois-
ing on one of the um-
brella-shaped clusters
of the carraway
flowers and raising
his wings until they
met above his back,
while he sipped a little
aromatic honey.

"Why did Ruby-throat say that butterflies
and moths are only trick worms with wings, not
coming straight from a nice clean egg, as he
does?"

" It is true that as butterflies we do not come
directly from the egg, and at best the longest
life among us is but a short year, yet the changes
we go through from our birth to our maturity are

108 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

mysterious and strange. I don't wonder that
the Hummingbird thought them Wabeno's tricks,
but does he not know that as a magician Wabeno
is a bungler compared to Heart of Nature ?

" This is our life history briefly told : the females
of our family lay their eggs one by one on a leaf.
After some days a caterpillar is hatched. It is
deep green and wears a sable band and turquoise
buttons in black settings. This caterpillar, after
feeding greedily upon young willow leaves or
sprigs of ash and poplar, lies down to rest in
the groove of a leaf, weaving a little silken shawl
about itself."

" Oh yes ! " cried Tommy- Anne, in delight ;
" that is a cocoon. I gathered a great many of
those things last summer, but they wizzled away,
and nothing ever came out of them."

" No ; this little veiled caterpillar is not the
cocoon ; that is why no butterflies came out of
yours. After the caterpillar has rested, he moults
the shawl, and goes to another leaf and eats again
and rests, and he does this until he has rested
and moulted four times, all the while growing
larger. At last he spins a web and draws a leaf
together until it closes around him like a ham-
mock, and in this he makes the bed in which he
lies during the two or three weeks that it takes,

THE FLOWER MARKET 109

in summer, for his wings to grdw, and finally he
gnaws the web away and crawls out a full-feathered
butterfly."

" Full-feathered ? Do butterflies really have
feathers, or is that only a way of speaking ? "

"They have feathers. This colour upon my
wings is made of feathers as perfect as those the
birds wear, but from their fineness you think them
only dust."

" Where do you live in winter, Mr. Swallow-
tail ? I have never seen any of your brothers
hereabout, and you look so frail that I should
think the frost would wither you, as it does the
flowers."

"In our family, two broods are raised every
season, and we full-grown butterflies die in the
autumn. The worms that have . spun the late
cocoons live hidden away in them all winter
because of the cold, not coming out as butterflies
until the spring. But every family, whether of
butterflies or moths, has its own habits. Some of
us sleep the long winter sleep as butterflies, and
die in early summer after laying the eggs, while
others fly away in autumn to warmer countries,
migrating with the birds."

" Fly away like birds ? Which ones are able to
do that ? "

110 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" There are some of that family over yonder in
the field. Come with me, and they shall tell their
own story."

At that moment Waddles raced up. He had
been trying to help Obi, who was busy cooping two
broods of newly hatched chickens ; but his com-
pany had proved very unwelcome, and he barked
and bayed at his mistress, vainly trying to make
her see that his- intentions toward the chicks were
of the kindest, and that he felt very much grieved
at the suspicion that Obi cast upon him. So to
keep him quiet, Tommy-Anne allowed him to
join her, and Swallow-tail led the way to the
field.

The grass was tall and uneven, the most con-
spicuous flowers being pale yellow thistles and
quantities of common milkweed. Butterflies
were almost as thick as the flowers, — brick-red
butterflies, edged and ribbed with black. They
were strong of wing, too, taking straight aim and
flying direct, not fluttering about in the undecided
manner of their kind.

Swallow-tail whispered something, and a bevy
left their work and came gracefully toward
Tommy- Anne.

"So Ruby-throat has been mocking us," said
the foremost, " calling us ' flying worms ' ? He

THE FLOWER MARKET HI

had better not boast, I can tell him, for there is
not a beak in all Birdland that dare even so
much as bite one of us ! " And his companions
waved their wings in approval.

Tommy-Anne did not speak, but she looked
as if she thought this statement
rather a whoppergrass, and the
butterfly continued : —

" Frail as I look, I am named
the Monarch, and I can
fly hundreds of miles with-
out resting, passing over
seas from island to island, like
the fleetest-winged bird.1 Last
September, when my black,
white, and yellow caterpillar
had completed his changes, and
I came from the cocoon, I joined my brothers in
the great waste fields over the hills by the salt
water, where are acres of the milkweeds for which
we are the messengers.

" Shaw-shaw, the Swallow, was gathering his
flocks at the same time. We circled together
over the sands, and travelled southward, casting
shadows on the water-ripples as we passed over.
Some of us tarried in Florida with the Thrushes,
1 See Guide to Butterflies, H. S. Scudder.

112 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

but others passed onward to the islands in the
wake of the Swallows. All winter long we
toiled for our bread in the Flower Market, but
among such flowers that the1 very sight of them
would make our home-staying brothers turn into
beetles with envy.

"Then, stopping to give greetings in all the
Flower Markets by the way, I returned ; and now
when the first eggs of the year are laid, my life
work will be done."

"Why didn't the birds eat you?" asked
Tommy-Anne, incredulously. " You. must have
met a great many hungry ones in travelling so far."

" Heart of Nature protects us. He has wrapped
our bodies in a magic perfume that is hateful to
birds." And the Monarch fluttered close to her
face for a second.

" Oh, oh ! " cried Tommy- Anne, pinching her
poor little nose tightly together. " I don't call
that a perfume y it is a smell, and a very bad one,
too. Thank you, that is quite enough; I under-
stand perfectly why the birds do not eat you."

"So do I, mistress," said Waddles. "I once
caught one of these Monarchs, and, between our-
selves, / think it ought to be called the Skunk
Butterfly ! "

But the Monarch overheard, and, taking offence

THE FLOWER MARKET 113

at Waddles' remark, called his companions, and
prepared for a long flight, saying angrily, " If
this is the way you treat us when I am kind
enough to tell whys, we will go away and live on
some one else's milkweed flowers ! "

" Oh, please don't," cried Tommy- Anne. "You
should not be vexed at Waddles ; for your
perfume, though it does not seem nice to us,
must be a very useful cm oil to you, just as the
Skunk's is to him ; and I dare say that there
are some things that might think both of these
smells delightful ! "

" You are right, Tommy-Anne," said the Mon-
arch, in a tone of apology ; " a smell may be very
useful and not ornamental, so to speak.

" It is the same with the marsh plant that the
House People call the skunk cabbage. Its rank
odour calls the bee messengers to him, across
some half- thawed swamp as quickly as if it was
as the heliotrope itself." Then the whole flock
of Monarchs began to flutter and rise for their
flight.

" Monarch, Mr. Milkweed Monarch ! " she
called as they scattered, "won't you please tell
me what sort of a worm the Hawk Moth comes
from ? Ruby -throat says that it is a horrible
thing ; but then he seems to dislike this moth."

11-1 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

, " I would rather not say anything about it,"
answered the Monarch. u Ask the Hawk him-
self ; he will be sure to visit the honeysuckles
to-night, or else the petunias or lilies, for he
carries messages for many deep-throated blos-
soms."

" I suppose we must wait," said Tommy- Anne
to Waddles. " Heart of Nature's things do not
seem to like to tell tales about each other. What
shall we do now ? "

" We might go and see how Obi is managing
with the chickens," answered Waddles.

" We might, but we wont" said his mistress.
" I will attend to Obi and the chickens, and you
may go and rest on the piazza. Mind, sir ! "

The bees held high carnival in the garden all
the afternoon, — bees of all kinds and descriptions,
hive bees, wild bees, carpenters, and bumble bees,
all bustling and repeating the flower messages in
such loud voices, that if there were any secrets
among them, they were pretty well spread abroad.
As the sun lowered, one by one disappeared,
zigzagging home in different directions.

Waddles had come to grief soon after dinner,
by poking his nose into a hornet's nest, and was
now in a shady part of the garden, with his

THE FLOWER MARKET H5

bumpy, swollen face buried in the fresh earth,
trying to imagine that he had not been foolish.

The birds were having a grand concert, for
there were young ones in almost every nest,
and hosts of members were trooping to the Robin
Club in the cedars. After supper, Tommy-Anne
walked up and down by the honeysuckle trellis,
waiting for whatever might turn up ; for since
she had worn the Magic Spectacles something
interesting was all the time happening. The new
moon was slipping down the sky in the northwest,
and the sight of it reminded her of what the
little Oak had said about the Moon Moth and the
Land of Nod, where the flowers slept. Then she
felt something fly lightly by and touch her hand.
She looked again, and there was an exquisite
moth, actually resting on her sleeve, its gauzy
wings spread flatly, and not fluttering like some
of its butterfly kin.

" You wished to go to the Land of Nod, so I
have come," said a silvery voice.

" What are you ? " whispered Tommy- Anne ;
44 a moonbeam ? "

" Not that, but the next thing to it. I am the
Moon Moth," he said, spreading his long-tailed
transparent wings, that were of the same shim-
mering green as a young poppy leaf when the dew

116 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

lies on it, and touched here and there with bark-
brown edges and brilliant eye-spots like the mark-
ings on a flower petal. Except for his stout,
furry body, lie was more graceful than any of the
day butterflies.

"How could Ruby-throat ever call a beauti-
ful thing like this, a ' flying worm' ? " thought
Tommy- Anne ; but she only said : " You are
very good to come for me, and I shall be delighted
to go ; but please, is the Land of Nod a long way
off? Because in the evening I may only go about
the garden and a little way up the hill yonder,
and then, only when it is moonlight, and this
moon is so young that I think it will soon have
to go to bed."

" Tommy- Anne," replied the Moon Moth, " the
Land of Nod is both far and near, for it is wherever
the Flower Market is held."

" Do the poor flowers never sleep, then ? "

" Surely they do. Those who have done their
work by day close their lids and fold their hands,
sleeping as peacefully as you yourself ; but there
are other blossoms who only begin their labours
as Gheezis disappears, and we are their messengers,
we moths, the heavy-bodied flyers of the shady
hours and of the night, for it takes the moths' long
tongues to reach the honeyed hearts of the deeply

THE FLOWER MARKET H7

tubed night blossoms. See, the white ipomea,
that is called the Moon Flower from its blooming
time, is already waiting on your arbour for its
guests, and the honeysuckle buds are breathing
their first best perfume."

44 Honeysuckles are open all day long," said
Tommy- A line.

" They stay open in the day, it is true, but
their first freshness and sweetness has passed by.
That gleams and wafts through the darkness to
lead their messengers, the Hawk Moths, to them.
Hark ! I hear them coming now."

There was a whirring, even louder than the
winging of the Hummingbird, and several dusky
shapes hovered above the vine, dark and mysteri-
ous as bats.

44 Please keep still one minute, so that I can see
you," pleaded Tommy-Anne. 44 1 have heard so
much about you from Ruby-throat."

44 And nothing good, I'll warrant," said the
Hawk Moth, poising for a second on the back of
her hand, so that she saw that he was broader
than her palm, with wings striped and spotted
with gray and black, while a row of orange spots
dotted the sides of his hairy body like tiny lamps.
In fact, near by he looked fierce and hawk-like
enough to deserve his name.

118 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" Ruby-throat does not half like me," he con-
tinued, returning to the honeysuckle ; " you see,
we are honey rivals, visiting many of the same
flowers, and as I come out at night when they are
opening, I have first choice, and he has to take
what is left the next day. But he should not
grumble, for he may eat nice green lice, while the
law of my family forbids eating meat. I suppose
he called me a 4 flying worm ' or something of
that sort?"

"I — I believe he did," said Tommy-Anne, re-
luctantly ; " but he didn't tell what sort of a
worm you come from ; he said I must ask
you."

" He did, did he? Well ; my dear, I must con-
fess that in my first state I am not attractive, or
in any way agreeable to the House People. In
fact, I come from that extremely disagreeable fat
green caterpillar, with white lines on its sides and
sting horns on its tail, who raises such a rumpus
among the tomato and potato vines."

" That dreadful great beast, as long and thick
as one of Obi's fingers, who burns you so if you
touch it when you are picking the vegetables, and
makes such a nasty mess when you tread on him ? "

"The very same. You see I am not so con-
ceited but what I know all my bad points ; but as

THE FLOWER MARKET

a moth I work with a will and do my best in the
Flower Market to make up for my unlovely past."

" Please let me see your beak ; it is very curly
and seems longer than Ruby-throat's."

" I have no beak, Tommy-Anne. What you call
a beak is my hollow tongue ; that I can curve and
bend and thrust into the heart of the slenderest
flower tube, leaving the life-dust as I steal the
honey."

Then the Hawk darted to the other side of the
trellis.

"How do you moths know the way to the
flowers when it is quite dark?" asked Tommy-
Anne of the Moon Moth, who still rested on her
sleeve.

"Heart of Nature has given light, shining col-
ours to these flowers and pungent perfumes to be
their signals, according to their needs. Even
now, the evening primrose, has unbound its shin-
ing yellow wheels, and their fragrance floats afar. "

As the moon grew paler, the fireflies began to
gleam, and dance about, at first keeping low,
and then gradually rising, until they seemed to
Tommy- Anne to become confused with the stars.

" What are those little bits of light down in the
grass? Are they lame- winged fireflies that cannot
rise ? " she asked.

120 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

"They are the wingless wives of the others,
and because they always keep on the ground,
House People often call them glow-worms. See !
one is crawling under a low-spread spider-web
that the dew has covered with its diamonds."

"Dear Moon Moth," said Tommy-Anne, "you
said a little while ago that some flowers go to
sleep the same as I do ; are there any such nearby
that you could show me ? "

"Yes, all about the garden and meadows the
blossoms are nodding and drowsing, each one
taking the sleeping position that it prefers. Look
behind you at the poppies ; their heavy heads are
drooping, and their petals closed flatly, and the
blue lupins, their neighbours, droop their leaves
like half -closed umbrellas."

"And," said Tommy- Anne, in an awestruck
tone, " the sweet peas are all drawn together, and
the single roses, that were so wide open this morn-
ing, are curled up as if they had dreadful cramps.
Oh, oh ! all these little things in the long border
are hanging their heads and gaping as if they
were simply falling over with sleep, and couldn't
stand up another minute ; and only see the dew
on this dandelion fluff-ball ! there is a drop on
every single feather ! "

"Come up the hill a step or two," said the

THE FLOWER MARKET 121

Moon Moth, floating on in advance, " and see the
red clover and the daisies. The clover leaves are
folded and bend over to cover the flowers, and the
daisies stack their rays or hang their heads."

" How many lovely smells there are about, and
what hundreds of strange sounds ! " said Tommy-
Anne, sniffing the air in delight. "I am sure I
smell peppermint."

" Yes, you are walking through a bed of it
now ; every time the night wind blows it sends
abroad the breath of some wild herb."

" What was that ? " cried Tommy-Anne, half
alarmed as something overhead moved from
branch to branch, half flying and half leaping ;
"it can't be a Bat."

"It is a Flying Squirrel. He seldom comes
out in the daytime, for he likes night silence;
this year he lives in the hollow chestnut on the
hilltop."

"What made this trail along the grass where
the dew is brushed away ? "

" That is a rabbit track," answered Waddles,
putting h'is nose to the ground and looking at his
mistress slyly ; " would you like to know where it
goes ? I should be happy to find out for you."

" Waddles ! " said his mistress, warningly.
Then she sighed, and said to the Moon Moth,

122 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

"How I do wish I could see the little wood beasts
and the night frogs and things all at once ! Do
you think I ever can ? "

" I am not sure," said the Moon Moth, hesitat-
ing ; " there is only one way that a House Child
may see all these creatures of the night woods, and
then only if Weeng, the sleep spirit, and Wabeno,
the juggler, are willing."

"Do tell me the way, and how I can ask
Weeng and Wabeno," asked Tommy-Anne, clasp-
ing her hands.

"At the full of the June moon, all the beasts,
and frogs, and night birds gather at the moss
circle on top of the hill, and hold what we call
the Forest Circus, and if you are allowed, you will
see things there that never happen anywhere else,
or at any other time, for distinguished guests are
invited from other places, some great beasts com-
, ing even from the far-off Adirondack wilderness."

" But where can I find the two spirits, to ask
their leave, dear Moon Moth?"

" On the night of the full moon, go, before it is
dark, to the moss circle where you often play with
Waddles ; wait there until little Oo-oo comes,
and he will tell you what to do. The primroses
are growing restless, and the moon is asleep, so
good-night, Tommy-Anne."

THE FLOWER MARKET

123

"Mistress," said Waddles, as they reached the
house, "if you can do without me for a little
while, I think I
should enjoy tak-
ing a walk by my-
self in the Land of
Nod, to see if I can
4 catch a Weasel
asleep.' I have
heard that it is a
very great thing
to do."

" Come home,
you silly dog,"
said Tommy-Anne,
holding him by
the collar ; " isn't
being stung nearly

blind enough of an adventure for one day ? Sup-
pose you should meet a Scent Cat ! You would
have to be buried up to your neck in the earth
for a whole day to make you un-scented ; for Obi
says that is the only cure for any one that meets a
Scent Cat suddenly ! "

VI

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PAETY

TOMMY- ANNE thought the "Moon of Snow-
Shoes" a very deceitful name for November, as
there was no snow, not even so much as a flurry :
but instead, the winds played a hundred pranks
and sang snatches of all their tunes, and the
weather danced to the music and brought March
gusts, May softness, that swelled the buds dan-
gerously, and bits of coppery August haze, as if
the Old Year had shaken its scrap-bag over the
earth, before beginning housekeeping anew.

Finally December and Peboan arrived together,
124

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 125

as Kabibonokka had promised, and the week be-
fore Christmas the snow followed, light and pow-
dery at first, then growing heavier and heavier,
until as far abroad and upward as Tommy- Anne
could see, there was nothing but a maze of flakes,
failing, falling, falling, until her eyes blinked and
closed in confusion. But where was the Snow
Owl? Where was Waw-be-ko-ko, who was to
follow Peboan? Surely winter was there, for the
little ponds were ice-locked, and frost ferns grew
nightly on the window-panes.

Would the snow be too deep for Obi to go to
the mountain for the Christmas tree? So many
whys flew through Tommy-Anne's brain, and she
kept opening the windows so often to see if she
could find the answers to them, that, of course,
the damp snow clung to her hair and shoulders,
and she had a dreadful chill.

" How did you manage to catch such a bad
cold ? " said Aunt Prue, as she bustled in with
some of the well-known bottles of medicine.

" I ? Indeed, I didn't do any such thing," pro-
tested Tommy- Anne ; " I only opened the win-
dow, and it reached in and caught me ! "

Now, to Tommy-Anne a cold usually meant
being tucked into bed beside a cosy wood fire,
having something particularly soothing to eat,

126 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

and mother near to read a delightful story aloud ;
but now the entire household seemed to be upset
in some way. Her mother was not well, and her
father had taken his writing up to her room, and
Aunt Prue, forgetting to tell her how careless she
had been, pushed Tommy- Anne's little white iron
bed into the study, leaving her to sit up or lie
down as she pleased. Even Waddles grew sud-
denly independent, and trotted off through the
snow in spite of his mistress' remonstrances.
Surely the world must be coming to an end,
thought Tommy- Anne.

After two or three days the young lady felt
much better, though she had to stay in the study
for fear of draughts. This she did not mind,
however, for she could see Obi coming down the
hill dragging the precious Christmas tree through
the snow, and whistling like mad, and of course
he had to come in and help place it in the corner
of the study and then put the candles and other
fixings on the highest branches, as her father was
very busy; so Tommy-Anne soon felt quite cheerful
again.

" You ought to hurry up and get well and come
out," said Obi, in one of the pauses, sitting on
the step-ladder while Tommy- Anne untangled the
strings of pop-corn that would curl themselves

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 127

provokingly. " There's a lot of strange birds
come since yesterday, all the kinds from up north ;
storm blew them down, I guess, and this morning
I saw a mighty big white Owl catching mice down
in the meadow."

" The Snow Owl ! Has he really come ? Oh,
how I wish I could see him and ask him to come
up here ! "

"Ask him up here? He'd be so .likely to
come," laughed Obi, thinking that her cold must
have affected Tommy-Anne's head. "Now that

128 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

all the high things are up and you can reach the
other branches, I think I'll go and see if I can't
shoot that Owl for you; he'd be a beauty stuffed."

" Oh don't, Obi, don't kill him! Think how sorry
his wife might be, that is — at least not until
after Christmas. It must be horrid to be killed
so near to it, you know." And then Tommy- Anne
stopped, knowing that she was twisting herself
up and talking what must seem nonsense to Obi.

"Mistress," said Waddles, "I think you are
carrying things too far. Don't you remember that
Obi, who doesn't wear the Magic Spectacles, can't
possibly know that you expect that Owl to come
to your Christmas tree ? "

" Of course he doesn't, Waddlekins dear, and I
can't ever explain the reasons either. Never mind;
we must coax Aunt Prue to bring all my berries
and corn and grasses down from the attic, and we
will put them around the room for decorations,
and then the birds can help themselves when they
come to the tree."

" Obi," called Tommy- Anne, as he was going
out the door, " could you possibly catch me half-
a-dozen fat mice some time to-morrow ? "

" Yes, to be sure I can; we catch a trapful every
night in the barn. I suppose you are going to
boil them down for tallow, the same as aunt does.

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 129

She always makes mouse tallow every winter; it's
just boss for chapped hands."

Tommy-Anne smiled. Was she going to make
mouse tallow? She thought not ; but what she in-
tended doing with the mice was a profound secret.

That same afternoon, a little before dusk, as she
stood by the window looking at the light from
the lantern that shone through the cow-shed win-
dow, where the milking was going on, a white
shape flapped up to the window, and perched on
the sill, quite startling her.

" Open the window," it said; " I want to speak
to you."

" I mustn't," she replied ; " I have a snuffle
cold."

"Then I must do it myself," said Waw-be-
ko-ko, for it was he, as he came through the sash.

" You dear Snow Owl ! " said Tommy-Anne,
holding out her arms as if she would like to hug
him. " I was so afraid that I should not see you ;
and way back in the spring I promised the little
Spruce, you know, that I would ask you to my
Christmas tree."

"No, I didn't know anything about the tree,
and I came very near not hearing about the invi-
tation at all," said Waw-be-ko-ko. " You see the
little Spruce was snowed under when I came, and it

130 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

could not find any one to take the message to me
until this afternoon. Then a Rabbit came nib-
bling by, and the tree told him. I saw the Rabbit
in the meadow, but he was so afraid that I should
eat him that he would not come near enough for
me to hear distinctly what he said. All I could
make out was something about 4 Tommy-Anne ' so
I came up to see what you wanted."

" Why did the Rabbit think that you might eat
him ? Do you eat such things ? "

44 1 have done so, but not often, for Rabbits are
a great deal of trouble to carve. I prefer mice,
nice juicy mice ; they are so much easier to eat.
But when are you going to have the grand Christ-
mas tree ? I see a tree over in the corner, but it
is not hung with twinkling stars, like the one I
saw down in the white house in the village."

" Mine will have stars on it, too, when it is lit
to-morrow night. What time can you come ? And
don't forget to bring some of your friends with
you, so that we can have a real party ; not one of
Aunt Prue's 'two is enough' affairs."

44 1 will come at this same time to-morrow
night. I am a day Owl, and my friends would
not care to be out late in this cold season ; they
might not be able to find their way back to their
roosts. Excuse me," said he, lurching down to

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 131

the hearth and snapping up a luckless mouse, who
had ventured too far from his hole. " It is always
well to have an eye to business ! Comfortable
room this, nice fire ! Bless me ! if I stayed
here long, I should fall asleep. Good-bye until
to-morrow, Tommy-Anne, and don't forget to
have some comfortable seats for my friends."
And he disappeared through the window.

" Seats for birds ! I wonder what will be best.
Now I have it," thought Tommy- Anne ; " the
clothes-rack in my room is the very thing, — the
one with the wooden pegs ! " And immediately
she began bumping it along until it reached the
corner opposite the Christmas tree, where it
stood, looking rather like a leafless tree itself.

The day before Christmas, Tommy- Anne could
hardly keep still. She saw Obi and the Miller's
children coasting down the long hill back of the
barn, while Waddles raced beside them, barking
frantically ; there were troops of strange birds,
with bent beaks, picking the seed from the spruce
cones in the trees near the house, and there was a
great deal of running to and fro about the house,
knocks on the side door, and many whisperings.

" They must be bringing in presents," she said
vaguely. Then a strange sound came from up

132 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

stairs, not exactly a mew and not a bark ; some-
thing more like a whine, the cry of a young
animal. Could it be ? Was she to have a new
dog for Christmas ?

She would have liked to have half-a-dozen dogs,
but she felt very sure that she would never love
any as well as she did Waddles, and then too he
might be jealous. No; on second thoughts, she
did not care for another dog.

Soon her father came into the study and asked
her if she would like to go up stairs and see a
very particular present that had arrived very early
in the morning. Of course she would.

" Is it for me, or for you, or mother ? " she asked;
" and am I to guess three guesses before I see it ? "

" It is for all of us," her father answered ; " and
you would never guess what it is, if I gave you a
dozen chances."

"Is it an it or a we f Is it any kind of an ani-
mal ? " persisted Tommy- Anne.

" Yes, little daughter ; it is a 4 we,' and it is a
little animal with a soul ! "

Soon before dusk Tommy-Anne hurried bdck
to the study and begged her Aunt Prue, who
was passing the door, to light the tree candles
for her.

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 133

Aunt Prue thought it was taking a double risk
of fire to light them twice, as Obi and the Miller's
children were not coming for their gifts until
eight o'clock, but she finally consented, after set-
ting a pail of water nearby, in case of accident.

Tommy- Anne waited anx-
iously until her aunt had left
the room, and then hastened
to the window. There was a
;^ serious expression on her
face, and she seemed to
have grown taller since
morning.

A sigh came from
the chimney, and a
voice that seemed to
come from the logs
said, "What is the mat-
ter, Tommy- Anne ? You
are thinking about some-
thing. Are you not pleased with your Christmas
gifts ? "

" My dear Tree Man, are you here ? I was
wishing and wishing to see you."

"That is why I came, Tommy- Anne."
"But, dear Heart of Nature," she said, almost
sobbing, " I'm not Tommy-Anne any longer. I've

134 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

broken in half, and Tommy is up stairs, and Tm
down here! You see I have a little brother, who
came before light, and as I didn't expect him, I
had no Christmas present ready for him, so father
said that I might give him half of my name, the
Tommy-half, and I did. Then I gave him half
of Waddles too, — the tail half, because I thought
it would wag and amuse him. And so I'm not
Tommy-Anne any longer, but Di-ana.

" I always thought Di-ana was a horrid name,
called after that stuffy old idol that belonged to
the Ephesians; but father says that there were
several Dianas long ago, and that one was a very
jolly person, who kept a great many dogs and
went hunting in the woods whenever she pleased,
and never tore her clothes ! So now I'm more
reconciled to my name, and I'll adopt this hunt-
ing-lad}r to be my fairy godmother."

Then a tap came at the window, and she flew
to open it, and in fluttered nearly a dozen birds
led by Waw-be-ko-ko, and though they were a
little dazed by the light, they did not forget their
manners, and bowed to Tommy-Anne with great
politeness, as she pointed to the clothes-rack,
upon which they immediately perched.

" Very kind and thoughtful of you, I'm sure,"
said Waw-be-ko-ko; "most charming perch. If

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 135

you please, I think I will warm my claws a bit
by the fire ; they will hardly bend." And he
walked solemnly over to the hearth ; but when
he saw the glassy eyes of the bear's head on the
rug, he gave a squawk and chasseed in the oppo-
site direction.

Tommy-Anne laughed heartily, and Waddles
rolled out of the scrap basket, seeming much
surprised to find so many birds about.

" Will you tell me the names of your friends,
and where they come from? " asked she ; "I have
never seen any of them about in the summer."

"They are all my wing companions from the
north," answered Waw-be-ko-ko, " and their nest-
ing haunts are where the snow, even in summer,
lingers on the side of things that Gheezis does
not see. They come to you with the snow, and
leave again before it has melted from under the
fences. Brother Shrike, allow me to present you
to my friend the House Child ! "

The Shrike was rather embarrassed, for, think-
ing himself unobserved, he in company with the
Tree Sparrow, was taking a dip in Aunt Prue's
water pail, and was in a dripping condition wholly
out of keeping with an evening party. But he
flew to the perch, vainly endeavouring to appear
at ease.

136 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" Oh ! oh ! how funny you look," said Tommy-
Anne ; " won't you sit on the fender until you are
dry ? Please tell me why you have such a hook
on the end of your beak. You look something
like a Hawk."

"Thanks, I will go by the fire," said the Shrike,
in a shamefaced way.

" That hook is to help me catch my food. I
suppose that you would call me a cannibal bird,
for the House People have named me ' Butcher
Bird,' because when I catch more game than I
need, I hang some of it up on bushes and thorns,
as a butcher hangs his meats. To be sure, I do
sometimes eat my smaller brothers, but like all
the others, the Crows, the Hawks, and Owls, the
mice and beetles and harmful insects I destroy,
when compared to the birds I eat, are as a moun-
tain to a mole hill."

" Do winter birds sing ? Do you ever sing,
Mr. Shrike?"

" Indeed he does," said Waw-be-ko-ko, "though
not in the winter. In his nesting haunts he
warbles like a Thrush, and so do these two also,
the brown and white brother, the Snow Bunting,
and this mottled Shore Lark, who soars and sings
above his Labrador nest like his cousin the Eng-
lish Skylark.

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 137

" You would never know them in their sum-
mer coats, Tommy- A nne, from seeing them now.
Brother Bunting is clear black and white, and the
Lark wears two black feathers that make him
look like a clerk with a pen over each ear, and he
has also a beautiful lilac waistcoat."

^Why, what are you doing here, Chipping
Sparrow ? " said Tommy-Anne. " I thought you
had gone away long ago ; and you too, Johnny
Wren ! "

" No, no ! it is a case of mistaken identity,"
they said together. " I," said the smaller of the
two, "am the Winter Wren, the smallest bird
hereabouts, excepting the Kinglet and Ruby-
throat, and I'm spending the winter in your
wood pile." "And J, " said the other, "am the
Winter Chippy, or Tree Sparrow."

" You three reddish birds on the top of the
perch, what are you called ? "

" I'm the Pine Grosbeak," said the largest, with
a heavy gray body, washed above with crimson,
and a stout bill. " I am so named because I build
my nest in the low pines of the cold lands, and
when winter freezes me out, I come down here
to warm myself, again seek shelter in the ever-
greens, and feed upon their cones."

" I," said the twisted-billed, brick-red bird,

138 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

" am the Crossbill, and come from the same regions,
and I also seek my food between the cone-scales.
See, Heart of Nature has arranged my bill like
a pair of pincers, to wrench the cones apart."

" So, then, you are one of the birds that I saw
this morning in the spruces. I thought that your
jaw was out of joint, and it quite worried me."

" I," said the last of the three, with a crimson
cap and a beak sharp as a needle, " am the Jolly
Redpoll. I can weather anything in the way of
cold. I follow man as far north as he may go,
and build my nest but a little above his footsteps,
and now I am gleaning my food from the seeds in
your waste fields, even though the snow flies about
me like diamond dust. May I have some of those
seeds from the grasses on the mantel shelf ? "

"Certainly," said Tommy- Anne. "Please all
help yourselves to anything you wish. See, here
are some fat mice for you, Waw-be-ko-ko." And
she pointed to a lower branch of the Christmas
tree, where some field-mice hung by the tails.
"What would Obi say," thought Tommy- Anne,
" if he knew that he had been catching mice for
an Owl ! "

The Snow Owl was delighted with his feast,
and a peck came just then at the window, which
proved to be the Junco, the gray snow-bird with

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 139

the white vest, who lives all winter in the honey-
suckles. He had forgotten about the party and
gone to roost, and waking up had remembered in
time to join his friends at supper.

For a while all the beaks were nipping, peck-
ing, and snapping together. "I should think
that it would disagree with you to swallow furry,
bony mice without chewing them," said Tommy-
Anne to the Owl.

" So it would if the bones and fur stayed swal-
lowed, but I soon make them into little balls and
spit them up again ! "

" Is that a really truly ? " asked Tommy- Anne,
in astonishment.

" Certainly. Ask Ko-ko-ko-ho ; or, if you look
on the ground near our home tree, you will find
these balls of fur, gristle, heads and tails, every-
where about. Different birds, different habits ;
that is all ! "

44 This pop-corn is excellent," said the Grosbeak.

44 / like these little apples," said the Crossbill,
dipping his beak into the red-cheeked lady apples,
with a relish.

44 1 should like to stay here and build my nest
in the Christmas tree," continued the Grosbeak
sociably.

44 1 wish you would," said Waddles, who had

140 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

been very quiet, but was rapidly growing tired of
the attention that the birds were receiving. " I
like squabs."

44 1 could make a fine nest in that scrap basket,"
said the Winter Wren.

" No, you could not" snapped Waddles ; " that
is my nest ! "

Suddenly the Snow Owl began to cough and
hop about the room, flapping his wings as if in
great agony, and did not answer when everybody
asked what was the matter.

" He has half swallowed a nice red candle,
and he's choking," said Waddles, in glee. ." It
was a blown out candle ; suppose we light it
again ! "

44 No, no !" gasped Waw-be-ko-ko ; 44 let me out
quick."

44 Never mind ; it can't hurt you" said Tommy-
Anne ; 44 for you can make it into little balls and
spit them out whenever you please ! " And all
the birds laughed and thought it was a good joke
on the Owl. As she opened the window to let
him out, the other birds followed. 44 What, must
you all go ? Yes, I see that it is really dark. Good-
night, brother birds, and a merry Christmas ! "

Presently Obi and the Miller's children came,
and candles blazed again and the Spruce tree

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 141

dropped its wonderful fruit into their hands, and
at last the candles burnt out one by one.

Tommy-Anne looked out at the sky, where
S i r i u s, the Dog-Star,
winked gravely at her.
She wondered if Heart
of Nature was near,
and if he would soon
^— come to take away
the Magic Spectacles
that he had lent her
to wear until Christ-
mas Eve. The fire flick-
ered cheerfully, and the
winds whispered out-
side.

"I am here," said the Voice, but this time it
came from the Christmas tree.

" Have you come for the spectacles, dear Tree
Man ? " asked Tommy-Anne, anxiously. " It is so
dark that I can't see you, and this is the time, —
Christmas Eve. Do you know about Christmas
Eve, dear Heart of Nature ? "

" Do I know ? Yes, little House Child ; this is
the anniversary of the night when the Three
Hearts met and understood one another, Heart
of God, Heart of Nature, and Heart of Man ;

A

142 STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS

the Christ Child, the cattle, the shepherds, in the
manger at Bethlehem, and at that meeting the
password Brotherhood was born ! "

Again the winds called and wrung strange
music from the leafless branches. The dry snow
scurried and settled on the window ledges, where
Jack Frost was perching, clad in an invisible
cloak, while he traced upon the panes outlines
of the forest ferns and greenery that his touch
had withered.

The fire crackled and blazed, and Tommy-Anne
sat in silence ; at last she whispered softly, "Yes,
I understand," and then added with a sigh, "But
the Magic Spectacles — I shall not wear them to-
morrow. Please tell me of what they are made?"

" You have used them well, Diana, and so you
may keep them as my Christmas gift, and by and
by you will share them with the brother, when in-
stead of calling you Tommy- Anne, people will say
Tommy and Anne. As to these spectacles, the
glasses are made of TRUTH, but the settings are
fashioned of a strange and precious metal that
House People, for lack of a better word, call
IMAGINATION ! "

" Mistress," said Waddles, " before I go to bed,
I'm going up stairs to see the other fellow who
owns my back legs. I think we shall be chums I "

THE SNOW OWL'S CHRISTMAS PARTY 143

" The Winds of Night ! the Winds of Night !
Who has work for us ? " called the voices outside
the window ; but as the fire flashed again, Sirius
gazed into an empty room, and Tommy-Anne kept
the anniversary of the Three Hearts by a little
cradle.

THE END

STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

WABENO THE MAGICIAN

THE HEART OF NATURE

BY

MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT

AUTHOR OF "STORIES OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS," "STORIES

OF BIRDS AND BEASTS," ETC., ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY JOSEPH M. GLEESON

SECOND BOOK

STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1906

All rights reserved

COPYRIGHT, 1899, 1904,
BY THE MACM1LLAN COMPANY.

Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1904. Reprinted
August, 1904.

New edition, in one volume, September, 1906.

WortoooU IPregg

J. S. Gushing & Co. — Ik-i-wick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.

CONTENTS

PAGE

I. THE DREAM Fox 1

IT. THE SIGNAL . . . , . . .18

III. THE MAN OF THE MOON 43

IV. WHAT THE COAL SAID TO THE KINDLING

WOOD .65

V. THE STORY OF BEK-WUK, THE ARROW . , 88
VI. WABENO'S GIFT Ill

GLOSSARY . 125

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FULL PAGE
Wabeno, the Magician Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

The Crow's Complaint 38

Wabeno's Kalendar ....... 55

The Arrow Maker 96

Wabeno in the Maize Field . 123

IN TEXT

PAGE

Anne and Waddles . 1

" He began to pull my tail " 5

"He threw my duck leg to Tiger" .... 7

The Dream Fox 17

Skunk Cabbages 18

Pussy Willows and Marsh Frogs 27

" Oh, Waddles, for shame ! " . . . . . .41

Clouds . 43

"I help the tides rise and fall" 56

The Old Moon in the New Moon's Arms 64

Viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

The Game of " Snatch Bone "...,. 65

The Voiceless Ones 74

The Ancient Jungle 80

Indian Arrow-heads ....... 88

Wenona's Cliff 94

" One day a girl came to the lodge " . . .99

The Stone Giants (from an Indian Drawing) . . 104
Maize, Barley, and Rice . . . . 0 ,111

Wheat, Rye, and Oats 118

Penaisee gathering Flowers 120

Tommy's Squash Geese ,, 124

Dr<?am pox

IT was the first week of March.
Time for the grass to be greening
along the edges of springy meadows,
for the Pussy-willows to stretch out
their silver-furred paws, time for
the cheerful little Marsh Frogs to tune up toward
sunseto But instead of these spring signs and
sounds, snow was falling around Happy Hall, as
it had done for two whole days, until the paths
were quite buried. Great drifts swept over the
violet frames, and clung to the woodshed roof.
The pines and spruces at the north of the house

2 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

shivered and bent their heads to the fierce wind ;
and a flock of newly arrived Robins huddled in the
hemlock hedge, wondering what had become of
their friend the Sun, who had given the signal for
their journey, half suspecting him of having
played them a shabby trick.

Tommy-Anne was sitting on a foxskin rug
before the fire in her bedroom, with no other
light besides what the logs yielded. She was
allowed a "go-to-bed" fire every chilly night,
and the fireplace was a frame in which she saw
wonderful pictures.

A great many things had happened since the
Christmas Eve four years before, when Waw-be-
ko-ko, the Snow Owl, came to the Christmas
party, and Tommy-Anne halved her name with the
little brother. People often called her Tommy-
Anne still, in spite of the fact that Tommy was a
sturdy little chap, strutting about proudly in his
first knickerbockers, and puckering his lips to
make his very first whistle.

In fact, this double name caused great confu-
sion in the house until the day when Tommy-
Anne took matters into her own hands, saying,
" I can climb better than ever, because my arms
are longer ; I ask as many questions, and I'm
only just beginning to understand a few of the

THE DREAM FOX 3

whys. I like outdoors much better than in-
doors, and dogs better than cats and dolls; but,
as I'm a girl, I want to be called by a girl's name,
so please, father-mother, call me Anne. Then,
perhaps, by and by when I grow up and have to
wear long skirts and turn up my hair and tread
on every step of the stairs and always go through
gates, I may like to be called my whole name,
Diana, after the hunting lady with the young
moon on her head."

Meanwhile Waddles had been growing into
quite a sober, middle-aged dog, with many affairs
of his own and even troubles to attend to —
troubles that he considered far worse than Aunt
Prue's broom or his old enemy, the Miller's cat,
for Aunt Prue did not live at the house now that
Anne's mother was quite well and strong again,
and the Miller's cat had one lame front paw, and
seldom dared dogs to fight with her.

Waddles' first grievance was that he could not
take his usual naps in the study scrap-basket, as
Tommy kept his blocks in the comfortable old
one, while the new one was high and tipped over
easily, in addition to being made of rough, prickly
straw. This was a slight grievance, however,
beside other things ; and as Waddles walked
slowly up stairs, and along the hall to Anne's

4 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

door, that snowy March evening, his heart was
very heavy indeed. "As like as not she has
gone to bed," he whimpered to himself, "and I
shall have to wait another day to tell her."

As she heard the patter of his feet outside, Anne
started, put a fresh log on the fire, saying, " How
can I ever tell him ? " Waddles nosed the door
open, but only enough to squeeze his plump body
through, and then pulled it as nearly shut as he
could with his paw, for what he had to say to his
mistress was for her ear alone. To be sure Tommy
was supposed to be in bed, but then he was always
turning up unexpectedly. Waddles snuggled up
to his mistress, who began smoothing out his
velvety ears after her old habit. He was tempted
to curl up and go to sleep ; but no, he must not.
So he sighed, turned his head on one side, and
gazed first at the fire and then at Anne, with a
most pathetic expression in his soft brown eyes.

Anne clasped her hands around her knees and
returned the look, thinking in perplexity, "How
can I break the news to him?"

" Mistress," said Waddles after a while, as Anne
was beginning to be interested in an angry dis-
pute in the chimney between the wind that wished
to come down and the smoke that was struggling
to go up, "I'm very unhappy and it is partly

THE DREAM FOX 5

your fault, too, though I'm sure you never meant
it. Do you remember the night when Tommy
came and you were so pleased that you turned
reckless and began giving him tilings ? First you
gave him half your name, then you gave him half
of rne — the back leg half, so that I could 'wag
my tail to amuse him,' you said.

" At first it worked very well ; he didn't say
much of anything, and I could go up and sleep in
your mother's nice warm room where his crib was,
whenever I pleased. When the warm weather
came I followed his coach to all the cool shady
places. Then, after a while, he took an interest
in my tail and used to shout and give me crusts
of bread to make me wag it. Of course I only
took the crusts out of politeness, for you know I
never eat them.

"Pretty soon after this, when he could run
about, he began to pull my tail and sometimes

GLEE

6 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

trample on my ears, when I lay stretched out
asleep. Still I did not whimper or complain
because he wore girls' clothes and had such puppy
ways, but since he has worn those pantikins I can
bear no more. He wants to wag my tail. The
other day he tied a string to it. He wishes me to
run races with him directly after my dinner, and
go to sleep under his chair at breakfast when the
Earth has so much news to tell me, and perhaps
there are tracks of a Weasel or Scent Cat all
around the barn. Then twice he has shut me in
the woodhouse just as you whistled.

u My patience ended yesterday. You know the
duck leg your father gave me after dinner ? To
be sure it was a trifle tough, but otherwise good
eating, so I thought that I would bury it awhile
to ripen. I had barely laid it down, to look for a
place where I could scratch a hole, when I saw
Tiger slinking down the orchard wall looking
narrow and sly as ever. I growled — he stopped.
Then Tommy ran up and called, 4 Turn here, thin
cat, here's a dood bone fatty Waddles tant eat,'
arid he threw my duck leg to Tiger.

" For a minute I meant to run away, down to
the Horse Farm, for they say that a woman lives
there who is very good to dogs, but we've been
friends so long, and you wear the Magic Spectacles

THE DREAM FOX 7

and know my language, that I couldn't go without
telling you, so please, mistress, take back my hind
legs and let me all belong to you again," and Wad-
dles raised his head and bayed dismally to hide the
fact that he was nearly crying.

" You dear old Waddlekins ! " cried Anne,
standing him up before her until their noses met.

"Of course I'll take you back, for I've often
missed you dreadfully when I've been for long
walks and had to leave you behind because Tommy
wanted you. Yet when Obi offered to get me one
of the pretty spaniels from the Horse Farm, I
could not bear to let another dog take your place.
But we must be patient with little brother, because
you know the Three Hearts have given him to us
to take care of until he can see through the Magic

8 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

Spectacles himself. Father says, he is a responsi-
bility — the first real one I've ever had. Do you
know what that means ? Well, it is this way.

" Before Tommy came, if I was careless about
anything like getting my feet sopping wet, tearing
my frocks and forgetting about meal times, I had
wet feet, or scratched arms, or felt hungry, but
that was all. Now, if I do these things and
Tommy sees me and does them too, I'm responsi-
ble for him, do you see? So responsibility is a
thing that makes you mind what you do and isn't
altogether comfortable. Waddles love, I might as
well tell you first as last, — you are going to have
a responsibility too. A new dog is coming to live
here to-morrow, or next day, or whenever the
snow stops. You will have to help train him and
teach him to be neat and eat his food off his plate
and sit on his own mat, and not get up on the sofas,
or lie down or dig in mother's flower beds, besides
all the other things you've learned."

" A new dog here ! " yelped Waddles, bristling
and springing up as quickly as if some one had
cried, " cat " or " rat." " Missy, only a minute
ago you said that you didn't take one of those
polite little spaniels that Obi offered you because
you loved me so; and now — to think of it — a
strange dog coming ! I'll go out in the snow and

THE DREAM FOX 9

have one more fight with Tiger to get even about
the duck leg, and then I don't care — what —
becomes — of — me!" and Waddles crept toward
the door with drooping head and tail, all his
fierceness having vanished.

" Come back, you poor dear," called Anne, "you
haven't heard but half ! " Then, as he did not
move very quickly, she half lifted, half dragged,
him back to the foxskin.

"Now look me straight in the face, Waddles,
for you've got two of the very worst of the Puk-
Wudjies living in your head, — Sus-Picion and
Jea-Lousy. Father says, c Did-not-Think ' and
4 Did-not-Mean-To ' don't begin to make as much
trouble as they do.

" In the first place, the new dog is not for me, it
is for Tommy. It is only a bit of a four-months-
old puppy dog that will like to run and play.
Father wants him to grow up with Tommy, so that
they will love each other as we do. Then you see,
you and I can stay together all the time as we
used to. This dog's mother lives at the Horse
Farm, and is one of Miss Jule's very best big
St. Bernards — the big strong kind that, in the
cold country where they come from, can dig
out people that are buried in the snow. As for
being strange, why, you know that all Miss Jule's

10 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

animals are as friendly as they can be. So now,
give me a nice little kiss on the ear, and as a great
treat you shall sleep on my bed in a nest made of
the afghan. Come, jump up, I hear mother on the
stairs and she won't kiss us good-night, you know,
unless we are quite in bed."

"The Winds of Night, the Winds of Night;
let us in for we are cold," wailed the voices out-
side the window, where the sleety snow coated the
panes.

" Is that you, Kabibonokka ? " whispered Anne,
as she drew the eider-down quilt up to her chin.
" What business has the north wind here when it
ought to be spring ? Mother has bought all her
flower seeds and Obi would have made the hot-bed
for them yesterday if you hadn't brought this snow
back to bury everything. How do things get so
mixed? What made you come back? Last week
I saw a bee in the violet frame. I wonder if he
expected to find the Flower Market open, and what
became of the message he was carrying ? Perhaps
it froze ! Do you think a message could freeze,
Kabibonokka? And I wonder what has become
of Heart of Nature now that all his garden is dead
and buried. Perhaps he has gone, to sleep the
winter sleep, like the Woodchuck."

THE DREAM FOX 11

" Heart of Nature never sleeps, and work in his
garden never ceases," answered a Voice from be-
side the hearthstone. " I have been abroad all day
working to protect my own and soon I go out
again. The Plan directs the seasons and marks
their courses, but rebellious forces strive and
wrestle for the mastery and make delay and
havoc.

" A vagrant voice called Kabibonokka from the
north. Quickly I bade the snows descend and
shield the earth from his rude breath. To-morrow,
if he leaves, Shawondasee will come and help me
gather up the snow again. Meanwhile I whisper
to the Coon, ' Keep close in your tree hole.' To
Crow and Jay, ' Stay well within the cedars lest
your eyeballs freeze.' To Quail and Grouse, sur-
rounded in the stubble, 4Dive in the snow blanket,
lest you perish.' To the Eel beneath the ice,
4 Begin your journey down the river to your spring
sea chambers before the ice gates lift.' As to the
grass and plants and trees, snow dulls their ears,
they hear nothing, and their sap lies cold and still
and safe."

" I'm so glad you've come back ! " cried Anne,
sitting up in bed and clasping her hands. " You
don't come to see me often, now that Tommy is
about so much and I have to stay indoors and do

12 STORIED OF EARTH AND SKY

my lessons. How is that, dear Heart of Nature,
for there are so many ivhys that need answers that
I'm sure I've forgotten half of them?"

" Anne, do you remember the password in the
land of the Three Hearts ? "

" Brotherhood ! " said Anne, promptly.

" Yes, brotherhood — an equal sharing. You
must listen to each of the Three Hearts if you
would understand the Plan. I have but given
Heart of Man his turn."

" Of- course, lessons and books and people mean
Heart of Man, but, dear Tree Man, please tell me
why do things ever mix up and Winter and Spring
interfere, and some animals eat others, and all
that? Why does the Plan allow it, and where
are all the things that you are never sure whether
you have seen or only dreamed ? "

" The Plan fixes its laws of birth, growth, and
death, the beginning and the end ; between these
heat and cold, wind, water, tempest and calm, all
contend for mastery, and when House People speak
of haphazard and mysterious cross-purposes, you
know they mean — "

" Wabeno, the Magician ! " cried a shrill voice
in the chimney. " Wabeno, the Magician ! "
echoed a calmer voice at the keyhole. Anne
rubbed her eyes and looked about very much

THE DREAM FOX 13

puzzled. She had not quite caught Heart of
Nature's meaning, perhaps because she was sleepy,
but those voices, surely they belonged to Kabibo-
nokka and Mudjekeewis. What could the North
and West Winds be doing there at the same time ?

She slipped out upon the foxskin rug to listen,
pulling the down quilt after her.

" Who is Wabeno, the Magician, and where
does he live?" she whispered. "Does he belong
to the Brotherhood of Beasts, or what? Creep
into the chimney, Winds of Night ; for though I
may not let you in the window, you can come
quite near, for the fire is low."

" Do you speak, Kabibonokka, while I get my
breath," said Mudjekeewis, panting. " Ah ! the
distance I have come to-day from heat and sand
and summer to this snow, simply because Wabeno
gave his signal."

Anne was going to speak impatiently, and then
stopped herself, for Kabibonokka said : " Before
man walked the earth, nothing asked why about
anything. What came, came; what went, went
all unquestioned. When the Red Brothers ar-
rived (the first men we ever met in these lands),
'why' was the very first word they said. For
many things they could find no reasons, because
they did not understand the Three Hearts and

14 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

their language; so every strange thing that befell,
they laid to Wabeno, the Magician.

" He was born in Wabun Annung, the Morning
Star, or so they said, and of the race of Wenona,
whom the Robins and Bluebirds loved so well.
A warrior was he, young and strong and beauti-
ful, yet no one had clearly seen his face, for a
leafy mask half hid it. He had no wigwam, any
tree trunk was his home. He carried no bow or
spear, and Kavv-kaw, the far-seeing Raven, perched
on his brow for a head-dress, its eyes shooting
lightning bolts. Thunder boomed from his magic
drum if he struck it fiercely, but at a gentle touch
it yielded a note like the feathered drumming of
the Ruffed Grouse, and he sang a call that all
must answer.

"'Hear my drum, hear my drum, you who
dwell across the earth ! Hear my drum ! I am
Wabeno ! This is my work ! '

" Then following, sometimes in leash and some-
times free, came his faithful Wagoose, the Dream
Fox, with his shadowy pack and his book of won-
drous fading pictures.

"When the Red Brothers heard Wabeno and
his train, they closed their eyes tightly, for only the
mind's eye may see him unblinded ; while to sleep-
closed eyes alone will the Dream Fox show his

THE DREAM FOX 15

picture-book, and lead the sleepers long journeys
through strange countries all in a minute.

" Two days ago I, Kabibonokka, was travelling
northward with Wabasso, the White Rabbit, and
between us we led Winter, who walked with lin-
gering tread. Suddenly I heard a signal to re-
turn, and I came, calling among the trees to the
Winds of Night to learn who had work for us ;
but there was no work, and so we wrought mis-
chief, and troubled Heart of Nature, who dropped
the snow to keep me from his garden. Who, then,
could have called us but Wabeno?"

" And I," cried Mudjekeewis, " I was lingering
in the southwest country, where the cactus walls
the sand-heaps, and the century plant already
shows the buds of its April flowers. I heard a
signal and I came, only to find it Winter. Who
called me but Wabeno?"

" Winds of Night, idle Winds of Night, I have
work for you, though you came at another's bid-
ding," called Heart of Nature. " Go up and tear
the veils from the stars and polish them bright,
and help the young moon to find her pathway
down the western sky; pluck the dead branches
from the^ tree tops, scatter the last clinging seeds ;
then cease, for I have much to plan and set in
order before morning."

16 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

"Mistress," called Waddles, waking up with a
whimper and finding the bed empty, " mistress, do
come to sleep. I'm fairly shivering, and the
wind is coining in at every crack until my hair
stands on end. Don't you see the fire is nearly
out? You will have a snuffle cold, and then we
shall have to stay in the house for days and
days ! "

" What did you say, Waddlekiris ? Ah, yes, the
fire is low and there is no more wood in the bas-
ket," said Anne, stumbling back to bed. " Why,
the stars and moon are out, it must have stopped
snowing ! How the winds whistle and scold ;
if I could only understand all the things they
say. Ah ! how I wish the Dream Fox would
show me his picture-book.

" Why, there he comes ! The rug fox must have
been a Dream Fox when he was alive ! The pic-
ture-book — too! The poor old blind Crow up in
the woods — and the Bob- whites — all — asleep —
under — the — snow. I'll get Obi to take them

— some — food — to-morrow, and we — will help

— Heart of Nature — dig — out — his — g-a-r-d-e-n,
and — begin — his — "

Footsteps crossed the hall below and came rap-
idly up the stairs.

" It is nothing, dear," said Anne's father to her

THE DREAM FOX

17

mother, looking in at the door. " I thought the
child was at her old trick of playing Owl and look-
ing out the window in the dark but she was only
talking in her sleep."

II

could make

HE March moon was
at the full before
the Pussy-willows
and Alder catkins
their minds to be-
lieve that winter had really gone, and trust their
plumes to Keewaydin's rough handling. For the
clear cold Northwest Wind reigned among the
gray branches, played touch-about with Mudje-
keewis whenever he passed by, and blustered and
scolded at such a rate that gentle Shawondasee
did not even venture to whisper for days together.

18

THE SIGNAL 19

A night came, however, when an hour before
sunset the winds' voices had altogether ceased,
a mellow glow spread over the slowly greening
lowlands and bare hillsides, Red-winged Black-
birds gave their juicy call from afar, Bluebirds
were about the barn, many Song-Sparrows sang
cheerfully from garden arid roadside, while a
very plump bright-breasted Robin actually spied
the first delicious earthworm of the season.

" Listen, how the frogs are peeping ! " said
Anne to Tommy, as they walked up from the
barn after a visit to some very new fluffy
chickens. "Don't you want to come down in
the meadows and see if we can find some of the
tiny little frogs ? The Doctor says they are as
cute, as can be."

"No, I don't care for frogs," replied Tommy,
with a quiver in his voice ; " I care for dogs and
they — don't — like — me. Father said — he said
Lumberlegs was to be my very own, to play
with me and everything ; but he isn't mine
one bit — not even his name. You and Obi
named him before he came, and it's a dreadful,
horrid name, and he is a horrid dog, and he won't
stay with me, and he's too big. To-day he
walked on my new soldiers and bent all their
legs, and I wish father would send him away. "

20 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

By this time the tears began to peep out of the
corners of a pair of very big brown eyes.

Anne knelt down by Tommy and drew him
close to her, for she did not know exactly what
else to do. What he said was perfectly true,
for though both Waddles and Lumberlegs treated
Tommy with great politeness, they would have
nothing to do with him.

" Come with me and look for frogs, and to-
night I'll ask father to take you where they
sell little dogs and let you choose one for your-
self. But I don't think we will send Lumber-
legs back to Miss Jule, because he was a present,
and it isn't polite to return presents ; besides,
Waddles has adopted him for his child and is
taking great pains to train him.

" Won't that be nice to have a little dog, just
as little as you please ? "

"Y-e-s," hesitated Tommy, blinking back his
tears ; " but not such a very little dog either —
'bout big enough to kill rats.

"There is Baldy going down the road to the
mill to bring up the feed. Please help me call
him, Anne ; mother said I might ride down with
him and buy six banty eggs of the Miller to set
under the big brown hen, and I've got the
money sewed into my pocket."

THE SIGNAL 21

" Baldy ! B-a-1-d-y ! " The horses stopped and
Tommy was pulled up over the tailboard and
went bumping happily down the road in the
springless box wagon, while the question of dogs
was forgotten for a time.

"Baldy won't be back for at least an hour,
so I might as well go and look for the frogs by
myself," thought Anne, whistling to Waddles,
who was taking a sun-bath under the glass of
one of the violet frames, and came out looking
very guilty.

"Now, Waddles, aren't you ashamed of your-
self," said his mistress, severely, "after all I've
said to you about being a good example to
Lumberlegs ? What if he should go and take
a nap in among the violets or new lettuce, and
then when he was scolded say, 4 Why not, I saw
Waddles do it?'

"Where is Lumberlegs? You don't know?
Very well, I'll excuse you this time, and you
may come down to the old spring meadow with
me, but remember no sniffing about and baying
at Rabbits. I'm looking for peeping frogs, and
by the way they sound I should think there
must be thousands of them."

Waddles trotted solemnly after Anne, looking
over his shoulder rather nervously from time to

22 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

time, until they were well out of sight of the
house.

" Sphee-phee-phee-sphee ! " chanted the chorus
of frogs, directly ahead of Anne, where bushes
of all kinds marked the bed of a sluggish water-
course that was entirely hidden here and there
by mats of last year's cat-tail flags.

Anne picked her way carefully, stepping on
sedge tussocks and partly decayed logs, stop-
ping now and then to pick an especially pretty
wand of Pussy-willows. She slipped once, and
trod upon something that crushed with a crisp
noise, which was followed by a most disagreeable
odor.

" Dearie me," said Anne aloud, " I wonder if
I've trodden on a bad egg ; but how did it come
here? No, it isn't an eggy smell either; it's more
like a Scent Cat."

" You have smashed one of my brothers," said a
voice choking with anger. As Anne hopped to
another tussock and looked down she saw a
curious looking plant peering up from the wet
leaf mould. A thick purple and green mottled,
pointed hood partly hid, not a queer little goblin
face, as Anne half expected, but instead enfolded
a thick fleshy spike, powdered here and there with
yellow pollen. Not a leaf was in sight, though

THE SIGNAL 23

some tiny green rolls were piercing the ground,
close to the hood, which might be leaves later on.

" I suppose you must be a plant, thougli I'm
sure I've never seen you before," said Anne,
apologetically ; " but I've never been down here
quite so early." Then after stopping to think a
moment, she brightened up and asked: "Have you
anything to do with those tufts of big green leaves
that I've often found here in May, and later they
have bunches of hard berries ? Those plants do
really look something like cabbages."

"Jam the flower; those green tufts are the
leaves, and the berries are the seeds. A very
handsome flower I am, too, don't you think, even
if you do not appreciate my perfume ? "

" You — are so far down in the ground that —
that — I can't see you — so very well," stammered
Anne, wishing to be truthful, and at the same
time polite.

" May I pick one of your family ? I see that
there are a great many of them about besides the
one that I hurt."

" No, you may not ; we are not to be handled
and made into bouquets like common flowers ; we
lose our attraction when we leave home. We
belong to a very exclusive and aristocratic family;
it counts among its members the hothouse Calla

24 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

Lily and the giant-leaved Caladiums that House
People are proud to plant in beds upon their
lawns. Besides these there are other brothers of
the home swamps, — the pale wild Calla, the Golden
Club, and the Sweet Flag. Why, that pert young
fellow, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, is my very first cousin."

" How interesting," said Anne, trying to re-
member all the names ; " Jack-in-the-Pulpit is a
great friend of mine. We have some lovely
Callas in the study window, too, and I can see
that your flowers are shaped something like theirs.
But the Calla leaves grow first and then the
flowers, while your flower comes up first. Why is
that?"

" Listen, House Child. To us belongs a very
great honour. We open the Flower Market ; we
are the very first blossoms in it ; we give the Bees
messages to carry and something to pack in the
seed-lunch baskets even before Pussy-willow has
offered her grains of precious life dust.

" To be first in the Flower Market we must not
waste time in growing leaves. We prepare for our
blooming far back in the old year. In autumn,
even, our flower buds are fashioned and hidden
down beneath the ground. This purple hood is
not the flower ; the flowers are huddled on the
fleshy spike within, close to the seed-lunch

THE SIGNAL 25

baskets. Heart of Nature made the hood to
keep all warm, lest Shawondasee calls out of
season, and we peep out only to be rebuked by
Kabibonokka.

" Heart of Nature was wise ; we often peep out,
lured by a warm winter day, and Peboan tramples
us down. Sometimes I have been rash, and boldly
pushed up my head in February, but it was useless
— one flcr./er cannot make a market, and no Butter-
flies came for messages."

"About your perfume," asked Anne, hesitat-
ingly. " Why is that so queer — I mean so dif-
ferent from — from other flowers, and have you
any name ? "

" Our perfume truly is very rare and strong
It is made so, to direct the early Bees and insects
to us without loss of time. The Red Brothers
give us a lovely name, Chi-kaug Flower, and in
the wild countries the big bears consider us a
most delicious spring salad."

" Why, then, your plain name must be Skunk
Cabbage, and you are the flower that the Milk-
weed Monarch told me about years ago, for Chi-
kaug was the Red Brothers' name for Skunk.
The Monarch said that you are always the very
first flower to bloom." As the Cabbage did not
reply, she continued rather indiscreetly: —

26 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" Some very early flowers have beautiful leaves
and a lovely perfume, too. The Trailing Arbutus
up on Wild Cat Mountain, for instance, and the
dear little blue Hepaticas in my woods above the
orchard."

" Humph, House Child, it does not need Magic
Spectacles to see that those are last year's
leaves that you are speaking of; the new leaves
follow the bloom with both those flowers. The
great trees like Maples, Elms, Birches, and Wil-
lows all flower before their leaves come out."

" I don't think I've noticed any real flowers on
those trees — only sort of queer looking little
tassels and things."

"No matter how a thing looks, House Child,"
said the Chi-kaug Flower, fiercely, " everything is
really a flower that has a seed-lunch basket and
precious dust to fill it with. That is the impor-
tant part. Heart of Nature gave flowers pretty
coloured petals and perfume, to remind the Bees
and Butterflies to do their work in the Flower
Market. I wish you would go away ; I'm sure
I hear a Bee buzzing, though those horrid little
frogs make such a noise that I'm nearly deaf, and
if you are here the Bee will surely overlook me."

Anne skipped over the tussocks almost as
quickly as a frog might, and then called Waddles,

THE SIGNAL

27

who was standing on three legs with his
tail straight out, " pointing " in the most
approved fashion.

" I can hear the frogs everywhere, but
the question is, where
are they ? Can you
see them,
Waddle-
kins ? "

• I smell them every-
where, mistress ; but as they hop
instead of walk, their trails are mixed
and crooked."

" Why not look straight in front of
your nose?" piped a tiny voice, as an
alder bush brushed Anne's face. There,
to be sure, almost on the end, perched
a wee yellowish-brown frog not more than
i an inch long, with bulging eyes and a
quivering throat.

"Yes, here I am, though most of my
brothers are down there in the water
with only enough of their noses out to

28 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

keep their voices from drowning," said the frog,
swelling his throat like a balloon.

" Sphee-phee-phee-sphee," chirped a hundred
little voices.

" I'm delighted to see you," said Anne, cor-
dially ; " are you one of Dahinda's very young
children? Do you know I haven't seen or heard
of that great frog since last summer ; where did
he spend the winter ? "

" Dahinda, the Bull Frog ? Oh, he stays down
in the mud all winter as we do. We do not
belong to his family, however ; he is a common
Water Frog, — a lonely sort of a fellow, — while
we are Tree Frogs, — sociable little chaps, and
much more graceful. We have suckers on the
ends of our fingers and toes to help us to climb, so
we can walk up window-panes even, without slip-
ping. In summer we may leave the marshes and
go travelling about the trees and gardens, wher-
ever we please. Look ! " and the frog held out
one of his hands so that Anne could see the
" suckers " that looked like hollow blisters upon
the ends of his webbed fingers.

" What do you think, one member of our family
that lives in a far-off hot country has such big
feet that he uses them for wings, and flies."

"Really truly?" gasped Anne.

THE SIGNAL 29

" Yes, really truly ; you see, as I told you, we
are very superior frogs," — and the pygmy cleared
his throat and joined the chorus for a moment,
merely to prove that he could.

" All the marsh things seem to be very proud of
themselves," thought Anne, but she only said : —

" What is your name ? I suppose you must
have one."

" Yes, certainly ; my name is Hyla Pickering.
Hyla is the family name, but when Flowers,
Beasts, and Birds are given high sounding names,
the last is always put first. I have a cousin who
doesn't begin to sing so early in the spring, and
though he isn't nearly as handsome as I am, what
do you suppose he can do?"

"Jump a hundred feet at once," guessed Anne.

" No, he can turn any colour he pleases. If he
sits on a gray mossy stone, he can look gray and
mossy ; if he goes on a fresh green plant, he turns
green ; and if he wishes to go to sleep on a branch
with a mottled bark, he can grow mottled. So
his name is Hyla Change-colour."

" How wonderful ! " exclaimed Anne, forgetting
where she was, and nearly stepping into the water.

" Heart of Nature lets him do this so that his
enemies may not see him, also that he may catch
his own food unseen."

30 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" What do frogs eat ? "

" All kinds of meat and game ; we like animal
food."

" Meat ? Game ? "

" Yes, flies, insects, and such things ; and the big
water frogs, like Dahinda, eat little ducks and
lizards, snakes, mice — almost everything. In
fact, Dahinda and his tribe are sometimes canni-
bal frogs.

" We are more dainty, and when we come up to
your garden in summer, or you hear us calling for
rain in the trees on the lawn, you needn't be
afraid of us and throw stones into the trees, for
we only do good."

" I thought the things in the trees were Tree
Toads. Do you belong to the Toad Family ? "

" No, indeed ; they are clumsy, ugly things, with
short hind legs ; they cannot leap as we do, and
their hands and feet are not made webbed for
swimming. Their skins are thick and warty and
full of sour juice ; some of them are fine singers
though, and they are great bug catchers."

" Please, Mr. Hyla Pickering, won't you tell me
how a tree frog can change colour? "

" Ask Wabeno, the Magician," whispered a
voice from the thin mist that was rising from the
ground.

THE SIGNAL 31

There was no wind, and for a moment Anne was
puzzled.

" Ask Wabeno. Heart of Nature may not tell
House People all the secrets of his garden, lest
they grow too wise. Go up out of the lowlands,
Anne ; the evening mists are only good for Frogs,
Will-o'-the-Wisp, and Jack-o'-Lantern."

" Oh please, stop a minute, dear Heart of Nature,
and tell me if Wabeno is a really truly."

" Why not ask Wabeno himself ? " said the sil-
very voice, rippling off to start the spring planting
in the garden of wood and wayside, and give the
Meadow-lark the key for the first notes of his
spring song.

Waddles had walked uphill toward the light
woods by the old barn, stopping every few
minutes to point. Anne followed him, looking
carefully, as there seemed to be something of a
commotion going on in among the trees. Chip-
munks and Gray and Red Squirrels were chatter-
ing, Rabbits hopped and scurried everywhere. A
great Crow perched on a dead hickory branch,
talking in a quavering voice to some Purple
Grackles and Red-winged Blackbirds, and a beau-
tiful Ruffed Grouse stood erect upon a stump, his
feet braced firmly and his wing raised.

"What can be going on?" said Anne, half

32 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

aloud. "It will be full moon to-night, I heard
father say, and I wonder if there is to be a spring
Forest Circus. If there is, I can't see it, because
little Oo-oo, the Screech Owl, said a House Per-
son can never go to this Circus but once."

" Mistress," whispered Waddles, " don't you see
those lovely Rabbits? I haven't had a good run
since before the great snow, — mayn't I take one
now?" and Waddles gave a little bay of sup-
pressed emotion.

" Hush ! yes, run anywhere you like, away from
here. There goes a big Rabbit downhill," said
Anne, well knowing that Bunnie would have a
perfectly safe start of the hound.

" What is all this about ; is there to be a party
here?" asked Anne of Adjidaumo, the Red Squir-
rel, who kept dropping hickory-nut shells on her
head.

" It's the first event of the year for the Bird,
Beast, and Flower Brothers," explained Adjidau-
mo, stopping to turn a nut in his paws as his teeth
sought the best spot for gnawing.

" Yes," said Anne, eagerly ; " what is it called,
and what happens ? "

" It's called the Gathering of the Clans, and
the Ruffed Grouse gives the Spring Signal,"
whispered the Squirrel.

THE SIGNAL 33

" This is the first night since the Brush Bea-
cons burned that the Brotherhood of Beasts
have all been awake and keen for hunting ; and
though there are few birds as yet, there are
enough to make the meeting legal."

" Legal I what do you mean ? "

" House Child," said Heart of Nature's voice,
" dofc you know what day this is ? "

"It's the twenty-first of March," said Anne,
promptly, " and the slip on mother's Wordsworth
calendar said, —

" « Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,1

and it has."

" Yes, the twenty-first of March, the Vernal
Equinox. According to the Plan, on this day my
earth garden locks the back door on winter and
opens the front door to welcome spring. Alas, in
some parts of my garden she gets but a cold
greeting. Still the Wild Clans remember, and
at least a Beast, a Bird, a Flower, always answer
my call."

Just then there was a great fluttering among
the birds. There were any number of Robins
and Bluebirds, Meadow-larks and Grackles, con-
stantly arriving, and chattering to those who
had stayed about all winter. A fine pair of

34 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

Hawks held themselves rather aloof, while
Little Oo-oo blinked solemnly from his home
tree-hole. Bob-white ran out from the leaves,
but without whistling, and Anne could see the
forms of many of the Brush Beacon Beasts
crouching behind rocks and trees. Small Wood-
peckers tapped, Chickadees whistled, and the big
Flicker laughed so loud that the Rabbits turned
somersaults downhill in fright. Evidently they
were all waiting for some one.

" Phee-bee,-phee-bee-a," called a faint voice.
Instantly every animal was alert. " Phee-bee,-
phee-bee-a," sounded again clearly overhead,
and in dashed a little brown Phoebe Bird, out
of breath, but otherwise quite well.

"Now by this sign the Clans declare the gar-
dens, the woods, and the fields are ready to
greet Spring. Listen to the Signal ! " called
the Ruffed Grouse, making a rapid, continuous
drumming noise in some mysterious manner
with his wings.

"How did he do that? I was looking right
at him and I can't tell," said Anne, turning to
Little Oo-oo, who, from not having much to
say, was thought to be very wise.

"How? Ask Wabeno, the Magician, for he
has lent Ruffle the very sound of his own drum."

THE SIGNAL 35

"Why do they think so much of the Phoebe,
Oo-oo? It isn't a rare bird."

"It is an insect eater, the first fly-catcher to
leave the Winter Birdland," said Heart of
Nature. " When it comes, we know that insect
wings are humming. The Phoebe, the Chip-
munk, and the Pussy-willow are my pledges to
my people ; not until the Clans see these will
they believe that winter is over."

Anne edged herself along nearer to the Ruffle,
the Grouse, who, to her great surprise, seemed
to know her and began to chat pleasantly.

" I don't remember having met you before,"
Anne said.

" Oh yes, you have, but you probably did not
recognize me, because that day I was in distress ;
my coat was all awry and I was lame and nearly
frozen."

" Are you the poor bird that Obi found frozen
to the snow, and that we took down to Miss
Jule? I often wondered if you felt quite right
again, and where you went."

" The very same, and if you'll come up beyond
the old barn sometime in May I will show you
my mate and family."

" Where is your mate now ? "

" Oh, somewhere about, waiting to be called,

36 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

when I am ready for housekeeping. It is the
rule in our family that females never speak until
they are spoken to."

" How can you call her ? I didn't know a
Grouse could sing."

" I drum for her, as you heard me drum just
now to proclaim it spring. We game birds love
martial music better than vocal; so I play the
drum, while Bob-white prefers the fife, and
friend Woodcock, who I see has just arrived
and is probing for worms over there near the
spring, has a little instrument of his own, half
fife and half flute, to which he dances."

" What became of Ko-ko-ko-ho after the storm ?
Did he find his wife, and did his wing grow
strong again ? "

" His wing was soon cured, but he is banished,
and I am to announce it to the Clan to-night
before the trial.

" After Crotalus, the Bad One, died, the Beast
and Bird Brotherhood lived quite happily here-
about for several years. Then complaints began
to pour in about Mr. and Mrs. Ko-ko-ko-ho.
They took two of my children last spring, and
five of Bob-white's covey. Mother Rabbit lost
more children, she said, than she could count ;
but as she always has more than she can take

TP1E SIGNAL 37

care of, and tries to board them free in her
neighbours' gardens, we did not care much about
her complaint.

" Some time ago the Ko-ko-ko-hos grew bold,
as you know, and took the Miller's pigeons ;
but when they finally went down and robbed
Miss Jule, our friend, we said they must be
banished. .Then those of us who live hereabout
all winter held a private council and gave Reddy
Fox charge of getting the pair away.

" When Ko-ko-ko-ho was hurt, the Fox imi-
tated his note as best he could and led Mrs.
Ko-ko-ko-ho a dance, off beyond Wild Cat Moun-
tain, for she was the ugliest one to deal with.
Then, after Ko-ko-ko-ho recovered, Reddy told
him where his wife had gone, and he went too.
So now they live in Rufus Lynx's own woods,
and if they do not earn an honest living there,
Rufus Lynx has promised to execute them.
And he never breaks his word!"

"Who is going to be tried, and what are all
those Crows making such a time about down in
the old cornfield ? "

" The Crows are to have a hearing. Last year,
at the anniversary of Cock Robin's funeral, there
were many complaints lodged against them as
nest robbers, and the smaller birds that build

38 STORIES OF EARTH A XI) SKY

in gardens and orchard trees wish all Crows to
be banished to the wild fields beyond the moun-
tain."

44 Why don't they come up to be heard then?"
asked Anne.

44 They are too cowardly ; that is one reason
why the Rulers of Birdland despise them so.
They are almost the only birds who. will leave
their young in times of danger. Then, too,
they sneak about and lie so. Only think, to-
day they have sent a poor old Crow, who had
one eye frozen in the storm, to plead for them,
instead of coining up in a body themselves."

44 Hush ! the hearing is to begin," called little
Oo-oo, circling about, as the old crow hopped
feebly to a stump and cleared his throat.

44 1 am Kaw Ondaig, the lame-winged Crow
from the Cedar Swamp. I have been lame-
winged for many years, but now I'm one-eyed
also. In the great storm, I was too slow to fly
into the warm shelter of the old barn like the
other birds, and besides, I feared it was a trap,
so one of my eyeballs froze, and in thawing,
burst, and I am half blind.

44 You say my tribe are cowards. It is too
true, but those who are always chased always
run, so it comes by inheritance. Look at the

THE CROW'S COMPLAINT

THE SIGNAL 39

Rabbit Family. It is the same with them."
(At the word " Rabbit," all the bunnies dodged
into their holes.)

" You say we are cannibals. We are some-
times, but only in the nesting season, when we
crave fresh meat for our young. You say that
we are ugly, croaking things, dismal to look at.
So we are, but it L not easy to be cheerful and
pretty when a black dress is all that is allowed
us the year through.

" As for singing, we have voices and sing among
ourselves, yet others do not understand our songs.
When we think we are singing like Thrushes, it is
called croaking."

" I wonder how that can be ? " queried Anne,
aloud.

"Ask Wabeno, the Magician," answered Ondaig;
" Kaw-kaw, the Raven, rides upon his shoulder
and whispers in his ear. Kaw-kaw is jealous of
us, so ask Wabeno.

" May I sing you one song in behalf of my poor
tribe before they are condemned?" continued
Ondaig.

The Clan had decided what they meant to do,
but they gave Ondaig leave to sing, out of pity
to his misfortunes.

When he finished his quavering song, some of

40 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

the birds seemed quite affected, and after a little
consultation the Grouse drummed once more for
order, and announced : —

"This is our decision. As Crows are cannibals
and nuisances in the nesting and planting seasons,
though rather harmless the rest of the year, we
decree that those who wish to build nests must go
to the other side of Wild Cat Mountain and stay
until their cannibal season is over, while any others
may remain here, if they will never even roost in
a tree where there is a bird's nest ! Moreover, the
penalty for remaining here after to-day is to be
chased by House People, Hawks, and Kingbirds ! "

Ondaig flew off to carry the decree to his tribe,
who were so angry that they all flew to beating
him as if he were to blame. In fact, the poor
Crow would probably have lost his remaining eye
if it had not been for Zoah, the Red-tailed Hawk,
who swooped down and dispersed the crowd, which
clattered off, leaving Kaw Ondaig and another
cripple behind, as the only two who did not wish
to build nests.

"Go down to Miss Jule's and she will let you
live about the barns," called Anne ; so the two
old bachelor Crows flopped off, and any day you
may see them walking contentedly in and out of
the granary at the Horse Farm.

THE SIGNAL

41

The sun was almost setting
when Anne remem-
bered Waddles. He
was returning from his chase
with something fluffy in his
mouth, which, a moment after, he
laid at Anne's feet.

"That is all of the Rabbit I
could bring you, missy ; I didn't
eat a scrap, — it ran so fast," he
panted.

Anne picked up the bit of fur ; it
was poor Bunnie's white-lined tail.
"Oh, Waddles, for
shame ! how could
you ? " scolded Anne,
stamping her foot. " It
isn't fair hunting man-
ners to bite tails off."

" 1 didn't bite it,
missy; I only tried
to persuade the

42 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

Rabbit backward out of his hole by it, and the
tail moulted right off, the way the rooster's tail
did, when you caught him last summer."

" Oh, Waddlekins," laughed Anne, shaking
her finger at him, "you are growing young and
sly again, and I don't half think you are a proper
person to have adopted Lumberlegs."

As they left the wood with the setting sun
behind them and turned toward Happy Hall, the
great silvery moon was rolling its disk above the
opposite end of the road.

" There is the moon before sunset and as large
as life," said Anne ; " yet it doesn't look like any-
thing while the sun is about. I wonder — if
there ever was a man-in-the-moon and if there are
any people there now ? "

" Hush, don't speak to me now," said a faint
voice slipping down the moonbeams. " Day is
not my time for answering questions. I'm not
allowed to speak while the sun is up, but if you
will leave your blind up, I'm due round by your
window by eight o'clock, and then I may stop a
bit and chat. The night is my day, so the Red
Brothers called me Dibik Gheezis, the night sun.

21NNE found some difficulty in keeping

her appointment with the moon that evening. In
the first place Tommy begged that she would put
him to bed and "make him a story." It took a
long time to tell about the frogs and the rabbit
tail, and Tommy grew so excited about the latter
that he tried to make Anne promise to find the
poor hurt Bunnie next day and fasten its tail on
again, with some of the rubber sticking-plaster
the Doctor had given her.

Then when Anne finally reached her room her
mother came up for a bedtime talk, and so it was
half-past eight before the lamp was put out and
she pulled up the shade to let in the moonlight.

43

44 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

By this time the Moon had passed the farther
window and was peeping in at the one nearest
her bed.

44 You had better go into bed and be quite com-
fortable," said the voice that came down the
moonbeams ; "my story is rather a long one and
you will be cold sitting there on the floor, for my
rays cannot give you warmth as the sun's do."
The voice was perfectly distinct, and yet it
sounded very far off and cool, like wind that had
blown over an icy mountain.

" It's very strange," thought Anne, " that I can
understand what the Moon says. It isn't a
near-by thing, it doesn't belong to the Flower
Market or the Brotherhood of Beasts or Birds,
and it certainly doesn't do any work for Heart of
Nature. I wonder to what family it belongs ? "

"The Winds of Night, the Winds of Night,
who has work for us," whispered the familiar
voices in the chimney, and, as if at their call, a
flock of gray silver-edged clouds trooped past the
moon, casting shadows on the floor.

44 Mudjekeewis, is that you ? You who go
everywhere and fly far above the earth when you
drive your cloud horses, have you ever been to
the Moon ? Perhaps you keep your chariots
there."

THE MAN OF THE MOON 45

" I never go so far from this earth garden,
House Child ; round and round we winds go,
over oceans and plains, over mountain tops that
are almost buried in the sky ; but the Plan directs
that we never leave the earth altogether, lest we
lose ourselves in the great unknown, that House
People call space."

" What are you and the other winds made of,
Mudjekeewis ? I can feel your touch and see the
work you have done, and yet I have never really
seen you yourselves."

"We winds are merely the air in a hurry, —
the air that is the breath of the warm-hearted
earth and clings about her so that in their turn
the Brotherhoods of Flower, Bird, and Beast may
breathe it, and so live. When this breath of life
is quiet, it is called air. House People say, ' Open
the window and let in the air ; ' but when the air
is restless, in a hurry, and rushes along, they say,
4 The wind is blowing.' Look up at those clouds
that graze like sheep far off in the sky pasture.
See, ice crystals hang to their fleece ; it is the
North Wind that drives them along."

" House Child," interrupted the Moon, " do not
give ear to the idle words of the winds, for they
have no beginning and no end ; when one brother
sleeps the other wakens. The day of Dibik

46 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

Gheezis, the Night Sun, is brief, and Weeng, the
Sleep Spirit, is ever wrestling with him for pos-
session of it. Ask what you wish to know
quickly, lest Weeng touches your eyelids with his
fingers."

" I'd like very much to know exactly what you
are, and — and — and all the whys — everything
about you — and if there are any people living on
you ? "

" If you wish to know who I am, it is easily
told — more easily than what I was, for that is a
mystery. I am a thing of the past, a back num-
ber. A desolate, worn-out, cold-hearted sort of
an earth, destitute of everything. I am out of
heat, water, air, and people.

" I'm not even the Moon, as people on your
Earth call me, but only a moon dancing attendance
on my little earth as many other moons escort
their earths here in Skyland, in the endless race
around the Sun. I have always been accustomed
to playing second fiddle to the Earth, so of course
I'm used to it ; but I do think I deserve to have a
better fate than to have wash day named after
me."

"Washday! How?"

"Moonday, or Monday, as you House People
will spell it, taking advantage of my helpless con-

THE MAN OF THE MOON 47

dition not only to name a sloppy day for me, but
then to leave a letter out."

44 Do you belong to a Brotherhood or Guild, or
are you all alone by yourself ? "

44 Nothing is by or for itself, and there is no
loneliness in the Plan when it is undisturbed by
cross-purposes," whispered Heart of Nature. In
Skyland, where the earths and moons live, there
are many families, each obeying the rules of
a particular household.

44 This earth where I have my garden and that
moon that seems so far off, as well as many other
earths and moons, belong to the household of the
Sun. He rules them all according to the Plan,
gives them light and heat, sets them a path in
which to walk about the sky. The Sun is king
over them, under the Plan, and watches always,
keeping his compelling eye on every member of
his family, holding each to its own pathway."

Anne crept slowly toward her bed, after raising
the window shade as high as it would go, and
pushing back the curtains as far as possible, she
fixed herself comfortably where she could, look the
Moon full in the face.

44 Now please, Mooney dear, tell me everything
you can," she said, clasping her hands above her
head. 44 But I wish you wouldn't move so fast; I'm

48 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

afraid you will go past the window before we
are half through talking. Can't you ever be
still?"

" That would be breaking Rule No. 1 in Sky-
land, which is 4 keep moving' '

" What if you don't ? "

" Then you fall up out of sight."

" Fall up ! I never heard of falling up."

" It all depends upon where you are standing ;
up from one place is down from another."

" But," said Anne, not feeling able to argue
with the Moon, " when one of you fall, where do
you fall to ? "

" Ask Wabeno, the Magician, for no one who
has fallen through space has ever come back to
give me an account of his journey," said the Moon,
blinking solemnly as a procession of cloud Ele-
phants, Camels, and Buffaloes, chased by a great
Dragon, passed before its face.

" What is the next rule in Skyland ? " asked
Anne.

" ''Follow your leader? " replied the Moon,
promptly. " That is why I am always running
round and round the Earth and the Earth is all
the time tramping round the Sun."

" Why don't you go round the Sun by yourself
and let the Earth alone ? "

THE MAN OF THE MOON 49

" Moons are only second-class sort of things,
you see, and they have to serve two rulers and
turn three ways at once. On their own axles,
round their leaders, and along with them at the
same time, while the Earth only turns on its own
axle and rolls along its path around the Sun."

"Axle! why, that is the bar a wagon wheel turns
on ! I didn't know earths and moons had axles."

" House People use another word, axis, and ex-
plain about its being an imaginary line."

" I suppose they call it imaginary because they
can't see it ; most people say that of things they
can't see," said Anne, "for you know, Mooney
dear, if it was a real axle there would have to be
ends to it sticking out somewhere."

"And so there are ends, to be sure, though
House People will say it is all stuff and nonsense!
What else are the North and South Poles ? "

" Of course, I never thought of that ; but
why doesn't some one find them, I wonder ? "

"Some one is always trying to, but suppose
somebody did find them, meddled or tried to
dig them up and take them to a museum or sell
them for relics ? Suppose some one bent them and
sent the earth switching off the track right into
the Sun, or maybe against me, to crack my crown ?

" A pretty mess there would be, to be sure !

50 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

No, when any one gets rather near to where the
north end of that axle is buried, Wabeno beats his
drum, Wabasso, the White Rabbit, leaps from
his snowy form and wakes Peboan, and quickly
they bury every bit of food. Then Kabibonokka
rushes by, and together they go to rivet icy fetters
around all the passages to that axle's end. So he
who really finds it must have outwitted Winter,
the Ice King, the North Wind in his own for-
tress, Famine, and Wabeno, the Magician."

" They aren't outwitted yet, that's very certain,"
said Anne, with a sigh of relief that there was no
immediate danger of the earth's running off the
track from a bent axle. " Now please tell me
how you came to be a second-class affair, and if
all the stars go about as you do."

" The Sun is the only star in the particular
family of Skyland to which my earth and I be-
long. The other Suns, that House People call
stars, are so far away in other sky countries that
they seem very small, though they may really
be bigger than our own Sun, I've heard it said,
and you must know one hears a great many tales
going to and fro in Skyland during a life as long
as mine."

" Do all those far-away Suns have families to
rule the same as our Sun ? "

THE MAN OF THE MOON 51

" 1 don't know," said the Moon, hesitating a
moment ; " I've never inquired and I've never
looked; we may not gape and stare, for the
third rule in Skyland is c eyes front,' for if one
of us fell out of step the whole procession might
be boggled up and we would all go flying about
hither and thither like those homeless gas bags
of comets with the fiery tails, that make us stay-
at-home bodies so nervous when they come prowl-
ing about."

" Won't you please go back to the beginning ? "
prompted Anne.

"To the beginning? To the time when this
earth and the other planets were like fiery eggs
given off by their Sun parent?"

"That will do, if you don't remember any
further ; but I'd rather you would begin with
only the Sun."

" Well then, there was that great ball of light
and heat that you call the Sun, and the First Heart
made the Plan to have a colony of planets about it.

" Now the Sun is not all pure liquid fire, as it
seems to be. In the very inside there is a solid
dark core surrounded by the blazing, burning
atmosphere, that even I can't face without wink-
ing, but that you House People may not even
peep at unless through smoked glasses."

52 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" How do you know that the Sun isn't fire all
through ? "

" That is easily learned, even by House People ;
they see, through their telescopes, dark spots on
the Sun's brightness. What are these spots but
where rifts in the blazing atmosphere show the
solid core.

" In the beginning of this Sun Family, to which
I belong, bits of this fiery vapour whirled away
from the Sun and flew into space. Some bits
flew a great way and some not so far. As soon
as these whiffs of hot breath left the Sun .they
were told the first rule, 'keep moving,' and as
the hot vapour of which they were made began
to spin, it took a round shape, so at first all the
pieces looked like so many separate Suns.

" The Plan had a use for all of these new
globes, and they were set moving and develop-
ing, each to go in its own path until it reaches
the goal marked out for it. What this goal is
no House Person may know, though they are
always watching and spying up into the sky to
find out. No one knows the Plan but the First
Heart — not even Heart of Nature.

" While these new Suns were young they were
very hot and gave light like their parent ; but as
they gradually cooled they shrank and grew more

THE MAN OF THE MOON 53

and more solid and their heat became less and
their light dim, until at this day almost all of the
Sun's family shine merely by the light that they
catch from his own face.

" Now Moons are not children of the Sun, but
grandchildren, for they are made of the hot breath
of the particular earth or planet they follow. I
was of the breath of that planet which is called
the Earth ; as I cooled, I naturally followed her,
around. So it is with other Moons that follow
other planets.

" It took many years for the Plan to make the
Earth ready for Heart of Man to occupy. House
People may not count the time from the moment
when the vapours cleared away, light dawned upon
a solid earth crust, and the waters rolled back,
until the day when the earth was ready to yield
food suitable for Heart of Man. House People
have not numbers enough to reckon it, yet to us
of Skyland it seems only a few short days."

" But Mooney, what was happening to you
while your leader, the Earth, was being grown?"

" I grew also, but my development was swifter.
You know that when potatoes are taken from hot
ashes a little one will cool much quicker than a
big one."

"Yes, but how do y^" know about potatoes?"

54 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" I may not tell the secrets of my past. I know,
that is enough. You must not hurry me. 1 was
a very small planet, so I cooled quickly, and all the
changes that the Earth went through until it be-
came the garden for Heart of Man, I, too, experi-
enced. Mountains rose on my sides, rivers ran
and oceans ebbed and flowed, and people of a sort
lived on me. But I went on quickly cooling until
my very heart was chilled. Then I gave off no
moist breath to make air and water, for I was an
experiment made to test the workings of the
Plan.

" Listen, House Child. As Heart of God saw
that the earth garden was complete and ready to
receive the new animal who was worthy to wear
his image and be called Heart of Man, the last
life left my cold body. As a garden the Plan
needed me no longer, and I then became merely
Dibik Gheezis, the Night Sun, who was there-
after to help and be a servant of the chosen Earth
of all."

"Poor Mooney, I never thought that you had
ever had such an interesting life, and died of such
an awful chill ! I don't quite see how you are
very much help to the Earth, though of course it
isn't your fault. And what became of the last
animals that lived 011 you? "

THE MAN OF THE MOON 55

" Not much use ! " cried the Moonbeams, quiver-
ing so with emotion that Anne feared for a mo-
ment that a heavy cloud was going to hide them.
uNot much use ! I did not believe that you could
be so ignorant. How could there be an Almanac
without me ? How did the Indian Brothers divide
their large pieces of time?"

" I think they cut notches on a time stick, one
for every winter," ventured Anne, feeling rather
cornered.

" Yes, they did ; but each of those notches
marked a year. How d'id they measure the next
smaller divisions?"

" They — called them — why, of course, they
called them Moons. The Moon of Strawberries
was June, and the Planting Moon May, and July
the Midsummer Moon. So I suppose our word
'month' comes from your name too."

" Yes, it does. Listen ; this is the way time from
days to years is measured. The twenty-four hours
it takes the Earth to turn round on its axle is a
day; half of that time or thereabouts, according
to season, Gheezis, the Sun, reigns, and the other
half belongs to me, Dibik Gheezis, the Night Sun,
the light borrower. Always one of us is shining
on some part of the earth.

" The division of the months is my work. The

:^::"^:--'::,, ::.,-.. --- j ; -••„-.-——

scant twenty-

,*'

eight days that
it takes me to walk
around the Earth
gives name to the
Moonth, tricked of
a. letter to Month.
" The time it takes the Earth to follow
its path about the Sun is called a year,
and while it does this once, I have made
my monthly circuit thirteen times. But
House People think the number thirteen
is crooked and unlucky, so they divide up
the thirteenth month and give a few days
of it to each of the other twelve, and
say that twelve months make a year. The
Red Brothers give their year thirteen,
while Wabeno makes his Kalendar with
twelve and one long month of Moons to
bind them.

" You can well see that one who gives
, i name to time and dates, and has
its picture in the Alma-

THE MAN OF THE MOON 57

nacs, is very important in the affairs of Mother
Earth."

" Of course, I didn't think of that sort of
work. I mean that you did not help Heart of
Nature's garden to grow by making heat or
rain or anything of that sort."

" No — not exactly ; but I make a cool and
pleasant light at night for my namesake, the
Moon Moth, and his kin to see their pathways
to the Flower Market. I watch the Brother-
hood of Beasts upon their hunting trips, and I
paint magic pictures in cloud and earth and
water to give delight to Heart of Man. One
thing I do besides all this, — a very important
thing, — I help make the tides both rise and
fall.

" The Earth tips as she turns daily on her axle
— I mean axis — and I, though cold and lifeless,
have still the power of drawing water toward me,
and twice a day it rushes and rolls up and twice
spreads back again."

" Is it very important that the tides should go
up and down ? " asked Anne, incautiously.

" Important ! If it was never high tide how
could the big ships that go dancing to and fro
across the water ever reach dry land ? They
would all stick fast in the mud. I wish you

58 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

would ask more sensible questions. And if the
tide was never low, how could House People dig
clams ? "

"I beg your pardon," said Anne, humbly.
" Will you please tell me what became of some
of the other bits of the Sun's breath that turned
into planets ? Were there many of them, and
did any others but the Earth have moon children?
Though perhaps they are so far away that you
aren't acquainted with them."

" I've never spoken to them, or been really
introduced, but runaway comets and shooting
stars from other families have given me news
about them. There are eight large planets, or
children of the Sun, who have separate pathways
in our race track. Besides these there is a bunch
of little ones that I have never heard much about.

"These eight are all of different sizes, and as
no two take the same path, they are all at differ-
ent distances from the Sun, and of course some
are quite warm and some quite cold."

"And do they all have years and months the
same as we do, and can they all go round the
Sun in the same time ? "

" Please think a moment, House Child," said
the Moon, rather tartly. " Suppose there were
eight men riding bicycles around a tree in the

THE MAN OF THE MOON 59

middle of a field, and some were close to the tree
and some were on the outside edge, which would
get around the tree first ? "

"The one the nearest to the tree, of course."

" Very well ; it is the same way with the planets.
The one nearest the Sun has only eighty-eight
of the Earth's days in his year, and the farthest
takes one hundred and sixty-five of the Earth's
years to round the course once."

" Oh dear, how very complicated ! " sighed
Anne to herself ; " the whys and hows of Sky-
land are much more like arithmetic lessons than
the reasons why of the Bird and Beast Brother-
hood. I'm very sure I like the Earth garden best.

u Please tell me how the planets stand in the
race track. I suppose, of course, this Earth is the
biggest."

" It is not ; the Earth is among the smallest ;
it only seems big because you are plump on it.
1 look larger to you than Jupiter, — the largest
of all planets, — but that is because I am close.
I'm only about two hundred and forty thousand
miles away."

"Do you call that close? I think it is as far
away as forever. How far away is the Sun then ? "

"Oh, a little matter of ninety millions or so of
miles."

60 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" Please, Mooney, how large are you yourself ? "

"Nearly fifty times less than the Earth, my
mother."

" Oh dear, it gets worse and worse. Don't tell
me any more figures, but only the names of the
planets and which have moons."

" Very well — listen ! Mercury is the name of
the smallest; he runs nearest to the Sun; he has no
moon children; neither has Venus, who comes
next ; she is really the beauty of Skyland. We
all admire her greatly, and she seems to know it.
You yourself may often see her in the west of an
evening after sunset, smiling both to the setting
Sun and to me. I do not smile my brightest at
you until after the Sun is well out of sight, for no
moon may shine brightly upon its earth until
after the Sun has set."

" What makes sunset, please ? " interrupted
Anne.

"As the Earth turns on its axle, the part you
are standing on turns its back on the Sun."

" Then the Sun is there all the time ? "

" Certainly ; a part of the Earth turns away,
goes into the shadow of itself, — that is all."

" What planet runs beyond Venus ? "

" The Earth, with me for her only moon child.
Beyond her comes Mars, fiery and warlike* though

THE MAN OF THE MOON 61

small of size ; he has twin moons. Then the
bunch of planets called Asteroids crowd along
close together. Again, beyond, comes Jupiter, the
giant, proud, haughty, followed by four fine
moons, all as large, and one much larger than I.

" Now I speak of almost the outside boundary
of our Sun's domain, and news from those points
is vague and uncertain; still I have been told that
Saturn, the next plaiiet, is the strangest of all the
Sun's children. Eight moons has he, and besides,
he is girt about with shifting rings and belts of
light that whirl and vary, casting shadows on his
face so that none may surely say how they are
formed, and making him look every inch a
juggler.

" The last two planets in the ra.ce lurk so far
away that they seem smaller than the stars of
other Sky families. Uranus has four small
moons, and Neptune, the outsider, the farthest off
of all, has one solitary companion. Though Nep-
tune seems small as a pin's point, a shooting star
once told me that it was more than fifty times
as large as my own Earth. News travels slowly
from the outside to the Sun's family ; sight slower
yet, so much so that what I have heard is only
hearsay knowledge."

" What makes those spots all over you, dear

62 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

Mooney, that some people think look like eyes
and a nose and a mouth, and so they say there is
a man in the moon ? "

" It makes me weary," replied the Moon, yawn-
ing behind a convenient little black cloud, " to
think of the senseless gossip that House People
will believe and the stories they make out of
nothing. I suppose that is why they started that
tale about my being made of cheese, and that the
man ate me up once a month and then I grew
again, and the Red Brothers saying that I grow
sick and die each month. Not but what it is the
same in Skyland. Mars is always getting in a
temper and making remarks when Mercury and
Venus get out of sight between the Earth and
Sun. And I've seen a few sparks of shooting
stars fairly set the entire sky afire with gossip.
Those spots and pits on my face are the peaks
of mountains, the craters of worn-out volcanoes,
and the beds of empty oceans, — that is all ; but
people had rather believe tricks and fables than
easy true things."

" How is it that you grow large and small, and
yet sometimes when you are very little I can see
the faint shape of the whole of you ? "

" Think a moment, Anne. You know that I
travel round the earth."

THE MAN OF THE MOON 63

"Yes, surely."

" When I am behind the Earth the Sun's light
is shut off by it, and the House People cannot see
me. But as I move about, a tiny crescent
emerges from the Earth's round shadow and
catches the sunbeams. Then I am called the
New Moon. Gradually I creep around until I
am in full light ; then I am called the Full
Moon.

" I continue through the light until I enter the
shadow on the other side, and gradually, as I go
behind the Earth again, I am called the Waning
Moon, until I wholly disappear. Sometimes,
when I am only the slim new crescent, if the
air is clear enough, sunlight is reflected from the
Earth upon my shady side to show my full face,
for it is always there, though in shadow ; then
House People say, 4 The old Moon is in the new
Moon's arms.' '

" So the Earth reflects sunshine on the Moon
just as the Moon does on the Earth — how won-
derful ! " sighed Anne, unclasping her hands from
behind her head and dropping them on the
counterpane.

The Moon had crossed the window and was dis-
appearing behind the frame at the left side.

" Why, that is the same way the Earth shuts

64

STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

the Sun's light off,"
murmured Anne, " be-
cause the Full Moon is
really all outside there
now."

" Good-night, Anne,"
whispered the Moon-
beams, tiptoeing softly
backward toward the
window; uitis Weeng's
turn now."

" Only one more
question, dear Moon-
ey,"she begged, sitting
up suddenly. " Please,
who were the very last
persons or animals that
lived on you, and what
became of them ? "

" Wabeno, the
Magician, and Wa-
goose, the Dream
Fox," whispered
Weerig close in
Anne's ear as she
dropped back softly
among the pillows.

U/l?at

HE Goose-egg Moon held m^ny cold, dreary
days, in spite of the fact that the Ruffed
Grouse had given the Spring Signal and Hyla
Pickering and his orchestra tuned up persistently
every evening.

" We can't go out to find any whys this after-
noon," said Anne to Waddles, as they stood look-
ing disconsolately out of the study window down
toward the barns. The rain was falling in sheets,
beating the fuzzy catkins off the trees and bury-

F 05

66 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

ing them in the muddy walk, while every few
minutes a gust of wind brought it against the
window with a swish.

" There isn't a bird or a butterfly or a flower or
anything to talk to. I wish Tommy hadn't gone
to town with father and mother yesterday. I
'most think I should enjoy playing 'den and
bear' with him under the dinner table," con-
tinued Anne, with a sigh, "for I've done all
the lessons that were marked."

" It is dull, to be sure," replied Waddles, yawn-
ing and adroitly snapping up a big fly that buzzed
against the lower panes. " I wouldn't mind play-
ing 4 snatch bone ' with Lumberlegs if you will
whistle him up from the barns and give us a
bone."

" Waddles, I'm surprised at you, when you
know that it is a muBtrft be for Lumberlegs
to come into the house in wet weather. Do
you remember the first time you brought him
in, when Aunt Prue was visiting here, — how
he shook water all over her new cape? But
what sort of a game is 4 snatch bone ' ? I don't
think I've ever heard of it. Did you teach it
to Lumberlegs ? "

" No, missy, he taught me, You see, as I lived
so many years alone with you I knew very little

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 67

about dog society and the only game I knew was
'lone bone.' In that game you take a bone and
growl at it, then knock it away, or up in the air
with your paw, jump after it and try to catch it
as it drops, shake it, bite it, and growl again. It
is very good exercise, but it's awfully dull to have
to do your own growling. 4 Snatch bone ' is much
more exciting. You need a good strong beef or
mutton bone for this game ; little bones wear out
too quick. We dogs go out in a place where there
is plenty of room. Lumberlegs takes the bone,
lies down, and puts his paw upon it and gives a
growl as a signal to begin. Then I wag my tail
hard.

" Lumberlegs throws the bone up in the air ; we
both jump to catch it ; the one who gets it runs
around with it in his mouth as fast as he can go,
and the other one tries to snatch the bone away
from him. Sometimes we both get a good hold
with our teeth at the same time, and then we
wrestle and tumble and grab with our paws, and
the one who holds on the longest takes the bone
back to his side, growls, and then we begin again.
When time's up the dog that has the bone may
eat it."

" It sounds as if it might be fun," mused Anne ;
" but don't you ever grow angry and bite ? "

68 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" That is against the rules. You may sit on the
other dog if you can, but never bite. So it's
really better to play when you aren't very hungry
and the bone doesn't count for so much. Then
it's sport ; but if you are hungry and keep getting
only a taste, it's provoking, and then it's only a
common fight and no real sport.

"It's nice and warm in here, missy, and I
think, if you don't mind, I'll curl up and take a
nap, and by and by, if you have any of those
cookies that I smell baking, you might wake me
up ; " so saying, Waddles stretched himself in front
of the fire, his nose nicely fitted between his front
paws.

A fire of cannel coal in a basket grate rested on
the fire-dogs, instead of the usual logs ; for it had
been such a long cold season that the big log pile
had burned away too fast, and the woodhouse
was nearly empty. Anne kneeled on the rug,
opened a long box that served as a window seat,
and looked in. There was not much to see, —
some great lumps of coal at one end, while the rest
of the box was filled with pine kindling wood,
split in various lengths and sizes.

" Miss Jule said she would give me a big knife
like hers, with three blades, a hoof pick, and a
punch in it to make holes in leather, just as soon

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 69

as I could whittle a good-looking clothespin with
my old knife. I think I might as well begin
now," said Anne, taking a small but stout jack-
knife from her pocket.

" It would be better to have a clothespin to copy,
though. I think I smell cookies too, — the crispy,
gingery ones."

In a moment Anne returned with the clothes-
pin and nearly a dozen thin, scallopy cookies on a
plate, which she set carefully on the floor beside
her. Next she selected a bit of wood from the
open box, propped herself against it, and began to
whittle very slowly and carefully.

" Cri-cri-crick ! " cried the Cricket under the
hearth.

"Buz-bumbl-buz," answered O-o-chug, the House
Fly, beating his head recklessly against the win-
dow.

" Humph ! the Voiceless Brotherhood is waking
up," said the near andiron, as a tiny gray Moth,
with silver-powdered wings, crept out from the
edge of the hearth rug and fluttered to Anne's
skirt.

" What is the Voiceless Brotherhood ? " asked
Anne. "I never heard of that before."

"All the insects and animals that have no
voices in their throats, but speak with some other

70 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

parts of their bodies, or by signals," said the
Cricket, coming out of his crack and crossing the
hearth with a single jump.

" But surely you have a voice ; you make
almost as much noise as Hyla Pickering."

" I have a call, — for Heart of Nature gives, to
every animal who needs a mate some way of call-
ing her, — but no voice. My call is like the cry
a fiddle gives, — • watch and listen ! Look at my
upper wings, see the rough spot on their under-
sides ; I draw one of these wings to and fro
across the other and the call is given ; but it does
not come from my throat, for I have none, and no
lungs. Listen again, 4 Cri-cri — cri-cri-crick ! '

"How strange that is!" cried Anne. " But
you must be different from birds and frogs ; they
sing and call to their mates mostly in spring, but
you cry all summer long. That is, I think you
do, if you are one of the Crickets that live under
the grass."

"Yes, I'm a brown Field Cricket. I have a
summer home outdoors, but when winter comes
I creep inside, and if the house is warm it makes
me think it is spring, and I chirp up. The reason
why I chirp all summer is a great family secret ;
but I don't mind telling you, because you are such
a friend of Heart of Nature.

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 71

" In our family the females not only have no
voices, but no way of making any sound at all,
and so we are allowed to sing to them all the
season to keep their spirits up.

" We are a very revengeful family, and if any
House Person kills one of our kin, Wabeno shows
us the offender, and, biding our time, we work our
way into his house and, with our sharp scissor
jaws, cut his best clothes to strips. We are very
strict, too, among ourselves, and if one of our
children or our mates disobey, we immediately
eat up the offender, and there Is an end of the
matter without discussion. Yet, if people are
good to us, we not only do them no harm, but
soothe them with our songs and coax them to sit
and rest by the fire and see the Dream Fox's
picture-book.

" I have a big cousin living in foreign countries
who loves House People so well that he always
lives in houses, and some people like his song and
keep these Crickets in cages like song birds, —
cri-cri-cri ! "

" What are you, and where are you trying to
go?" asked Anne of a little Moth that was striv-
ing to crawl under one of the plaits of her tartan-
plaid skirt. " You are very small and not a bit
pretty. Are you any relation of the Moon Moth

72 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

or the Milkweed Monarch or Tiger Swallow Tail?
I can hardly see how you look. Do you work in
the Flower Market? If you do, I should think
you would only be able to carry messages for
tiny wide open flowers like Mignonette or Can-
dytuft."

" I'm only a very distant relation of those big
Butterflies and Moths. No, I do not work in the
Flower Market ; in fact, I have a very dull time.
I dislike bright sunlight and prefer to stay in-
doors. I belong to the Wool Exchange, and am
particularly interested in the carpet business.
Please let me get out of the light and hide in
your skirt."

" Don't you let it ! " buzzed the House Fly ;
" if you do, that sly little thing will lay eggs in
some corner of your gown, and then when they
hatch into worms they will eat the cloth and
spin up into cocoons, and more Moths will come
out. These evil young Moths make holes in
everything woollen, and mow the fur from muffs
and capes as if they were cutting grass.

" What is worse, too, these wicked little Moths,
working slyly in the dark, lay two broods a year,
— one in spring, one in late summer, — so woe be-
tide those who give even a single Moth a hiding
place. Kill that one, Anne, with a swift pinch;

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 73

for if he holds the Wool Exchange all summer
in your pretty gown, it will be fit for nothing but
Rag Fair in the autumn.

"How do I know this? Despised as he is,
persecuted by men and spiders, beaten out of
houses and caught by the wings on sweet sticky
paper, O.-o-chug, the House Fly, sees a thing or
two as he walks head downward on the ceiling,
and I see two other Voiceless Ones in this room
that ought to be put out."

" Oh, what are they ? " cried Anne, starting up
and looking into the shadowy corners ; " I can't
see a thing. There, I've pinched that Moth, and
he has all turned to gray dust."

" I know you don't see anything ; that is why
the things are very dangerous. Take up the
corner of the rug behind the sofa — what do you
find?"

" Some mites of beetles, kind of mottled, with
a wavy red line on their backs ; they look some-
thing like Lady Bugs. Oh ! and when I touch
them they draw up their legs and play dead."

" They are not Lady Bugs, but father and mother
Carpet Beetles. They fly about, in and out, in
the summer season and feed upon plants ; but
when they lay their eggs they creep into floor
cracks and dark crannies. In a few days, if it

74

STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

is warm enough,
their eggs hatch into larvse
covered with a woolly skin
that looks like a shred of
dark brown worsted. This is called
the Buffalo Moth. How it eats and
eats, moults its skin and eats even
that, doing this half a dozen times
and working great damage, until it

G is fully grown ! Then it splits this

skin for good, and you can see the legs and wings
of what soon will be a full-grown Carpet Beetle.

"If your fine rug is riddled with holes from
underneath, blame the Buffalo Moth. If a new
blanket looks like a target full of small shot,
blame the Buffalo Moth. Cloth, cotton, paper,
fur, lace, — all are grist for its mill."

" Then 111 kill these Beetles too," said Anne,

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 75

promptly executing them with her knife. " Now,
where is the other bad Voiceless One ? "

"The third is the Book Louse, a partner of
the Book Worm," said O-o-chug, " and even now
they are eating the paste that holds the binding
on those old, leather-covered books, on the high
shelf, that your father says you must never touch.
Tell him from me that he had better give those
books a sun-bath for their health, else their backs
will soon grow weakly and mayhap break."

" Missy," said Waddles, suddenly waking up,
"was I right about the cookies?"

" Yes, sir, you were ; but I was so busy with
these voiceless things that I forgot all about them.
No, don't help yourself ; wait until I break your
share into pieces and put it on a paper."

Waddles stretched his legs, bowed his back,
and licked his lips, saying in a half-grieved voice :
" You always used to let me eat out of your hand
and never bothered about catching crumbs in
paper. Besides, I never spill crumbs."

" I know it, Waddlekins, but it's one of your
responsibilities ; Lumberlegs slobbers and spills
such lots of crumbs, that mother said, 4 If you feed
the dogs in the house, they must eat from a paper.'
I guess rules are always made for the crumby
people."

76 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

"Then why don't you eat off the paper too,
missy? You are making crumbs," and Waddles
began to pick them up daintily with the tip of
his tongue.

Anne laughed and hugged him so suddenly
that she tipped against the wood box, at which
a lump of coal lost its balance and rolled into
the kindling wood.

" Keep your distance, Smutty Nose ! "

" Smutty Nose, indeed ! How dare you call
me that ? "

" Well," said the Kindling Wood to the Coal,
" who are you ? "

" House People call me Coal, and sometimes
when the weather is very cold, King Coal."

"They spell the real King Cole's name a dif-
ferent way," interrupted Anne.

"They couldn't very well do that," replied
the black lump, "because / am the real King
Coal ; the other man was the usurper, so he didn't
dare spell his name correctly for fear of being ar-
rested for forgery."

"How is it that an old hard dead thing like you
can burn as well as I, who was last summer one
of the tallest pines on Wild Cat Mountain ? "

"I don't think that is half so strange," said
King Coal, brushing the dust from his face, " as

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 77

the reason why either of us burn at all. Do you
know why we do ? "

" I only know what the Winds of Night whisper
to us on the mountain from the time we reach
our six green finger-tips above the soil, until the
axe stroke tells us that our tree life is ended.

" The Winds say : ' Reach out, O Pines ; with
both foot and hand draw food from the earth
and stretch begging palms to the sky ; grasp the
sunlight, hold it fast. Grow, swell your limbs, and
prepare greater storehouses for the hoard of sun-
beams. Warm shall they feel as you grasp them,
yet they soon grow cool in the storehouse. But
when Wabeno speaks or touches you with fire,
back to the air shall these stored sunbeams return,
and all that will remain of you will be the ashes
of the storehouse walls.'

" All this is true. For twenty years I stretched
out my hands and begged for sunbeams, grasping
and hoarding them. To-day they throw my ribs
into the grate and touch fire to them. Wabeno
calls ! I blaze, and all the store of sunlight dis-
appears into the air and leaves a pinch of ashes."

" And you pass on the magic touch ? Do not I
blaze, too, when your heat touches me ? " asked
King Coal. "And though I blaze longer and
fiercer, is not my end the same — a heap of ashes ? "

78 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" Certainly," said Anne, " and both sorts of
ashes are grimy things, only wood ashes are good
for plants and coal ashes aren't. I don't think if
I were you, Kindling Wood, I should call King
Coal ; Smutty Nose,' for though you are cer-
tainly cleaner in the beginning, it seems to me as
if you might be relations."

" We are," said the Coal, " though it isn't to be
wondered at that this newly cut pine wood should
not understand the relationship, for it has taken
the cleverest House People years arid years to
find it out. The story of it seems stranger than
the wildest picture in Wagoose's book, and more
wonderful than all the tricks of Wabeno, the
Magician.

"There are many magic gases floating about the
Earth that are not needed for the Brotherhood
of Man or Beasts to breathe, — in fact, some of
these vapours are very hurtful to animals. The
Plan says that the Plant Brotherhood shall suck
these gases from the air, digest them, and return
part of them to the air again purified, while the
plant keeps the hurtful part for its own food."

" Humph ! " said the Kindling Wood, " I didn't
know exactly how it was done ; but I knew I was
always sucking in and breathing out, and that the
Winds of Night were always bringing and taking

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 79

vapours from my leaves. But how, pray, did you
know all this? Did the rock of which you are
made come from a forest ? — for of course you
are a rock."

" Everything in Nature's garden belongs to one
of three great Brotherhoods, — the Animal, the
Vegetable, and the Mineral," said King Coal, "and
I have belonged to two of these, — the Vegetable
and the Mineral. I once was a plant, a tree of a
forest thicker and greener than any that have ever
been seen by Heart of Man. I am now a piece of
coal, a mineral claiming kin with rocks, dug deep
from the earth. Between the beginning and the
end of my life are many steps and as many years
as the leaves in all the forests of the world.

" There is in air, be it ever so pure, a vapour,1
that plants need for their daily breath. Now
listen to how this gas was caught from the air in
bygone ages and turned into coal.

" The Moon, I suppose, has told you often how
she and her master, the Earth, were once fiery
balls formed of the Earth's breath ? "

"Yes," said the Kindling Wood, "the Moon
talks about little else but the past; but we trees
on the mountain never believed what she said."

" You should believe the Moon. She tells the
1 Carbonic acid gas.

80

STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

truth, for she has seen whereof she tells,"
said King Coal. " We have known each
other ever since I also stood in a mighty
forest jungle."

"Did House People cut you down,
did the Winds play pranks and uproot
you, or did Wawa-sa-mo, the Light-
ning, rend you?" asked the Kindling
Wood.

"House People cut me down?
There was none such in my day;
never did I see the face of Heart of
Man until, by a deep thunderous
noise, I was shaken from my earth
bed. When I was of the jungle,
Man and the animals nearest to
him were not yet made.

" It would have seemed a
strange world to a Pino tree.
Gigantic Lizards and huge
Frogs swam in the waters, but
no birds sang among the tall
rank trees, or left their
tracks in the mud ;
^•^ none of the Beast
Brothers of the
woods had come.

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 81

" The plants bore no gay flowers ; they were of
the Flowerless Tribe, such as your ferns, mosses,
and horsetails, that carry but seed-dust spores and
wave no gay petal flags in the Flower Market
to lure the insect messengers.

" Nature's garden was not ready for them ; the
solid earth crust that rose here and there above
the waters was yet thin ; heat and steam made
the plant growth thick ; the air was still heavy
with the gases that plants may suck, but that
may not be breathed by man.

" Heart of Nature said : 4 Grow exceedingly,- ye
Flowerless Plants ; increase and multiply beyond
belief. Suck the poison from the air and purify
it; the Plan says it must be so.'

" We grew and sucked and dropped our seed
and leaves, and grew again, until blackening
leaf and wood mould lay in deep layers, black
with the carbon the living plant had sucked
and stored away."

" I don't see how air could turn into smutti-
ness," said Anne.

" Go to the woods to-day and you will see
that it is so. Rub your hand on a smooth old
tree trunk, are not your fingers smutty? Look
at some dead ferns that lie sodden and beaten
into the mud, are they not blackening also ?

82 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" When all the growth of many years lay in a
mass decaying, and the earth's crust sank a little,
no more trees grew, and water began to spread
layers of mud over where our jungle was, as
water covers the leaf mould on a pond's bottom.
Then the mass took the first step of its long
journey from wood to coal land, changing at
each stopping place, and in some cases lagging
behind and never reaching the end of the great
transformation.

"At the first stop the blackening mass was
what House People call peat, a mossy, spongy
sort of stuff that may be cut in blocks, and
smoulders slowly as it burns. You may find
this change going on in many places even
to-day.

" One day the earth crust heaved, rose, and
overlapped the jungle, as scum folds over on a
boiling pot; so heat and weight were added to
the mass, from which some gases escaped and
others boiled down to make new substances.
After a long wait, compressed and molten, we
grew browner and more solid and became what
is called lignite, or brown coal. This has such
a sulphurous breath that it chokes House People
when they burn it. After this, harder and
blacker we grew, and straightway stepped from

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 83

plant to rock land, or from the Vegetable to the
Mineral world.

" Look at me ! I am the first of the true line.
House People call me Cannel Coal. Am I not
glossy like jet, that is also a kinsman? When
I feel the touch of your magic torch, see how
quickly I give back my stored sunshine in an
oily tongue of flame !

"But though I have stored much carbon
there are others of my family, all older than I,
who hold more. Two brothers I have, — Soft
Coal that House People burn in locomotives,
and Hard Coal that makes the steady kitchen
fires. Two cousins also I have, the first named
Black Lead, that House People know quite inti-
mately,— using it in their pencils and making it
speak their thoughts."

" To be sure," cried Anne, " I never thought
of it ; but lead is very like coal. What is the
other cousin ? I think it must be ink."

"No, the other, the rarest, the one that has
made all the changes and is the farthest away
from wood, is the Diamond."

" The Diamond ! That beautiful jewel in
mother's ring? How can that be, King Coal,
when all the rest of the family are sooty and can
be burned, and the diamond is so clear and white

84 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

and hard that mother wrote my name and
Tommy's on the study window with hers ? "

" Ask Wabeno how it came to be so clear and
pure ; but this I know, that it will burn away
even as I myself, if fierce magic heat is blown
upon it, and nothing be left but a pinch of

"Besides all these, many other things were
boiled from us as we lay buried, for the astral
oil you burn is only coal juice and our mass
unearthed by Heart of Man yields priceless dyes
and drugs and medicines, that were all drawn
from the air through the breathing of the trees of
that ancient jungle.

"So you see, friend Kindling Wood, that we
are kin, though parted in age by countless years."

"Does all the coal we burn come from your
jungle, and what shall we do when it is all dug
out ? "

"There were jungles dotted almost every-
where that the earth's crust rose above the
waters. As one sank and began its trip to Coal
Land, the Plan planted another on top of it again
and again, until the earth's crust was filled with
coal veins."

." Just like layers in a jelly cake ! " cried Anne
clapping her hands.

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD 85

" Jelly cake, where ? " said Waddles, starting up
suddenly and then looking foolish when he real-
ized his mistake.

" This time was called the Carbon Time," l con-
tinued King Coal, " because during it the car-
bonic acid gas from the air was sucked up *by the
jungles and stored away. The air then became
pure, and higher animals appeared, according to
the Plan, — Reptiles, Birds, Mammals, like your
cows and horses, and finally came Heart of
Man.

" Listen, House Child ; when this last Heart
came he dug in the earth's bosom and found
King Coal and gave him the magic touch that
let loose the sunshine stored away in days when
man was not, — he alone had a use for King Coal,
who had cleared the air and made it fit to be
breathed by man.

" Now put me on the grate, House Child, push
under the kindlings to give the magic touch, and
hear me sing the song of those old days that
is pent up within me."

Anne carefully laid a few sticks on the red

ashes and placed King Coal on top. The wood

blazed and the lump settled, but still remained

cold and black. She gave it a sharp blow with

1 Carbonic era.

86 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

the poker, and instantly King Coal quivered and
little rivulets of flame ran down his sides whis-
pering strange words. Anne listened to catch
their meaning, but they spoke swifter than the
Winds' Voices, and murmured more confusedly
than the leaves to the raindrops. While in the
smoke that went up the chimney she saw strange
scenes and shapes that vanished, until a puff of
smoke driven back by the damp chimney made
her choke.

" Dearie me ! ouf-ker-chew ! If the gas that
coal breathed in to make itself was as bad as what
it breathes out in unmaking, I don't wonder it
took Heart of Nature a long time to pack it all
away to bake in the ground and give the sky a
good cleaning.

" Oh, there is the sun ! How much nicer the
old dear is than the grandest hearth fire !
Waddles, Waddles, wake up ! It has cleared off
and Lumberlegs is whining outside. Come out
and play 'snatch bone.' I'll get you a fine
rib from yesterday's beef if you'll let me play
too, and I'll only growl and run without snatch-
ing."

So Anne shut the cover of the wood box,
pocketed her half-whittled clothespin, and shook
the shavings into the fire, leaving the Kindling

THE COAL TO THE KINDLING WOOD

87

Wood wondering how long it would have taken
for it to turn into coal if it had not been split
up fov kindlings — a question which neither the
Hearth Cricket nor O-o-chug could answer.

I

Stye 5tory of Bel(-u;ul{, ttye /}rrou/

T was long ago that I first saw light — far
back before the days when Wenona left her
father to go to her mother in the Morning
Star. I was a bit of flint rock that for ages
had been in the Earth's smelting furnace and
afterward imprisoned in a granite cliff, the same
cliff from which Wenona took her flight.

" In those days the Red Brothers of the north
roved wild, both east and west, from ocean to
ocean, with the Deer and Buffalo. They had
neither gun nor sword, knife nor iron, horse nor
cow. Their garden was the wild Flower Market,
their drink pure water. These were the days of
true hunting, before the Stone Giants came, and
in the very last of these good days was I made."

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 89

" If they had no knives nor guns, how could
they kill anything when they went hunting ; and
if they had no horses, how could they go, and who
were the Stone Giants?" interrupted Anne, tak-
ing up a glistening white arrow-head, the most
shapely of all, from among those in her lap, for
it was upon this one the voice rested.

"Slowly, go slowly, House Child, and listen
patiently if you would hear my story. We of the
past who have grown slowly with the Earth's
growth must take our own way and time of
telling.

"As I was saying, I was of a layer of white
flint rock embedded in the granite of Wenona's
cliff. For ages after I had hardened from a
molten mass I lay there, cold and silent. You
may perhaps find such stuff as I making white
lines in some broken rock hereabouts."

" Ah, yes," said Anne, " I know a place between
here and Wild Cat Mountain that we call the
Dark Woods. A place where I may never go
alone because the rocks are high like a wall, and
Aspetuck runs so quickly between them that father
says it has cut a pathway for itself. In those
high rocks there are stripes of shiny, sharp flint,
just like you — not exactly straight stripes like
those on a flag, but wiggley ones, like a crumpled-

90 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

up jelly cake. You look almost as if you were
made of that very same rock."

The Arrow-head seemed to quiver as Anne
pressed it against the palm of her hand, and asked
in an eager, choking voice : —

"Does the rock wall face the rising sun? Are
there old trees fringing the top? Tall trees in
a long waving line, like warriors hemmed back
in a last battle; then beyond these trees an
open place from which the stones have all been
gathered?"

" I think the cliff does face sunrise," said Anne,
after hesitating a moment, " because I remember
the sun lies full on it in the morning ; but I'll go
and ask Obi and Baldy — they'll know because
they've been up there this winter after Foxes, and
I haven't been there since Crotalus, the Bad One,
died," she said, starting up.

" No, do not go, House Child," begged the
Arrow-head ; " let us be alone together for a time,
you and I, for you tell me strange news, and I may
tell you stranger yet. A bout the tree fringe and
the cleared ground, are they there ? "

" There were trees there until last year, but
lumbermen have cut them down. Father says
there must have been a very old wood there once,
of great white oaks, — a pri-me-val forest, he

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 91

called it, — because there are some e-w0rmous
wrecks of stumps, with trees that are pretty big
and old now, growing between them. I don't re-
member any open field behind the cliff; it was all
woods quite across to the Mountain."

u Of course, of course, it would be after all these
years," said the Arrow-head. " Was there a wide,
open piece of water above, before the cliffs made
the way narrow ? "

" Yes, of course — the long pond. It used to
be lovely, full of Lilies and Wild Ducks, but the
lumbermen have messed it all up to make the
water turn their saw-mill."

" House Child," cried the Arrow-head, " that
was the cliff from which Wenona took her flight
with Robin Thrush and Owaissa. From its glis-
tening rocks was I made ! "

"How wonderful ! " sighed Anne, fingering the
Arrow-head tenderly. "Then there were Red
Brothers here where we live ! Do tell me every-
thing you remember, and I won't interrupt you any
more, that is, — only one question, — did you ever
meet Wagoose, the Dream Fox ? Did he ever
live here ? "

" You say there are Foxes here now ? "

" Yes, plenty of them; too many for our chickens
to be happy."

92 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

" Wherever Foxes have lived, or man lives to-
day, there may Wagoose be found."

" But have you ever seen him yourself ? "
" Never ; only to those of the Brotherhood of
Beasts, of which Man is the King, will Wabeno
vouchsafe sight of him. Now for my life his-
tory."

" I had lain a long time in darkness, in my rocky
bed, when one day I heard a tapping around and
above me. I wondered about it a good deal, slight
as it was, because I had heard nothing like it be-
fore. This sound went on at times for many
years, and every little while a shiver would run
through the rock to which I belonged.

" One day this shiver became more violent, a
splitting noise followed, and then a crash. When
my bones stopped aching, I saw that it was no
longer dark ; blue sky was above my head. At
one side stood the cliff from which I had fallen,
at the other dashed the swift running river —
between these two I lay.

"As soon as I learned what had happened to
me, I began to look about."

"But what had happened? Who hammered
you off the other rock ? " asked Anrie, forgetting
that she had promised not to speak.

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 93

" The place where I slept was near the cliff's
edge. A tiny crack lay between my bed and the
great rocky mass that was scarred through and
through by just such other cracks. Into this
seam the rain had crept, drop by drop, year upon
year, feeling its way in summer, turning to ice
in winter, and pushing against the rock when it
thawed out in spring. Little by little the crack
widened to a seam ; as more rain could enter
there was more ice to push, until one spring the
crisis came and my bit could no longer grasp the
3liff, and so I fell."

" 1 know that must be true, because now there
is a monstrous great lump of rock, bigger than
the tool house, right in the middle of the river,
that came from the top edge of the cliff. For
even though the water has worn the corners off,
it couldn't move it, and you can almost see the
place it fell from, the stripes in it match so well.
Besides, that is the way the ice cracked my water
pitcher. Please excuse me for interrupting, dear
little Arrow, but if you only knew how glad I am
when I quite understand something, you wouldn't
think me rude. It's a way all young animals have,
I think, for Waddles always used to interrupt,
and Tommy does, and Lumberlegs, too, so I'm
pretty sure that Heart of Nature means us to ask

real questions so we can
learn things. Of course
talky, talky questions are
different."

" Then," continued the

Arrow, " I learned in a few

hours more than I had

known in all the ages of my

growth and sleeping. The

life of Heart of Man is

short, only a breath's length

| compared with the young-

£ est bit of earth stuff, so he

I must feel, see, learn, and

/'

f!

Ifci

^Ww//i

^&W#fa\

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 95

act quickly to do his part in the Plan, and that
day I met the Red Brothers.

" As I lay there by the river, looking up at the
bare trees, so gray that I thought them made of
rock like myself, and at the ice that still lodged
in dark cliff crevices, I heard a sound that I soon
learned was the voice of man. A dark object
shot by me down the river, but swiftly as it went
I saw the strange shapes in it and that they no-
ticed me.

" The Red Brothers had been fishing for Trout
and Pickerel at the head-waters far above and, as
the canoe was guided into still water, the women
came out from their lodges behind the wood
fringe, pulled the craft ashore, and loading the
fishes upon flat trays of braided rushes, carried
them toward the village of wigwams. All this I
did not then understand, but learned after ; yet it
saves time to tell it as it was, not as it seemed to
me but newly escaped from a granite prison."

" Why didn't the Red Brothers carry their own
fishes home ? I don't think they were polite."

" It was their custom, even as the male and
female bird both help in the nest building, or as
the She- wolf, Fox, or Wild Cat toils most to feed
her ravenous young.

" Two words held the rule of the Red Brothers7

96 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

household. One word belonged to man to carry
out, the other to the woman, and these two words
were Provide and Prepare.

" The Red Brothers did the hunting and fishing,
provided the meat, the skins for tent covers and
robes, and caught the fish ; the Squaws prepared
the food, carried it home, prepared the skins, dried
the fish. The Brothers made war ; the Squaws
made ready for it. It was their law ; there was
no impoliteness in it because they saw none.

" Presently three Red Brothers came along the
bank where I was lying, pointing to me and many
other fragments like me, some larger and some
smaller. They seemed glad that we were there,
and presently others came and began to gather us
up in heaps, striking the larger pieces skilfully
with greater stones until they fell in fragments fit
to carry.

" Next day I found myself in a half-dark wig-
wam, covered with bark. Light came in the door-
way and also through a hole left at the top that
smoke, the breath of heat, might escape through
it. In the doorway sat a man ; before him was a
large smooth flat stone; in his right hand he held
another stone with which he chipped grains from
a still smaller fragment his left hand grasped. I
watched him closely, for, as he chipped, the flint

THE ARROW MAKER

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 97

fragment took a shape like that of many others
lying on the ground.

" In a little time he rose, stepped into the after-
noon sunlight, listened, whistled to Kaw-kaw, the
Raven, who was stealing through the bare trees
looking for acorns, then seated himself cross-legged
again, filled a hollow at the end of a long stick
with dry leaves, lighted them with fire that smoul-
dered inside the wigwam, and straightway fire
breath curled from the stick and his own nostrils,
yet he himself did not burn away. Presently,
when all the leaves had turned to smoke, there
being no more food for the fire, it died out; he laid
this stick — they call it a pipe — away, and coming
into the lodge chose me from out the heap of flints
and began shaping me with stinging blows.

" I was confused, as you may well believe ; first,
I grew long, then was narrowed to a point, sloped
sidewise to sharp edges, and finished in a grooved
blunt butt. Then I was rubbed and polished by
various other kinds of stones until the old man
was content with my appearance, and saying
mystic • words, he laid me on a pile with many
others like me : ' Go forth, Bek-wuk, arrow-head,
thou art beautiful of thy kind,' he whispered,
scarcely moving his lips; 'touch the heart of all
you desire, — of the deer in the hunting, of the

98 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

foe on the war-path. May Wabeno's keenness
be on your tip, his cunning in your shaft, and the
swiftness of Wagoose in your flight.'

" Thus was I born and made a Magic Arrow in
the tent of Kanida, the arrow maker, brother to
the warrior Kaniwa, Wenona's father."

" For many days and nights I lay in the tent,
watching what went on about me. Other instru-
ments of killing and household vessels were my
tent mates. Spear heads, chipped from flint like
myself, but ten times greater in length, stone axes
that would beat more readily than cut, fish hooks
wrought from bone, clay pots, wooden bowls, and
water vessels made from gourd rinds, bundles of
reeds, and feathers of the wild goose.

"Kanida would select a dozen arrow-heads
from off the pile, scan each one closely, narrowing
his eyes as he held it between them and the light;
then make ready a dozen reeds to mate them,
fastening head to shaft with horn glue and the
stout thongs of hide that the Beast Brotherhood
furnished. Next was the shaft nicely winged
with goose quills to make an even balance. So
were the arrows ready to go forth to live their
lives, while in and out of the lodge came and went
silent figures who bartered venison, birds, and other

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW

99

food for the arrows, sometimes stopping to smoke
a pipe with Kanida, sometimes leaving quickly.

" In the lodge were arrow-heads that had seen
service and returned to be reshafted, and they
told me strange tales of war and
hunting. How thev were
often rubbed with
son from the fangs c
Crotalus, the Bad
One, if meant for
war arrows ; and
how they had trav-
elled mighty dis-
tances in the flesh
of some slightly
wounded stag to be
made prisoners
by a strange
tribe, and final-
ly found their
way back to
Kanida's lodge
by the same chance, for the Red Brothers prized
Bek-wuk, the Arrow, above price, and never aban-
doned him carelessly.

"One day a girl came to the lodge — a child
almost, but tall and slim and very beautiful. She

100 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

sat upon the ground and toyed and played with
the glistening arrow-heads, plucking out those
that pleased her best, — a bit of light green jade
from distant parts, a coal black point, and — me !
A thrill went through me as I felt the soft touch
of her fingers, and solemn Kanida even smiled as
he gazed upon her, for it was Wenona — she whom
all the tribe held in part to be one of them, and
yet something far beyond. Wenona, daughter of
Kaniwa, the Chief, whose mother had vanished to
the Morning Star. Wenona, — • whose very name
signified a quivering r&y of light, — the maid, who
saw in dreams thiligs that should happen afar off.

"This day Wenona was playful and sad by
turns, and Kanida often glanced at her anxiously;
finally he laid his flints aside, and filling his pipe
began to smoke silently, as if inviting her con-
fidence. As the day lengthened, pulling the shad-
ows after it, she, crouching at the arrow maker's
feet, began to speak, at first in short sentences, as
if she read a story dimly through the smoke.

"'They are coming, they will soon be here!
The Stone Giants, people from a far-off tribe, with
faces of a strange, dead colour. First will our
people send out good brave arrows against them,
but stone to stone the Giants shall hurl them back
with broken shafts, while they shall be uninjured.

BEK-WUK, THE AREOW > ,101

"' Again, and many times again, shall 'our
people try to overthrow these stone men by all
trick and sublety of war, but vainly ; for in their
hands the Giants carry in leash Ishkodah, the
Comet with the fiery tail, with which to blind and
kill the Red Brothers from without, while in a
seeming friendly cup they hold out burning water
to kill them with unquenched thirst. The Stone
Giants come ! I hear their earth tread even
now ! ' she whispered, shivering.

" ' How and whence know you this, my daugh-
ter ? ' questioned Kanida, with a troubled look.

" Wenona looked up, laughing gayly, her mood
changing suddenly.

" 4 Whence know I it ? Everything whispers it
as gossip. Apuk-wa, the Bulrush, told it to me,
and when I doubted, Arinemeekee, the Thunder,
said that it was so. Kayoshk', the Sea Gull, told
me that he had himself seen the Stone Giants
crossing a mighty river in great canoes that sank
not in spite of the vast weight, and when I
doubted, Wabun, the East Wind, told me it
was so, for he and Kabibonokka had followed
these canoes, striving to upset them, but could
not.

'"More than this — draw close, Kanida, for I
may but whisper — Wabeno, the Magician, told

102 s t STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

me, only "the w last night gone, that the Stone
Giants, against whom your swiftest arrows should
fall as harmless as leaves on sand, were nearing
us, and presently Wagoose showed me all the
pictures of their deeds to come in his magic book.
Then — listen and pity, Kanida — I, forgetting, did
the forbidden thing, unveiled my eyes and looked
Wabeno full in the face, exchanging glance for
glance. This thing my mother did before me,
and thus, knowing too much, she disappeared, and
after one more snow I too must join her in Wabun-
Annung, the Morning Star.'

" Stillness fell on the wigwam ; Wenona stole
away. Kaw-kaw, the Raven, called thrice to
Mang, the Loon, and we knew that Wabeno and
the Dream Fox were hovering near. Kanida sat
musing until his pipe went out, and his lodge fire
also died ; on arousing he had to kindle it anew
by rubbing two dry bits of wood together until
their heat broke out into flames."

"Why didn't he borrow some matches if he
hadn't any? " asked Anne, without thinking ; then,
answering herself, " Of course he couldn't. If
there were no guns or knives or powder or horses
or anything, there weren't any matches, and any-
way I remember that it says in my history that
not so dreadfully long ago even House People

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 103

used to have to make fire by striking iron and flint
together."

" In spite of Wenona's words," continued Bek-
wuk, uthe morning came and no Stone Giants
appeared, for we Arrows had thought they were to
come at once.

" It soon was the Planting Moon, and all the
women of the tribe were busy in the clearing,
planting Mondamin, Maize, and the flat seeds of
Askuta-squash, the Gourd, whose body yielded
food and whose rind made household vessels.
Everywhere there was feasting, dancing, singing,
and magic walking around the field at night to
bless the crops. Mai-mai, the Woodcock, left his
writing in the muddy places, and Wazhusk, the
Muskrat, forsook his winter lodge in the shallow
pond. The leaves hung out on every tree, and
Bemah-gut, the Grapevine, perfumed the air with
her flowers.

" Wenona laughed and sang all that summer
through, and I, Bek-wuk, took many a journey
from the bow of Sacoit, a young warrior who had
bought me. But I always returned in safety to
him, for he shot true and lost no arrows.

" Oh, the joy of flying when the bowstring
twangs ! Did Swallow dart, I darted more

104 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

swiftly ! Did a Wild Duck speed by, I overtook
it ! Did a Deer bound through the woodland,
lightly as a cloud shadow, I bounded after him
and yet was there to meet him !

" With the harvest came yet more feasting and
singing. Wenona joined the other women in strip-
ping the ears of Maize from out the husks, and I,
peeping from Sacoit's quiver, was watching her.

" As she parted the husks a blood red ear of
Maize was left between her fingers. This rare
red ear is a love token with the Red Brothers,
and swift as I fly I could not outspeed the glance
that sped between Sacoit and Wenona. The war-
riors nodded approvingly, and the women laughed
and jostled ; but from that moment she, who had
looked Wabeno in the face unflinchingly, grew

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 105

pale and paler, for well she knew she must not
love a mortal ; she must go unwed to her mother
in the Morning Star, and in her heart she yearned
to stay near Sacoit.

"With early spring strange messengers came to
the village, bringing news from far-off tribes, and
the words 4 Stone Giants ' were often heard. One
day a messenger came in quite spent with running,
and rested in Sacoit's lodge, and as he told his
story drew it also in picture writing on the skin
top of a drum, — a picture of Red Brothers shoot-
ing at strange men whose bodies were concealed
all but the face, and as the arrows touched them
they flew backward.

" The Sachems held long counsels, and the
women made the warriors ready to go forth.

"Soon there was great confusion, — warriors
came and went, returning no more. I learned
that, as Wenona had said, strange people, some
with stone bodies, had come and seized the Red
Man's land, people against whom we Arrows
wrecked ourselves vainly, people of fair words
who yet carried Ishkodah, the Comet, for a
weapon. I longed to see them, but I seemed
forgotten.

" One day Sacoit dashed to his lodge, seized me,
and carried me to the council rock where many

106 STORIES OF EAKTH AND SKY

chiefs assembled. On the way we passed Wenona,
and Sacoit signed to her that she should touch my
point ; thus, for the second time, I felt the magic
of her fingers. There on the rock lay an empty
skin of a gigantic Bad One ; in it were crammed
some arrows, and I was placed with them. Soon
Sacoit left for a long journey, carrying the snake
skin full of arrows with him.

" Many days we travelled, resting but never
sleeping, until we were close upon a clearing such
as I had never seen among Red Brothers. There
were no wigwams like theirs, but strange, square
lodges built of the trunks of trees laid crosswise,
with traplike openings in them, and strange beasts
were walled in pits and pens.

" As I gazed from out the skin of Crotalus, my
eyes saw a Stone Giant walking toward one of
these lodges. The picture writing said truly, his
body was covered all but the face, and as he
walked slowly and heavily the covering that he
wore glistened in the light, and I knew it could
not be stone."

" It must have been armour — steel armour,"
interrupted Anne. " You know, Bek-wuk, when
the Pilgrim Fathers first came over to settle in
this country it was so long ago that some of them
wore kind of steel coats and hats to protect them

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 107

in war, and if the Red Brothers had never seen
any before I don't wonder they thought them
made of stone. But please go on — what did
Sacoit do with the arrows ? "

" When it grew dark he slipped between the
trees and going to the lodge entered the largest
trap-hole. I thought he would surely be caught,
but he was fearless. In the lodge were many
Stone Giants sitting about a long flat board raised
from the ground, but they did not sit upon skins
spread on the earth like warriors, but were raised
high above it."

" Of course, soldiers would sit on chairs and
benches," said Anne.

" They had no spears or bows and arrows with
them, but beside each rested a strange stick in
which, I soon learned, they held Ishkodah, the
fire-tailed Comet.

" When Sacoit entered he threw the skin of
Crotalus before the one that seemed the chief of
these Stone Giants ; then he began to talk in sign
language, and wrath shone from his face and from
the faces of the others. Only Sacoit, the Messen-
ger, was silent and immovable.

" All night long they argued, and at dawn they
gave the messenger food which he did not touch,
and the chief Giant, emptying the arrows from the

108 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

snake skin, put in it hard round balls and hurled it
at Sacoit, with loud words of defiance.

" I had dropped far from the other arrows, and
in passing out Sacoit seized and concealed me,
whom Wenona had touched, so I went back with
him to bear a bitter message to his tribe. When
we returned, we found Wenona had gone."

" Then war began ; our warriors poured down
and harried the Stone Giants, and many that
were with them were not of stone, and we arrows
could pierce them, and flames from our dry sticks
devoured their lodges.

" What it was all about I knew not ; 'but I saw
balls, such as Sacoit bore home, fly from the sticks
the Stone Giants carried and kill our young men
more quickly than I could kill a wild fowl. Food
was scarce, for there was scant time for hunting,
and maids, women, and children stayed close within
the village upon the cliff top.

" One evening Kaw-kaw came flapping noiseless
to the village, — an ominous sight indeed, — and
Ko-ko-ko-ho exchanged greetings with him and
flew into the forest, followed by all the colony of
birds of field and tree.

" Apuk-wa, the Bulrush, whispered, 4 They
come, the Stone Giants come, — Wabun tells it I

BEK-WUK, THE ARROW 109

Listen ! Annemeekee, the Thunder, proclaims it !
Creep to the east under the dark's mantle ;
attack, Red Brothers ; it is your only hope ! '

" So the warriors crossed the river and crept
downward many miles, and there, when Wawa-
sa-mo, the Lightning, played its pranks, they at-
tacked the camp of the half-sleepy foe. Up and
down, in and out of the trees they fought, but the
bullets overmatched poor Bek-wuk's tribe, and all
the earth was strewn with crippled arrows. The
Red Brothers kindled a line of fire, thinking to sur-
round the Stone Giants by it, but were themselves
cut off. Kanivva was slain, and Kanida, and then
Sacoit, after shooting me, his very last arrow.

" Of the women and children, some were made
prisoners and some escaped to other tribes, but
from that day to this no Red Brothers have had
their lodges on the cliff. And I have lain buried
all these years, unhandled by maiden fingers from
the time Wenona touched me until to-day, when
you, of the Stone Giants' line, have picked me up."

" You poor darling Bek-wuk, I'm going to keep
you always and have a gold loop put in you and
hang you around my neck. To think that all this
happened in our Held ! But why did the sol-
diers and Red Brothers fight ? Which was really

110 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

wrong ? I can never quite seem to find out ex-
actly, except that both wanted the land, and the
strongest got it."

"How should I know? I am but an Arrow-
head. I have only seen a glimpse here and there,
and those Red Brothers cannot tell, for they have
all gone after Wenona, while the children of the
Stone Giants flourish. Who was right and who
was wrong ? Ask Wabeno, the Magician."

OX was brought in from
pasture a week before
Anne returned from tbe
shore, so that the dear
old horse was the first thing
she saw on driving through the
home gateway. His eyes were bright,
his coat looked as glossy as good brush-
ing could make it, his hoofs were in fine
shape and nicely polished, his mane,
though rather short, was nicely combed,
and he wore a tan-coloured bridle with blue ear
knots, and the prettiest imaginable saddle with

ill

112 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

a blue cloth. As for his tail, it was such an ad-
mirable match for his mane, and so well fastened
by the crupper, that no one would have imagined
that it was not the original home-grown article.

Of course his legs were not as straight or his
waist as slim as if he had not been through so
many hardships, but what of that ? If everything
had gone well with him, he would not have come
drifting back to the Horse Farm, Miss Jule would
not have had the joy of curing him, or Anne of
riding him.

Anne scrambled from the depot wagon almost
before it stopped, and threw her arms first around
Fox's neck and then hugged Miss Jule, who had
been hiding in the shadow of the house, the better
to see the meeting. Then Lumberlegs came
bounding up bow-bowing with joy. He had
grown so much that when he put his paws on
Anne's shoulders to lick her nose, he looked quite
over her head.

At this Waddles set up his most vigorous bay-
ing, Fox neighed, and for a moment nobody could
hear themselves even think.

As for Lily, she was too happy to make a sound,
but throwing herself at her little master's feet she
licked his dusty shoes.

WABENO'S GIFT 113

After having been away for nearly two months,
of course there was a great deal for the children
to see on their return, and they made fresh dis-
coveries every day.

Their gardens had overgrown all bounds.
Anne's still looked very pretty, thanks to Obi's
care in weeding it and keeping the sweet peas
from going to seed ; but Tommy's was a wreck.
The onions at the corners had sent up long flower
stalks, which had gone to seed and tumbled over,
and the peas and beans were yellow and full of
dry pods. The squash vines, however, were mag-
nificent and covered the fence, while the yellow
crooknecks peeped from between the big rough
leaves.

" It will soon be time to take up my geraniums
to keep in my window," said Anne, as they were
looking at their gardens one September morning.
" You haven't anything to pick or take up, Tom-
my ; wouldn't you like one of my Fuchsias and a
Heliotrope ? "

"Yes, I've lots to pick, — beans and peas and
everything ! Course they're rather dry to cook
for us, but I tan feed them to the hungry quail
birds next winter ; and oh, Anne, do help me tount
my stwashes ! Obi says there is 'leven or fifteen ;
I've dot 'nough to make a whole flock of lovely

114 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

ornaments for Miss Jule, and, Anne, what do you
fink ? If you'll help me put their feathers on, I'll
div you one for yourself."

One afternoon Anne strolled down to the po-
tato field where she had found Bek-wuk, the Arrow-
head. The potatoes had been dug, the ground
ploughed, arid Baldy was preparing to sow it with
wheat from the bag that stood by the stone fence.
The other home fields and those that belonged to
the Horse Farm were empty, the wheat, rye, and
oats that had grown in them having long ago been
reaped, and the buzz of the threshing-machine
sounded from the great barn. Even the corn in
the valley fields was being gathered into stacks
like wigwams.

A Crow flew awkwardly overhead, perched on
the fence, and reaching over pecked inquisitively
at the bag of wheat, giving a squawk and jump
when he discovered Anne. It was the one-eyed
Crow with the lame wing.

"Oh, ho! is that you, Raw Ondaig? What
have you been doing all summer, and how dared
the other Crows come back from the mountain
where the Bird Brotherhood sent them ? There
are Crows in every field as far as I can see, besides

WABENO'S GIFT 115

those that are talking way over in the Miller's
wood."

" How have I been ? Very well and comfort-
able, plenty to eat and no harrying. I was so
honest down at the Farm that, until the corn
ripened, I almost forgot that I was a Crow. As
for the rest of the tribe, do you not remember
that they were only banished during the song
birds' nesting season, and that is over long since ?
They have come back to the cornfields for their
tithe of the harvest."

" Yes, of course, to steal corn when there are no
more nests to rob. I would not be so kind as the
Bird Brotherhood ; if I had my way, the Crows
should go away for good."

" House People cannot drive us away," screamed
the old Crow, flapping his wings boldly; "they
shoot and harry us, tempt us with poisoned food,
and still we are here at the corn harvest — it is
our right ; Wabeno gave it to us through our an-
cestor, Kaw-kaw, the northern Raven. Yes, ask
Wabeno, the Magician, and he will tell you that
it is so."

Anne felt a little abashed at Kaw Ondaig's
fierceness, and, climbing over the fence to the
first cornfield, she threw herself down in the
shade of one of the stacks, nestling backward

116 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

among the long leaves until she seemed to be
sitting in the doorway of a wigwam.

The Crows came flapping and calling about her,
and Mudjekeewis, the West Wind, whispered and
gossiped about the field, while from a far corner
a Quail family were making their way to glean
their supper among the oat stubble.

"I don't believe that Wabeno ever told the
Crows that they could take corn every year,"
said Anne aloud.

" Yes, he did," said Mudjekeewis ; " I was there
and heard him say so myself. To be sure, it was
very long ago, on the very day when Wabeno gave
the gift of corn to the Red Brothers."

" Ah, so you are back again ! Don't be in a
hurry, Mudjekeewis, but come and rest in this
nice tent, and tell me about the Red Brothers
and Wabeno. Was corn a very great gift to
them?"

" Yes, Mondamin, Maize, or, as you say, corn,
meant bread to them ; bread when the buffalo were
gone, bread when all wild game failed. House
Child, do you know that in all the corners of the
world where I have been bread is the greatest gift
of earth to man?"

" Of course, bread is a ' must be,' but we do not
make ours of corn meal."

W ABEND'S GIFT 117

" Different grains for different lands," said the
Wind ; " grains for heat and grains for cold, and
of all the grains —

" I am the King," whispered the Wheat that
Baldy was sowing, to the Wind that helped scatter
it. " No man knows from whence I came or what
country gave me birth ; before man could be I was,
and if I should disappear man would follow. The
world waits each harvest to know how I have
thriven, that it may measure its strength. I am
hearty myself ; I need deep, sharp soil to eat and
from which to rear my proud head on a straight,
stiff stalk."

" I am more humble," called the scattered Rye
in the thresher ; " the bread I yield is dark and
coarse, truly, but the ploughman loves it. I can
grow anywhere, and on my straws the well-fed
cattle sleep sound o' winter nights, while I give
them dreams of summer pasturing."

" I am Monomin, the magic grain," said the Oats
that the Quail were gleaning. " I whisper to the
tired, hungry horse, ' Up and away ! ' and fire re-
turns to his eye and strength to his limbs as he
feels me stirring within him. Then in bleak,
northern lands I give the people vital heat and
life in bread and porridge."

" There are two other grains that I know well,"

118

STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

said Mudjekeewis, " Rice, the bread of
the most far-away East, and Barley
that lives and thrives from north to
south and is swallowed both as bread
and as beer. The Wheat spoke truly,
in the strength of the Corn Brother-
hood lies the strength of the world."

" I want to hear where our corn came
from and how Wabeno gave it to
the Red Brothers," said Anne.
"Come back, please, and tell me
the story."

" How and whence Mondamin,
or Indian corn, came ? " said Mudje-
keewis, sinking to the ground and
breathing lightly. "How came ^>E
it? That I can answer. Whence?
That is my friend's, Wabeno's, secret.
Even of the manner of its coming
there are many legends. I tell you
only what I know, and if any doubt
my tale, as you repeat it, only say,
4 Mudjekeewis told me this, let it suf-
fice,' " and the Wind's voice sank to
a whisper.

" In a pleasant country lived an Indian with his
squaw and family; but it was a hungry land, so

OAl

WABENO'S GIFT 119

what signified beautiful valleys if no buffaloes
grazed in them, or deep silent woods if no deer and
wild fowl were sheltered there ?

" It was early spring. The Indian had no grown
sons to go on the far-away hunting trail ; his chil-
dren were young and wailed with hunger as the
dried fish and meat began to fail, and it was not
yet time for the spring shad running.

" The oldest child was a youth upon whose time-
stick were cut the notches of fourteen winters, and
in his heart he longed to help his parents, but
knew not how.

" When an Indian boy has lived fourteen winters,
he is no longer called a child ; his play days are put
away from him, divided from his manhood by a fast-
ing time of seven days. During these days the boy
lives alone on the wood edge in a hut his mother
builds. Alone with Heart of Nature and the Great
Spirit, which is the name the Red Brothers give
Heart of God ; alone, with time to think. If the
boy was held worthy in this fasting Wabeno would
send Wagoose, the Dream Fox, to him with a dream
which, being read aright, would bring good to all
the people of his tribe.

" This boy, called Penaisee — little bird —
by the tribe, because he could make almost every
bird note with his flute of hollow reeds, longed for

120

STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

the fasting time to come
in the hope that he might
see in a dream how to
bring plenty again to his
people.

" When the Willows
began to grow green a1
the tips, flowers whitened
the meadows, and he
saw his mother
steal to the wood
edge and weave to-
gether a rude wigwam,
he knew the fasting
time had come, and h<
hastened to keep it glad-
ly. The silence only
elated him at first. He
went about peeping here
and there, gathering arm
fuls of blossoms and hea
ing them on the ground
for a bed, where he spent
the first night looking
at the stars and watch-
ing for Wabeno and the
Dream Fox. For five days he wandered thus,

WABENO'S GIFT 121

watching each night, nothing but water passing his
lips, until his body grew spent and his eyes hollow
with hunger, and, picking with his last strength a
branch of Dogwood blossoms, he staggered to his
wigwam in despair, saying : 4 Wabeno will not give
a dream. I shall starve and my people also.'

" This was at twilight on the sixth day. Then
we Winds took pity on Penaisee and whispered
to him counsel : ' Lie down, Penaisee, little bird,
and close the outward eyes, for by them never may
Wabeno be seen ; it is the inward eye, open only
in sleep, that may see the Dream Fox's picture
book. Sleep, Penaisee, sleep and wait ! '

" Penaisee obeyed, and as the light of the full
Planting Moon crept round and looked him in the
face, he saw coming between the trees the mystic
figure of Wabeno, clad in strange green leaves,
while Kaw-kaw, the Raven, flew near him, Wa-
goose following.

" Raising one hand, Wabeno struck the magic
drum, which gave a strange rattling noise, while
with the other he made passes in the air. On he
walked, straight into the wigwam, which grew
higher that it might receive him. Then he
stooped by Penaisee, touched him upon the ears
and lips to signify that he was to listen, but not
speak.

122 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

"Next Wabeno unfastened the skin that cov-
ered his magic drum and, lo ! the bowl was filled
with round pale yellow kernels like small rough
pebbles. Laying these on the ground he carefully
covered his drum again and spoke, while at his
words the Whippoorwill hushed its calling and
the Night-hawk paused in mid air, with spread
wings, in sheer amazement.

" 4 Penaisee,' he said, ' I know your wish and
your need. Because your wish is not for yourself
alone, I listen. For my gift I give these magic
seeds from out my magic drum. Sleep yet another
night, then arise and with a crooked stick make
holes a stride apart in yonder open ground. In
each hole put three kernels, one for me, one for
thee, and one for Wagoose, the Dream Fox. Cover
them and watch the growth. For two moons
draw the earth upward about what grows, and keep
wasting weeds away. At midsummer full moon,
when your fasting lodge is empty, will I come and
touch the flowers that grow upon the stalks to
make them fruitful.'

" Then Wabeno stooped, and picking up a
spray of Dogwood blossoms, laid them on the
boy's eyes, saying : 4 This shall be a sign to you.
Yearly when these flowers bloom it is the time to
sow the seed of Mondamin, Wabeno's gift.'

WABENO IN THE MAIZE FIELD

WABKNO'S GIFT 123

" Then Kaw-kaw, the Raven, croaked sadly,
4 Wabeno, master, I starve. Why do you give
away the magic seeds?' And Wabeno, smiling,
said, i Penaisee, forget not my comrade Kaw-kaw;
but in the harvest time that as yet you know not
of, let him also share my gift with you.'

" Then Wagoose walked down the moonbeams
and unrolled a birch bark scroll, and on it, as
Penaisee gazed, was painted the picture of a
field of corn, with Wabeno walking in the moon-
light touching the filling ears.

" Penaisee remained asleep, and on the seventh
dawn when he awoke he found the magic kernels
where Wabeno placed them. Then feeling fresh
strength within him, he made the holes a stride
apart and covered the kernels well with earth ;
then, turning, gave morning greeting to the Sun,
and by its first rays he saw his father standing by
the lodge bearing a dish of food. Neither spoke,
but each one understood.

"Every moon did Penaisee draw the earth
around the stout green stalks, and as he toiled
he grew in stature like the corn stalks, taller
than any of his race. When the moon before
the Moon of Falling Leaves arrived, he sent a
message to the tribe to come and gather in the
ears and to receive Wabeno's gift of bread. On

124 STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY

that day Wabeno whispered, 6Let the boy no
longer be called Penaisee, a little bird, but Wen-
digo, the giant.' And ever after that moon was
called by all the tribe, Mondamin, or the Maize
Moon."

******

Anne looked across the fields. The wind arose
from the corn stack beside her and followed her
thoughts afar.

" I'm so happy and it's all so beautiful, the fields
and the sky and the animals and father-mother
and Tommy and — everything — Oh, how I wish
Heart of Nature would give me the magic crystals,
so that I could see the other Heart too ! "

"Be content, House Child," said the familiar
voice close to her heart, "you see more than you
may yet understand. You have the precious crys-
tals in your keeping; for it is only by looking
through the eyes of Heart of Nature and Heart of
Man that on this earth you may see Heart of God ! "

GLOSSARY

Annemee'kee. Thunder.
Apuk'wa. The Bulrush.
Askuta-squash. The Squash
or Gourd.

Bek'wuk. The Arrow.

Chi-kaug. The Skunk.
Coon Moon. February.
Corn Moon. August.

Dahin'da. The Bullfrog.
Deer Moon. October.
Dibik'gezis. The Night Sun,
the Moon.

Ghee'zis. The Sun.
Goose Moon. April.

Hard Moon. January.
Iskodah. A Comet.

Kabibonok'ka. The North

Wind.

Kayoshk'. The Sea Gull.
Keeway'din. Northwest or

Home Wind.
Ko'ko'ko'ho. ' The Great

Horned Owl.

Little Oo-oo. The Screech Owl.

Mai-mai. The Woodcock.
Midsummer Moon. July.

Mon'da'min. Maize, Indian
Corn.

Mon'o'min. Oats.

Moon of Falling Leaves. Sep-
tember.

Moon of Snow Blindness.
March.

Moon of Snow Shoes. De-
cember.

0-o-chug. The House Fly.
Ondaig. The Crow.
Owais'sa. The Bluebird.

Peboan. Winter.

Penai-see. Little Bird, Hum-
mingbird.

Planting Moon. May.

Puk-Wudj'ies. Little Vanish-
ing People.

Shawonda'see. The South
Wind.

Wabasso. The White Rabbit,
the North.

Wabeno. The Magician.

Wabun-An'nung. The Morn-
ing Star.

Wabun. The East Wind

Wa' goose. The Dream Fox.

Wawa-sa-mo. Lightning.

Waz'husk. The Muskrat.

Weeng. The Spirit of Sleep.

Wendigo. A Giant.

125

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

LONG-EARED OWL.

(See page 48.)

THE HEART OF NATURE

BY

MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT

AUTHOR OF "STORIES OF EARTH AND SKY," "STORIES
OF PLANTS AND ANIMALS," ETC., ETC.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
LOUIS AGASSIZ FUERTES AND ERNEST THOMPSON SETON

THIRD BOOK

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

gotfe
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1906

All rights reserved

COPYRIGHT, 1897, 1898, 1904,
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.

Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1904.
Reprinted August, 1904.

New edition, in one volume, September, 1906.

J. S. Cashing & Co. — Berwick & SmitH Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.

SCENE:
THE ORCHARD FARM.

CHARACTERS:

DR. ROY HUNTER, a naturalist.

OLIVE, the Doctor's daughter.

NAT and DODO, the Doctor's nephew and niece.

MR. and MRS. BLAKE, the parents of Nat and Dodo.

RAP, a lame country boy.

MAMMY BUN, an old colored nurse and cook.

ROD, the farmer.

OLAF, a sailor and fisherman.

NEZ LONG, a charcoal burner and woodsman.

TOINETTE, Nez' wife.

QUICK, a fox terrier.

MR. WOLF, a St. Bernard dog.

vii

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. OVERTURE BY THE BIRDS . . . 1

II. THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 9

III. THE BIRD'S NEST . . . . . . .30

IV. CANNIBALS IN COURT ...... 41

V. CHORUS BY THE BIRDS 60

VI. MONARCHS IN EXILE . . . . . . 63

VII. WOLF ! 85

VIII. UNDER THE POLAR STAR 98

IX. A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME .... 114

X. THE BEAVER'S STORY . 130

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGES

Long-eared Owl Frontispiece

Bills of Birds 21, 22

Feet of Birds 24, 25

Parts of the Bird 29

Golden Eagle 44

Screech Owl .......... 46

Snowy Owl 49

Great Horned Owl 51

Marsh Hawk 53

Sharp-shinned Hawk ........ 54

Red-shouldered Hawk ........ 55

Sparrow Hawk .. a ...... 57

Bald Eagle . 59

The Bison 66

Timber Wolf 84

Woodland Caribou .100

Musk Ox ... 102

Polar Bear and Seal 104

Atlantic AValrus 108

Sea Bear or Fur Seal 113

Harbor Seal 118

Beavers at Work . 122

3d

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

OVERTURE BY THE BIRDS

'* We would have you to wit, that on eggs though we sit,

And are spiked on the spit, and are baked in a pan ;
Birds are older by far than your ancestors are,

And made love and made war, ere the making of man ! "

(Andrew Lang.}

A PARTY of Swallows perched on the telegraph wires
beside the highway where it passed Orchard Farm.
They were resting after a breakfast of insects, which
they had caught on the wing, after the custom of their
family. As it was only the first of May they had
plenty of time before nest-building, and so were having
a little neighborly chat.

If you had glanced at these birds carelessly, you
might have thought they were all of one kind ; but
they were not. The smallest was the Bank Swallow,
a sober-hued little fellow, with a short, sharp-pointed
tail, his back feathers looking like a dusty brown
cloak, fastened in front by a neck-band between his
light throat and breast.

Next to him perched the Barn Swallow, a bit larger,
with a tail like an open pair of glistening scissors and

B 1

2 STOBIES OF BIliDS AND BEASTS

his face and throat a beautiful ruddy buff. There
were so many glints of color on his steel-blue back and
wings, as he spread them in the sun, that it seemed as
if in some of his flights he must have collided with a
great soap-bubble, which left its shifting hues upon
him as it burst.

This Barn Swallow was very much worried about
something, and talked so fast to his friend the Tree
Swallow, that his words sounded like twitters and
giggles ; but you would know they were words, if you
could only understand them.

The Tree Swallow wore a greenish-black cloak and a
spotless white vest. He was trying to be polite and
listen to the Barn Swallow as well as to the Purple
Martin (the biggest Swallow of all), who was a little
further along on the wire ; but as they both spoke at
once, he found it a difficult matter.

" We shall all be turned out, I know," complained
the Barn Swallow, "and after we have as good as
owned Orchard Farm these three years, it is too bad.
Those meddlesome House People have put two new
pieces of glass in the hayloft window, arid how shall I
ever get in to build my nest ? "

" They may leave the window open," said the Bank
Swallow soothingly, for he had a cheerful disposition ;
" I have noticed that hayloft windows are usually left
open in warm weather."

" Yes, they may leave it open, and then shut it some
day after I have gone in," snapped Barney, darting off
the perch to catch a fly, and grasping the wire so vio-
lently on his return, that the other birds fluttered and
almost lost their footing.

OVERTURE BY THE BIRDS 3

" What is all this trouble about ? " asked the Martin
in his soft rich voice. u I live ten miles further up
country, and only pass here twice a year, so that I do
not know the latest news. Why must you leave the
farm ? It seems to be a charming place for Bird People.
I see a little box under the barn eaves that would make
me a fine house."

" It is a delightful place for us," replied the Barn
Swallow; "but now the House People who own the
farm are coming back to live here themselves, and
everything is turned topsy-turvy. They should have
asked us if we were willing for them to come. Bird
People are of a much older race than House People
anyway ; it says so in their books, for I heard Rap, the
lame boy down by the mill, reading about it one day
when he was sitting by the river."

All the other birds laughed merrily at this, and the
Martin said, "Don't be greedy, Brother Barney; those
people are quite welcome to their barns and houses,
if they will only let us build in their trees. Bird
People own the whole sky and some of our race dive in
the sea and swim in the rivers where no House People
can follow us."

" You may say what you please," chattered poor
unhappy Barney, " everything is awry. The Wrens
always built behind the window-blinds, and now these
blinds are flung wide open. The Song Sparrow nested
in the long grass under the lilac bushes, but now it is
all cut short ; and they have trimmed away the nice
mossy branches in the orchard where hundreds of the
brothers built. Besides this, the Bluebird made his
nest in a hole in the top of the old gate post, and what

4 STORIES OF BIEDS AND BEASTS

have those people done but put up a new post with no
hole in it ! "

" Dear ! dear ! Think of it, think of it ! " sang the
Bluebird softly, taking his place on the wire with the
others.

" What if these people should bring children with
them," continued Barney, who had not finished airing
his grievances — " little BOYS and CATS! Children
who might climb up to our nests and steal our eggs,
boys with guns perhaps, and striped cats which no one
can see, with feet that make no sound, and such claws
and teeth — it makes me shiver to think of it." And
all the birds shook so that the wire quivered and the
Bank Swallow fell off, or would have fallen, if he had
not spread his wings and saved himself.

The Martin had nothing to say to this, but the little
Bank Swallow, though somewhat shaken up, whispered,
"There may be children who do not rob nests, and
other boys like Rap, who would never shoot us. Cats
are always sad things for birds, but these House People
may not keep any ! " And then he moved down a wire
or two, frightened at having given his opinion.

At that moment a Chimney Swift joined the group.
This Swift, who nests in chimneys, is the sooty-colored
bird that flies and feeds on the wing like a Swallow,
and when he is in the air looks like a big spruce cone
with wings. He was followed by a Catbird, who had
been in a honeysuckle, by one of the farmhouse win-
dows, and peeped inside out of curiosity. Both were
excited and evidently bubbling over with news, which
half the birds of the orchard were following them to
hear.

OVERTURE BY THE BIRDS 5

"I know all about it," cried the Swift, bracketting
himself against the telegraph pole for a long talk.

" I've seen the House People! " screamed the Catbird.

" They wish well to the Bird People, and we shall be
happier than before ! " squeaked the Swift, breathless
and eager. "Listen! " — and the birds all huddled to-
gether. "This morning when I flew down the chim-
ney, wondering if I should dare build my nest there
again, I heard a noise on the outside, so I dropped as
far as I could and listened.

44 A voice said, 4 Mammy Bun, we will leave this
chimney for the birds ; do not make a fire here until
after they have nested! ' I was so surprised that I
nearly fell into the grate."

" And I," interrupted the Catbird, " was looking in
the window and saw the man who spoke, and Mammy
Bun too. She is a very big person, wide like a wood-
chuck, and has a dark face like the House People down
in the warm country where I spend the winter."

44 There are children at the farm, I've seen them too,"
cried the Phoebe, who usually lived under the eaves of
the cow-shed; 44 three of them — one big girl, one little
girl, and a BOY! "

44 1 told you so! " lisped the Barn Swallow; and a
chorus of ohs and ahs arose that sounded like a strange
message buzzing along the wires.

44 The BOY has a pocket full of pebbles and a shooter,"
gasped the Phcebe, pausing as if nothing more shocking
could be said.

44 Yes, but the big girl coaxed the shooter away from
him," said the Chimney Swift, who was quite provoked
because .his story had been interrupted; 44she said,

6 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

4 Cousin Nat, father won't let you shoot birds here or
do anything to frighten them away, for he loves them
and has spent half his life watching them and learning
their ways, and they have grown so fearless hereabouts
that they are like friends.'

" But Nat said, 4 Do let me shoot some, Cousin Olive.
I don't see why Uncle Roy likes them. What good
are birds anyway? They only sit in the street and
say "chuck, chuck, chuck" all day long.'

44 4 You say that because you have always lived in the
city and the only birds you have watched are the Eng-
lish Sparrows, who are really as disagreeable as birds
can possibly be,' said the big girl; 'but here you will
see all the beautiful wild birds.'

" Then the little girl said, ' Why, brother, you always
loved our Canary! '

" 4 Yes, but he is different; he is nice and yellow, and
he knows something and sings too like everything; he
isn't like these common tree birds.' '

"Common tree birds indeed! " shrieked the Catbird.

" That is what the boy called us," said the Chimney
Swift, who then went on with his story about what he
had heard the children say.

" ' Why you silly dear! ' cried the big girl, laughing
a sweet little laugh like the Bobolink's song, ' that only
proves how little you know about wild birds. Plenty
of them are more brightly colored than your Canary,
and some of those that wear the plainest feathers sing
more beautifully than all the Canaries and cage birds in
the world. This summer, when you have made friends
with these wild birds, and they have let you see their
homes and learn their secrets, you will make up your

OVERTURE BY THE BIRDS 1

mind that there are no common birds ; for every one of
them has something very uncommon about it.'

" Then our brother B. Oriole began to sing in the
sugar maple over the shed. The sun was shining on
his gay coat ; the little girl pointed to him and whis-
pered, 4 Hush, Nat ! you see Olive is right ; please
empty the stones out of your pocket.' '

The Chimney Swift had hardly finished his story
when there was another excitement.

"News, more news!" called the Bank Swallow joy-
fully. He had been taking a skim over the meadows
and orchard. "These House People do not keep cats! "

"They may not have any now, but that doesn't
prove they never will," said a Robin crossly. He had
just flown against a window, not understanding about
the glass, and had a headache in consequence.

" They never will keep cats" insisted the little Swal-
low boldly.

"How do you know?" asked the birds in one breath.

" Because they keep dogs ! " said Bankey, twittering
with glee; "two nice dogs. One big and buff and bushy,
with a much finer tail than the proudest fox you ever
saw ; and the other small and white with some dark
spots, and as quick as a squirrel. This one has a short
tail that sticks up like a Wren's and a nose like a
weasel ; one ear stands up and the other hangs down ;
and he has a terrible wink in one eye. Even a poor
little Bank Swallow knows that where one of these
dogs lives the Bird People need not fear either cats
or rats! "

" I love dogs," said the black-and-white Downy
Woodpecker, running up a telegraph pole in search of

8 STOEIES OF BIEDS AND BEASTS

grubs ; " dogs have bones to eat and I like to pick
bones, especially in winter."

u Me too," chimed in the Nuthatch, who walks chiefly
head down and wears a fashionable white vest and black
necktie with a gray coat ; " and sometimes they leave
bits of fat about. Yes, dogs are very friendly things
indeed."

Then a joyful murmur ran all along the wires, and
Farmer Griggs, who was driving past, said to himself,
" Powerful lot of 'lectricity on to-day ; should think
them S wallers would get shock't and kil't." But it
was only the birds whispering together ; agreeing to
return to their old haunts at Orchard Farm and give
the House Children a chance to learn that there are
no such things as " common " birds.

II

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD

IT rained on Wednesday — a warm spring rain, swell-
ing the rivers and ponds, and watering the newly
planted garden ; but discouraging the birds in their
nest-building, and disappointing Nat and Dodo, who
wished to have their lesson in the orchard.

" Come in here, children," said the Doctor. " The
wonder room, as Dodo calls it, is a good place for a
talk about feathers and bones, and the rest of the
things birds are built of. I have sent for Rap, too, so
that the trio may be complete."

" Feathers and bones for building birds ? " said Nat.
" What a queer idea for a bird story."

"Not a bird story exactly," answered the Doctor.
" But some things are true of all birds, and you must
know them if you wish to understand the reason why
of any bird in particular."

In a few minutes the three children were seated or
the wide settle, with a cheery log fire, to make them
forget the outside dampness. Quick, the fidgety little
fox-terrier, sat by the hearth, watching a possible
mouse hole ; and Mr. Wolf, the tawny St. Bernard,
chose the rug as a comfortable place for finishing his
morning toilet.

Olive presently joined the group. The Doctor took

0

10 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

the dead White-throated Sparrow from the table, and
began to walk about the room, stopping now in front
of the fire and then by the window.

" Here is a Sparrow, different from every other kind
of Sparrow, different indeed from any other sort of
bird in the world — else it would not be the particu-
lar sort of a Sparrow called the White-throated. But
there are a good many things that it has in common
with all other birds. Can you tell me some of them ? "

"I know ! " said Dodo ; "it has a good many feathers
on it, and I guess all kinds of birds wear feathers, ex-
cept some when they are very little in the nest."

" Quite right, little girl," said the Doctor. " Every
bird has feathers, and no other animal has feathers.
So we say, 'A bird is known by its feathers.' But
what do you suppose its feathers are for ? "

" To make it look nice and pretty," said Dodo
promptly.

" To make it lighter, so's it can fly," added Nat.

" To keep it warm, too, I guess," was Rap's answer.

" Well, you are all three partly, but not quite, right.
Certainly the beauty of a bird depends most on its
feathers, being not even skin-deep, as you may well
believe, if you ever noticed a chicken Mammy Bun
had plucked. But, Nat, how can feathers make a bird
lighter, when every one of them weighs something,
and a bird has to carry them all ? They make a bird a
little heavier than it would be without them. Yet it
is quite true that no bird could fly if you clipped its
wings. So some of its feathers enable it to fly — the
large ones, that grow on 4he wings. Then, too, the
large ones that make the tail help the bird to fly, by

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 11

acting like a rudder to steer with. Perhaps the small
ones too, all over the body, are of some help in flight,
because they make a bird smooth, so that it can cut
through the air more easily — you know they all lie
one way, pointing backward from their roots to their
tips. Then when Rap said feathers keep a bird
warm, he guessed right. Birds wear plumage as you
do clothes, and for the same purpose — to look nice
and keep warm."

" But what is ' plumage,' Uncle Roy ? " asked Dodo ;
"I thought you were talking about feathers."

" So I was, missy. Feathers are the plumage, when
you take them all together. But see here," added the
Doctor, as he spread the Sparrow's wings out, and held
them where the children could look closely ; " are the
wings all plumage, or is there something else ? "

" Of course there's something else to wings," said
Dodo ; " meat and bones, because I've eaten chickens'
wings."

" Why didn't you say, Dodo, because there has to
be something for the feathers to stick into ? " said Nat
decidedly.

" You both have very good reasons," said the Doctor.
" The plumage of the wings grows out from the skin,
just as feathers grow from any other part of the body,
only the large ones are fastened to the bones, so that
they stay tight in their proper places. If they were
loose, they would fly up when the bird beats the air
with its wings, and get out of order. See how
smoothly they lie one over another ! When the bird
closes its wings, they come together snugly along its
sides. But when the wing is spread, they slide apart

12 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

— yet not too far to form a broad, flat surface, quite
stiff, but light and elastic. By beating the air with
the wings birds fly along. It is something like row-
ing a boat. This surface pushes against the air as
the flat blade of an oar pushes against the water.
That is why these large stiff feathers are called the
rowers. When the Wise Men talk Latin among them-
selves, they say remiges, for 'remiges' means rowers."

" But, Doctor," said Rap, who was looking sharply
at the Sparrow's wing, " all the feathers are not like
that. Here are a lot of little ones, in rows on top
of the wing in front, and more like them underneath,
covering over the roots of the rowing feathers. Have
they any name ? "

" Oh, yes ! Everything you can see about a bird
has its own name. Those small feathers are called
coverts, because they cover over the roots of the rowers.
Those on top are the upper coverts ; those underneath
are the under coverts, or lining of the wings. Now
notice those two pretty bands of color across the Spar-
row's wing. You see one band is formed by the tips
of the longest coverts, and the other band by the
tips of the next longest coverts. Those two rows of
feathers are the greater arid middle coverts, and all the
smallest feathers, next to the front edge of the wing,
are called lesser coverts. Now look at the tail, Rap,
and tell me what you can find."

" Why, there is a bunch of long stiff feathers like
rowers, that slide over each other when you spread
the tail, and a lot of short feathers that hide the
roots of the long ones. Are they rowers and coverts
too ? "

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 13

" A bird does not row with his tail — he steers with
it, as if it were a rudder ; and the long feathers are
therefore called rudder-feathers — or rectrices, which is
Latin for rudders. But the short ones are called cov-
erts, like those of the wings — upper tail-coverts, and
under tail-coverts."

" How funny ! " said Dodo, " for a bird to have to
row himself and steer himself all at once. I know I
should get mixed up if I tried it with a boat. How do
feathers grow, Uncle Roy ? "

" Just like your hair, little girl," said the Doctor,
patting her on the head, " or your nails. Didn't you
ever notice the dots all over the skin of a chicken ?
Each dot is a little hole in the skin where a feather
sprouts. It grows in a sheath that pushes out of the
hole, like a plant coining up out of the ground from its
root. For a while this sheath is full of blood to nour-
ish the growing feather ; that is why new feathers look
dark and feel soft — pin-feathers they are called. The
blood dries up when the feather has unfolded to its full
size, leaving it light and dry, with a horny part at the
root that sticks in the hole where it grew, and a spray-
like part that makes up most of the feather. The
horny part becomes hollow or contains only a little dry
pith ; when it is large enough, as in the case of a row-
ing feather from a Goose's wing, it makes a quill pen to
write with. But the very tiniest feather on this Spar-
row is built up in the same way.

"See! here is one," continued the Doctor, as he
twitched out a feather from the Sparrow's back. " You
see the quill part runs in the middle from one end to
the other ; this is called the shaft. On each side of it

14 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

all along, except just at the root, the spray-like parts
grow. They are. called the webs or vanes. Now look
through this magnifying glass at the web."

The children looked in turn, and each exclaimed in
wonder at the sight.

"Yes, it is very wonderful. The web, that looks so
smooth to the naked eye, is made up of a great many
small shafts, called barbs, that grow out of the main
shaft in rows. Every one of these small side-shafts has
its own rows of still smaller shafts ; and these again
have little fringes along their edges, quite curly or like
tiny hooks, that catch hold of the next row and hold
fast. So the whole feather keeps its shape, though it
seems so frail and delicate."

" Are all feathers like this one ? " asked Rap.

" All are equally wonderful, and equally beautiful in
construction ; but there is a good deal of difference in
the way the webs hold together. Almost all feathers
that come to the surface are smooth and firm, and there
is not much difference except in size, or shape, or color.
For example, the largest wing-feather or tail-feather of
this Sparrow is quite like the one I pulled out of its
back in texture, only the back-feather is smaller and
not so stiff. But near the roots of these feathers you
notice a fluffy part, where the webs do not hold to-
gether firmly. Some feathers are as fluffy as that in
their whole length. Such are called down-feathers,
because they are so downy. Birds that run about as
soon as they are hatched are always clothed in down,
like little chickens, before their other feathers sprout ;
and some birds, like Ducks, wear a warm underclothing
of down their whole lives. Then again some feathers

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 15

do not have any webs at all — only a slender shaft, as
fine as a hair."

" Do feathers keep on growing all the time, like my
hair?" asked Dodo.

44 No, my dear. They stop growing as soon as they
are of the right size ; and you will find your hair will
do the same, when it is long enough — though that
won't be for a good many years yet, little girl. When
the blood that has fed the growing feather is all dried
up, the feather ceases to grow. Then after a while
longer, when it has become ragged and worn, it gets
loose in the skin and drops out — as I am sorry to say
some of my hair is doing already. That is what we
call moulting."

44 1 know about that," interrupted Nat. 44 It's when
hens shed their feathers. But I didn't know that it
was moulting when people grow bald."

44 It is very much the same thing," said the Doctor,
44 only we don't call it moulting when people lose their
hair. But there is this difference. Birds wear out
their feathers much faster than we do our hair, and
need a new suit at least once a year, sometimes oftener.
All young birds get their first new clothes when the
down is worn out. Old birds generally moult as soon
as they have reared their broods, which in this country
is late in summer or early in the fall. Many also moult
again the following spring, when they put on their wed-
ding dress ; and one of the curious things about this
change of plumage is, that the new feathers often come
out quite unlike those that were cast off. So a bird
may differ much in appearance at different seasons and
ages — in fact, most birds do. The male also differs

16 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

in many cases from the female, being more handsomely
dressed than his mate."

" I don't think that's fair," said Dodo. " I shouldn't
like Nat to have nicer clothes than I wear."

"But it is best for Bird People," replied the Doctor,
" that the mother bird, who has to keep house and tend
to the little ones, should not be too conspicuous. She
is best protected from enemies when her colors are
plain, and especially when they match the foliage in
which she sits on her nest. If her mate has only him-
self to look out for, it does not so much matter how
bright his plumage may be. The colors of some birds
are so exactly like their surroundings, that you might
look long before you could find the sober, quiet female,
whose mate is flashing his gay plumage and singing his
finest song, perhaps for the very purpose of attracting
your attention away from his home. 4 Protective colora-
tion/ is what the Wise Men call it."

" What makes all the different colors of birds, Doc-
tor?" asked Rap.

" That is a hard question to answer. It is natural
for birds to have particular colors, just as some people
have black eyes and hair, while others have blue eyes
and yellow hair. But I can tell you one thing about
that. Look at this Sparrow. All the colors it shows
are in the feathers, whose various markings are due to
certain substances called 'pigments,' which filter into
the feathers, and there set in various patterns. The
feathers are painted inside by Nature, and the colors
show through. You see none of these colors are shiny
like polished metal. But I could show you some birds
whose plumage glitters with all the hues of the rain-

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 17

bow. That glittering is called 'iridescence.' It does
not depend upon any pigment in the substance of the
feathers, but upon the way the light strikes them. It
is the same with the beautiful tints we see on a soap-
bubble. The film of water itself is colorless, but it
becomes iridescent. You might divide all the colors
of birds into two classes — those that depend upon pig-
ments in the feathers, and those that depend upon the
play of light on the feathers."

" That's pretty hard to remember," said Nat ; " but I
know how a soap-bubble looks, though I never saw any
birds look that way. Please show us one."

"I will show you two," answered the Doctor, who
then went to his glass case, and took out a Wild Pigeon
and a Hummingbird. " Look at the shining tints on
the neck of this Pigeon, and see how the throat of this
Hummingbird glitters when I turn it to the light."

" That's the prettiest color I ever saw," said Nat,
" and I can remember about it now. But," he added,
thinking of the way he had seen hens mope when they
were moulting, " does it hurt birds to lose their feath-
ers, uncle ? "

" It is probably not as comfortable as being nicely
dressed, and sometimes they seem quite miserable, espe-
cially if they shed old feathers faster than new ones
can grow to replace the lost ones. Some birds, like
Ducks, lose their wing-feathers all at once, and cannot
fly for quite a while. But Heart of Nature is kind to
his children, as a rule. Most birds shed their rowing
feathers one at a time in each wing, so that they never
lose their power of flight. Now this will do for wings,
tails, and feathers. Come ! what is the next thing

18 STORIES OF BIEDS AND BEASTS

you notice about this Sparrow ? Is it entirely covered
with feathers?"

" Of course it isn't," said Dodo ; " it hasn't any feath-
ers on its beak or on its feet, else how could it eat and
hop about?"

" That is right. These parts of a Sparrow are bare ;
they never have any feathers ; and the skin on them is
hard and horny, as different from soft thin skin as
finger-nails. Now look at the beak, and think how
many things a Sparrow has to do with it. He has no
hands or paws, and so he must pick up everything
he eats with his beak. He has no teeth, and so he
must bite his food with his beak. He feeds on seeds
like a Canary bird ; so his beak comes to a sharp point,
because seeds are small things to pick up ; and it is
very strong and horny, because seeds are hard to crack,
to get at the kernel. Notice, too, children, that his
beak is in two halves, an upper half and a lower half ;
when these halves are held apart his mouth is open, so
that you can see the tongue inside ; and when the two
halves are closed together the mouth is shut. These
halves are called the upper mandible and the lower
mandible.'''

" Why, it's just like people's mouths," said Nat, " only
people have lips and teeth."

" Certainly it is like our mouths. Birds are built
like ourselves in a great many things, and live as we
do in a great many ways. Bird People and House Peo-
ple are animals, and all animals must eat to live. A
bird's beak is its mouth, and the under mandible moves
up and down, like our chins when we eat or talk.
Birds can talk as well as sing with their beaks. This

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 19

Sparrow can say ' Peabody,' and some kinds of Parrots
can repeat whole sentences so as to be understood.
That is another thing in which birds' beaks are like
our mouths. Now look again — can you see anything
else about the Sparrow's beak? "

44 1 see a pair of little holes at the root of the upper
mandible," said Rap.

" Well, those are the nostrils ! " said the Doctor.
" Birds must breathe, like ourselves, and when the beak
is shut they breathe through the nostrils."

" So do I," said Dodo ; and then she pursed up her
pretty red lips tightly, breathing quite hard through
her nose. " I do think," she said, when she had finished
this performance, " birds have faces, with all the things
in them that we have — there are the eyes, too, on each
side, like people's eyes, only they look sideways and
not in front. But I don't see their ears. Have birds
any ears, Uncle Roy?"

"I can show you this Sparrow's ears. See here,"
said the Doctor, who had run the point of his penknife
under a little package of feathers on one side of the
back of the Sparrow's head, and lifted them up; " what
does that look like?"

" It's a hole in the skin that runs into the head," said
Nat. " Can birds hear through that ? "

" Of course they can. Ears of all animals are made
to hear with. This Sparrow can hear quite as well as
you can, Nat. Now think, children, how many things
we have found about this Sparrow's head that are quite
like our own, — ears, eyes, nose, mouth, and tongue, —
only there are no lips or teeth, because the horny beak,
with its hard edges and sharp point, answers both for

20 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

lips and teeth. I want you to learn from this how
many things are really alike in Bird People and House
People, though they look so different at first sight.
When we come to the bird stories, you will find that
birds differ very much among themselves in all these
things. I will show you all sorts of beaks, of different
sizes and shapes. Here are pictures of several kinds of
beaks — see how much they differ in shape ! But they
are all beaks, and all beaks are mouths. They all
answer the same purposes in birds' lives, and the pur-
poses are the same as those of our mouths. But now,
what do you notice about this Sparrow's feet? "

" They are not a bit like my feet," said Dodo ; " they
are so long and slim and hard, and the toes stick out
so all around. I think mine are nicer."

"But they would not be so useful as this Sparrow's if
you had to live in a bush and hop about on the twigs,"
said the Doctor. u The bird's feet are fixed as nicely
for that, as yours are for walking on the ground. I
can show you, too, little girl, that a Sparrow's feet
are a great deal more like yours than you think.
Come, Rap ! Tell me what you see about this bird's
feet."

" Why, they are the ends of its legs, and there is a
long slim part beyond the feathers, hard and horny
like the beak, and at the end of this are four toes,
three in front and one behind, and they've all sharp
claws on their ends."

" Very well said, my boy ! Now I will show you
that such feet as the Sparrow has are as much like
Dodo's as a Sparrow's beak is like her mouth. Begin
witV the claws — "

1. Insect-eating bill of Robin; 2. Seed-crushing bill of a Sparrow;
3. Snapping- bill of Whippoorwill ; 4. Needle bill of Hummingbird ; 5. Chis-
elling bill of Woodpecker; f>. Climbing bill of Paroquet; 7. Tearing bill of
Falcon; 8. Grooved drinking bill of Dove; 9. Gleaning bill of Ruffed
Grouse; 10. Wedge bill of Plover; 11. Straight probing bill of Snipe.

21

/6 '

12. Curved probing bill of Curlew ; 13. Spearing bill of Green Heron ;
14. Strainer bill of Duck ; 15. Hooked bill of Gull ; 16. Ornamental bill
of male Puffin in breeding season.

22

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 23

•' I know ! " exclaimed Dodo, " toe-nails ! Only I
think they need cutting ! "

"Of course they are toe-nails," said the Doctor.
" Don't nails grow on the ends of toes ? All kinds of
claws, on the ends of birds' and other animals' toes,
are the same as nails. Some are long, sharp, and
curved, like a cat's or a Sparrow's, and some are flat
and blunt, like ours. I could show you some birds
with claws that look just like our finger-nails. Toes,
too, are pretty much the same ; only this Sparrow, like
most other birds, has but four, with three of them in a
line in front, and the other one pointing backward.
That is what makes its foot as good as a hand to hold
on with when it perches on slender twigs. Almost all
birds have their toes fixed that way. Some, that do
not perch, have no hind toe; and birds that swim have
broad webs stretched between their front toes, like
Ducks. All the different kinds of feet birds have are
fitted for the ways they move about on the ground, or
water, or among the branches of trees and bushes, just
as all their shapes of beaks are fitted for the kind of
food they eat and the way they pick it up. Here are
two pictures that will show you several different kinds
of feet. Now you must answer the next question,
Nat ; what do toes grow on ? "

" Feet ! " said Nat promptly, then adding : " But
this Sparrow hasn't any feet except its toes; they
grow on its legs, because the rest of the horny part
stands up — I've noticed that in Canaries."

"But all this horny part is the foot, not the leg,"
answered the Doctor, " though it does stand up, as you
say. How could toes grow from legs without any feet

1. Ordinary foot of perching birds; 2. Foot of Nighthawk, with a comb
on claw of middle toe; 3. Climbing foot of Woodpecker, with two hind
toes; 4. Grasping foot of Osprey, for holding prey.

24

5. Scratching foot of Ruffed Grouse ; 6. Wading foot of Golden Plover,
with only three toes; 7. Wading foot of Snipe, with short hind toe;
s. \Va<ling foot of Green Heron, with long hind toe; 1). Swimming foot of
Coot, with loht'il toes; 10. Swimming foot of Canada Goose, with three
toes webbed ; 11. Swimming foot of Cormorant, with all four toes webbed.

25

26 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

between ? They never do ! There has to be a foot in
every animal between the toes and the legs. Now
what do you call the end of your foot which is opposite
the end on which the toes grow ? "

" It's the heel in people, but I should think the hind
toe of a bird was its heel," said Nat doubtfully, and
beginning to think he did not understand.

" You might think so," said the Doctor ; " but you
would be wrong. All this horny part that a bird
stands up on is its foot. And the top of it, nearest to
the feathers, is the heel. Don't you see, when I bend
the foot so," continued the Doctor, as he bent the Spar-
row's foot forward, " that the top of the horny part
makes a joint that stands out backward, in the same
position your heel always has ? All this slender horny
part of the foot, above the roots of the toes, corresponds
to the instep of your foot, and of course the heel comes
next. You must remember the name of it — the Wise
Men call it the tarsus."

" Then hasn't a bird got any legs, Uncle Roy, only
just feet ? " asked Dodo.

" Oh ! yes ; legs too, with a knee-joint and a hip-
joint, like ours. But all these parts are up closer to
the body, and hidden by the feathers, so that you can-
not see them."

As the Doctor said this there was a great com-
motion. Quick, who had been watching the mouse
hole all the while, gave a sharp bark and pounced on
something. There was a feeble squeak, and it was all
over with a mouse which had ventured too far from its
hole.

" Poor little mousey I " said the Doctor, as he took

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD 27

the limp body from the terrier's mouth. " It is quite
dead. I am sorry, but it might have nibbled some of
my birds. Besides, this is exactly what I wanted to
teach you something about. Who can tell me the
difference between a mouse and a Sparrow ? "

" I can ! " said Dodo ; " it's all difference ; a mouse
hasn't any feathers, or any wings, and it has four feet,
and a long tail and whiskers and teeth — "

" That will do, little girl, for differences ; do you
see anything alike between a Sparrow and a mouse,
Rap?"

"I think the fur is something like feathers, Doctor,"
answered Rap ; " and you told us how a beak was like
a mouth without any teeth or lips; then a mouse has
four feet and legs ; but a bird has only two feet,
and two wings instead of four legs and feet like a
mouse."

"That is just what I want you all to think about,"
said the Doctor. " Now listen. If a Sparrow has
a pair of feet that correspond to a mouse's hind feet,
what do you think a Sparrow's wings correspond to in
a mouse ? "

" I should think they would be something like a
mouse's fore feet," answered Rap, after thinking a
moment.

" That is exactly right. Birds and beasts are alike
in many respects. They have heads, necks, and bodies ;
they have tails ; and they have limbs. Beasts have two
pairs of limbs. We call them fore legs and hind legs.
People have two pairs also. We call them arms and
legs. So you see our arms correspond to the fore
legs of beasts, though we never use them for moving

28 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

about, except when we go on our hands and knees, or
climb trees, or swim in the water. And as for birds —
why, their fore limbs are turned into wings, to fly
with, so that they walk or hop on their hind limbs
only, just as we do. Animals that go on all fours are
called quadrupeds. Animals that go on their two hind
limbs only, like Bird People and House People, are
called bipeds. A Sparrow's wings are just as much
like a mouse's fore legs, as a Sparrow's feathers are like
a mouse's fur."

" How funny ! " said Dodo. " But how are a bird's
wings like fore legs, when they haven't got any paws
or toes — or fingers — or claws — only just long feath-
ers ? "

"They have fingers, and some birds' wings have
claws ; only you cannot see them, because they are all
wrapped up in the skin and covered over with the
feathers. Some day — not to-day, because you have
had a long lesson already — I will show you a bird's
wing with only its bones. Then you will see that it
has finger-bones at the end, then hand-bones next, then
bones that run from the wrist to the elbow, and then
one bone that runs from the elbow to the shoulder — >
almost the same bones that people have in their fingers,
hands, wrists, and arms. So you see wings are the
same to a bird that fore legs are to a mouse or arms
are to us.

" I could go through all the inside parts of birds,
and show you something like the same parts in people,
— stomach and bowels, to take care of the food they
eat and turn it into blood to nourish them ; lungs to
breathe with, and keep the blood pure ; heart to beat

THE BUILDING OF A BIRD

29

and thus pump the warm blood into all parts of the
body ; brain and nerves, which are what birds think
and feel with, just as we do with ours; and all their
bones, which together make what we call the skeleton,
or framework of the body, to keep the flesh in shape
and support the other organs."

"Dear me ! " sighed Dodo; "there must be ever so
many more things inside of birds that we can't see,
than there are outside."

" Of course there are ! " said the Doctor. " It won't
be very hard for you to remember the outside parts,
and learn the names of them all. I have told you most
of them that you need to remember, to understand the
stories I am going to tell you about birds. See here I
What do you think of this ? "

Ill

THE BIRD'S NEST

" I WONDER why some birds build their nests so very
early, when it is cold, and there are no leaves on the
trees, while others wait until it is almost summer,"
said Rap, as they walked down a narrow lane toward
the river. There were bushes lining the path on each
side, and from the singing you would think that every
bush had a bird on each twig. In fact, there were so
many birds in sight that Nat did not know which to
ask about first, and so kept looking instead of talking.

" The birds who are Citizens are usually the first to
build," answered the Doctor. " They merely roved
about during the winter months, and had no long
journey to make before they reached the home trees
again, and then the hardy seed-eating birds can return
from the South much earlier than their frailer kin."

" Last year," said Rap, " when the men were chop-
ping trees in the great wood beyond the lake, the
miller went up one day to hunt coons and took me
with him. It was the beginning of March and terribly
cold ; there were long icicles hanging on the trees,
and we were glad enough to go in b}^ the fire in
the lumbermen's camp. But what do you think? — if
there wasn't an Owl's nest, up in a pine tree, with two
eggs in it ! It was in a very lonely place, and the

30

THE BIRD'S NEST 31

miller said the Owl had borrowed an old Crow s nest
and fixed it up a little."

" I should think the eggs would have frozen hard
and been spoiled," said Nat.

" No, the old Owl sat on them ever so tight and
would hardly budge to let the miller see them. We
didn't stay long, for the Owl was a savage big thing,
nearly two feet high, with yellow eyes and long
feathers sticking up on its head like horns."

"A Great Horned Owl," said the Doctor. "I only
wonder that it let the miller go near it at all ; they
are generally very wild and fierce."

" This one was sort of friends with the lumbermen,"
continued Rap, " for they used to hang lumps of raw
meat on the bushes for it, and they said it kept the
rats and mice away from the camp and was good com-
pany for them. It frightened me when I heard it
first ; it gave an awful scream, like a hurt person.
After a while another one began to bark like a dog
with a cold, just like this — 4 who-o-o-o — hoo — hoo —
hoo.' And, Doctor, one of the lumbermen told me
that with Owls and Hawks the female is mostly bigger
than the male. Do you think that is so ? Because
with singing birds the male is the largest."

"Among cannibal birds the female is usually the
largest," answered the Doctor, who was pleased to see
that Rap so often had a " because " for his questions.
" These birds do a great deal of fighting, both in catch-
ing their living prey and holding their own against ene-
mies ; and as the female stays most at home, being the
chief protector of the nest, she needs more strength."

" Some singing birds are real plucky too," said Rap.

32 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

44 That same year I found a Robin's nest in April, when
the water-pail by the well froze every night, and a
Woodcock's nest in the brushwood. It's hard to see a
Woodcock on the nest, they look so like dead leaves.
It snowed a little that afternoon, and the poor bird's
back was all white, but there she sat. It made me
feel so sorry, and I was so afraid she might freeze, that
I made a little roof over her of hemlock branches. And
she liked that and didn't move at all ; so then I wiped
the snow off her back, and she seemed real comfortable.
I used to go back every day after that to see her ; we
grew to be quite friends before the four eggs hatched,
and I've seen them do queer little tricks ; but I never
told anybody where she lived, though, because lots of
people don't seem to understand anything about birds
but shooting or teasing them."

" Some day you shall tell us about what the Wood-
cock did, my lad. You must tell us a great many
stories, for you know what you have seen yourself.
That is the best knowledge of all, and it will encourage
Nat to hear you," and Dr. Hunter put his arm affec-
tionately around the shoulders of each boy.

" Hush ! Wait a moment and listen to that Thrasher,"
said the Doctor, stopping behind some thick bushes ;
" he is wooing his mate ! "

" What is wooing ? " whispered Nat.

44 Asking her to marry him and come and build a
cosy home in one of these nice bushes. Listen ! See !
There he is, up on the very top of that young birch,
with his head thrown back, singing as if his throat
would split." As the children looked up they saw a
fine bird with a curved beak, rusty-brown back, and

THE BIRD'S NEST 33

light breast streaked with black, who was clinging to a
slender spray, jerking his long tail while he sang.

" It seems as if I could almost hear the words he
says," said Rap.

" Birds sing in many different tones," said the Doc-
tor. " The Thrasher's song is like some one talking
cheerfully; the Meadowlark's is flute-like; the Oriole's
is more like clarion notes ; the Bobolink bubbles over
like a babbling brook ; while the dear little brown
striped Song Sparrow, who is with us in hedge and
garden all the year, sings pleasant home-like ballads."

" There are some birds that Olive told me can't sing
a bit," said Nat, " but only call and squeak. How do
they ask their mates to marry them ? "

UA11 birds have alarm cries, and a call-note that
serves the same purpose as a song, although it may not
seem at all musical to us. We are naturally more in-
terested in that order of birds whose voices are the
most perfectly developed. These not only sing when
they are courting, but all the time their mates are sit-
ting upon the eggs, and until the young are ready to

fly."

" Why do birds always build nests in spring ? " asked
Nat.

" I think because there is more for them to feed the
little ones with, than when it gets to be hot and dry,"
said Rap, "and it gives them time to grow big and
strong before winter comes, when they must go away."

" Quite right, Rap, and it also gives the parents a
chance to shed the old feathers that have been worn by
rubbing on the nest, grow a new, thick, warm coat for
winter, and rest themselves before they set out on their

34 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

autumn journey. Do you remember what I told you
that rainy day in my study about this moulting or
changing of feathers ? "

" Yes, I do," said Rap and Nat together. " Most
birds have two coats a year, and the male's is the
brighter," continued Nat eagerly, proud to show that
he remembered. " The one that comes out in the
spring is the gayest, so that his mate shall admire
him and when this coat comes he sings his very best
and — "

" Stop and take breath, my boy," laughed the Doctor;
" there is plenty of time. Why do we think that the
male has the gayest feathers — do you remember that
also?"

" No, I've forgotten," said Nat.

" I remember," cried Rap ; " it is to please the female
and because she sits so much on the nest that if her
feathers were as bright as the male's her enemies would
see her quicker, and when the little birds hatch out
they are mostly in plain colors too, like their mother."

" Oh, I remember that now," said Nat. " And after
the young are hatched and the old birds need new coats,
they keep rather still while they shed their feathers,
because they feel weak and can't fly well."

" Then when the new feathers come they are some-
times quite different from the old ones, and seldom
quite so bright — why is this, Nat ? " asked the Doc-
tor. But Nat could not think, and Rap answered:
" Because in the autumn when they make the long
journeys the leaves are falling from the trees, and if
they were very bright the cannibal birds would see
them too quickly."

THE BIRD'S NEST 35

" Have I told you about the Bluebird, and how,
though he only sheds his feathers once a year, yet his
winter coat is rusty and not bright clear blue as it is in
spring ? "

"I think not," answered Nat.

" Well, the outside edges of its feathers are blue, but
a little deeper in the feather is brownish. So when
they have worn the same feathers many months, and
rubbed in and out of their little houses and bathed a
great deal and cleaned their feathers off every day in
the dust, as birds always do, the blue ends wear off and
the rusty parts show. It is quite worth while to tell
little people things when they have the patience to
listen and the interest to remember."

" Yes, uncle, but it's the way you tell us about birds
that makes us remember. You talk as if they were
real people."

" Oh, oh, Nat ! " laughed the Doctor, " if you flatter
me so I shall have to hide my head in a bush like an
Ostrich. Birds are people, though of another race
from ours, and I am happy if I can make you think so.
Ah ! we must be near a Redwing's nest — what a com-
motion the colony is making! "

" Colony ? I thought a colony was a lot of people
who went off into a strange wild land and made a new
home," said Nat.

" That is one meaning of the word, but another one
is when a number of people of the same race or trade
live close to each other. A bird colony is a collection
of the homes of many birds of the same family. After
the nesting season almost all birds live in flocks of
different sizes, each particular kind flocking by itself ;

36 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

but during the migrations great flocks are often made
up of smaller flocks of various kinds of birds. During
the nesting season it is quite different ; the majority
of birds prefer a quiet home life, each pair being inde-
pendent of any others. Certain flocks, however, keep
together, and all build their nests in a particular swamp
or wood, and sometimes, it is said, male birds build nests
to sleep in while the females are sitting. The Red-
wings nest in colonies ; so do the Herons, who eat frogs
and nest near water, and the little brown-cloaked Bank
Swallows, who live in holes that they dig for themselves
in high banks."

There were some twenty pairs of birds in this Red-
wing colony, who seemed to be much frightened by the
approach of visitors.

"Here is a nest in this alder bush," said the Doctor;
" step carefully on the grass hummocks, and look at it
for a moment, Nat. See how neatly it is made of the
dried leaves of flags and grasses, woven in and out
between three upright stalks."

" Isn't it pretty ? " said Nat ; " so even and deep like
a cup, and not at all ragged and mussy like a Robin's
nest. There are a great many different kinds of nests,
aren't there, uncle ? "

" Yes, the nests of birds are almost as different as
their songs and other habits, and the higher the order
the brood belongs to the better built is the nest. The
lower orders often only make a hollow in the ground
or grass, but do not collect material and build in the
true sense. None such can be called architects."

" What is an architect ? " asked Nat, who thought it
was a pretty big name for any sort of a bird.

THE BIRD'S NEST 37

" An architect, my boy," said the Doctor, " is anybody
who knows how to build anything as it ought to be
built, to look the best and be the most useful, whether
it is a house or a nest."

" I wonder why nests are so different," said Rap, look-
ing down the lane toward the river where the sun was
streaming in and so many little birds were flying tc>
and fro that they seemed like last year's leaves being
blown about.

" Because, as the habits of the birds cause them to
live in different places, and feed in various ways, so
their homes must be suitable to their surroundings,
and be built in the best way to protect the young birds
from harm — to keep them safe from House People,
cannibal birds, and bad weather.

" The trim Thrushes and Sparrows, who are all
brownish birds, and find their insect or seed food on
or near the ground, build open nests low down in trees
and bushes, or on the earth itself ; but the gorgeous
Baltimore Oriole, with his flaming feathers, makes a
long pocket-shaped nest of string and strong plant
fibres, which he swings high up in an elm tree, where
it cannot be reached from below, and the leaves hide
this cradle while the winds rock it. He knows that it
would never do to trust his brilliant feathers down by
the ground.

"The frail Hummingbird has no real strength to
fight enemies bigger than its tiny self, but it has been
given for protection the power of flying as quick as
a whizzing bullet, and courage enough to attack even a
Kingbird in defence of its nest, which is a tiny circle
of down, covered with lichens, and is so fastened across

38 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

a branch that it looks like a knot of the limb itself.
The Woodcock you saw that snowy day, Rap, knows
the protection of color and draws together for a nest
a- few leaves of the hue of her own feathers. This
nest and the bird upon it are so blended together that
few eyes could separate them."

" Some birds do not make any nests, but live in holes
like squirrels and coons," said Rap. " Woodpeckers and
all those."

"There again the home is suited to the occupation
of the bird," said the Doctor; "for Woodpeckers are
Tree Trappers, who find their food by creeping about
trees and picking insects and grubs from the bark.
What more natural than that they should have a house
close at hand in some tree whose wood is soft enough
to be hollowed out ? You see they have a bill like a
chisel for gouging out insects, and with this same tool
they make their homes."

" Bluebirds and Wrens and Martins like to live in
holes and boxes, though they can't make holes for
themselves," said Rap.

" Yes, the habits of many birds have changed since
the country has become civilized and House People are
to be found in all parts of it. Many birds, who have
always been favorites with man, and have been pro-
tected by him, have gradually grown less wild, or almost
tame, and now prefer living near houses and barns to
building in wilder places. The Bluebird, Martin, and
Wren are three very popular birds. They appreciate
cosy homes and are grateful for the boxes built for
them, though we know that before they had such
things they must have nested in tree holes."

THE BIRD'S NEST 39

" I wonder where the Chimney Swifts lived before
there were any chimneys," said Rap, looking across the
fields to where an old stone chimney stood — the only
thing left standing of an old farmhouse. Above this
chimney, Swifts were circling in shifting curves, now
diving inside it, now disappearing afar in the air.

" We think they must have lived in hollow trees as
the Tree Swallows do now," said the Doctor ; " but
when House People began to clear the land they natu-
rally cut down the dead trees first, and so the birds
moved to the chimneys."

" I used to call those birds Chimney ' Swallows,' but
Olive says they are made more like Hummingbirds and
Nighthawks than real Swallows," continued Rap.

" Nighthawks ? " said Nat. "I thought Olive said
Hawks were cannibal birds. How are they relations
of Swallows ? "

" That is a mistake a great many people make," said
the Doctor ; " for the Nighthawk is not a real Hawk,
but a shy bird, who has a rapid hawk-like flight,
though it eats nothing but beetles, moths, and other
insects. Hark ! Do you hear that cry high in the
air ? "

" As if something was saying c shirk-shirk ' ? " said
Nat.

" Yes ; that is a Nighthawk on its way home. Look !
he is over us now, and you can see two large white
spots like holes in his wings. By these you can tell it
from any of the real Hawks."

" Does he build high up in a tree ? " asked Rap. " I
have never found his nest."

" There is a good reason for that," said the Doctor.

40 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

"There is no nest. Two eggs are laid on the bare
ground, that is about the same color as the bird itself ;
and the eggs look too much like streaky pebbles to be
easily seen. When the young are hatched they keep
still until they are able to fly, and are colored so exactly
like the place upon which they rest that it is almost
impossible to see them, even if you know where they
are."

" How much there is to learn!" sighed Nat. "I'm
afraid you will have to make us a big book instead of
a little one, Uncle Roy, to teach us all these things.
Olive and Rap have such a start of us. Dodo and I
don't know much of anything, and even what I thought
I knew about birds isn't very true."

IV

CANNIBALS IN COURT

DODO'S birthday and a disappointment came together
on the eighth, and the disappointment took the shape
of a rainy day. Not an early morning shower, with
promise of warmth and clear weather ; for it was one
of the cold, northeasterly storms that are very trying
at any time of the year, but doubly so when they
come in July, and seem, for the time, to turn summer
into autumn.

Dodo, Nat, Rap, and Olive stood under the shelter
of the porch, the children vainly hoping that it might
clear up before nine o'clock — the hour the train left
— and Olive racking her brain for something that
would soothe their feelings. " We might ask mammy
to let us go into the kitchen and make candy," she
said. " The weather is too damp and sticky for mo-
lasses candy, but butter-scotch will harden if we put
it in the dairy." Even this did not seem to be very
tempting to little people who had expected to go to
the real Owl woods, and Quick barked and yelped as
if he, too, felt cheated out of an expected excursion.

Presently the Doctor came out and saw the forlorn
group, which, being quite heedless of the sharp slant
of the rain, was rather wet and limp.

44 Poor little bird-hunters ! " he said — rather too

41

42 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

cheerfully, they thought — " you look as unhappy as
the party of astronomers who went all the way to
Africa to photograph an eclipse of the sun, and when
the time came were so excited that they forgot to open
the camera, and so took no pictures. Come into the
hall and I will tell you about a plan I have. Catching
cold isn't a nice game for a birthday party.

"You expected to hear something about the canni-
bal birds to-day, and see the woods where a great
many of them live and make their nests, didn't you?"

" Yes," said Dodo ; " we wanted to know why they
are cannibals, and see where the wicked things live
that eat little Chickens and song birds."

"Very well. Now do you know that though all
Hawks and Owls sometimes eat other birds and help
themselves to poultry from the barnyards, yet at the
same time most of them are the farmer's best friends ? "

" No," said Rap ; " I thought they were all bad,
evil birds, and that the Government often gave money
to people for killing them ; besides, I am sure that
a Hawk took eleven of our little Chickens this very
spring ! "

"The Wise Men have been looking up the records
of these cannibals — or Birds of Prey, as they are
usually called — and find that very few of them —
only two or three kinds, perhaps — should be con-
demned to death. The others belong to the secret
guild of the Wise Watchers who, sitting silently in
the shadows of the woods, or perching in the trees
around the edges of fields, wait for rats, mice, moles,
rabbits, gophers, beetles, cutworms, and many other
creatures which destroy vegetable life. The Wise

CANNIBALS IN COURT 43

Watchers kill these hurtful creatures, and so become
the guardians of the fields."

" Oh, do tell us which ones do this and which took
Rap's Chickens," said Dodo, forgetting her disappoint-
ment for the time.

" I am going to make a play for you. Some of the
Owls and Hawks shall speak for themselves, and tell
you about their own habits and customs. In fact, the
most familiar of these cannibals shall have a hearing
this morning in the wonder room. The American
Eagle is to be the judge, and I think that, as you
cannot go to the woods, you will like to come into
my room to hear what they have to say."

"Birds talking about themselves in the wonder
room ! " said Dodo in a puzzled way.

" What is a hearing ? " asked Nat.

" I know what a hearing is," said Rap. " It is
where people are accused of doing something wrong
and they go down to the courthouse, and the judge
hears what they have to say about it; and, if he
thinks they have done the things, he binds them over
for trial. They often have hearings down in the
town hall in the East Village."

" You are quite right, my boy ; and at this hearing
of ours, as the birds are stuffed and cannot speak, I
shall speak for them. Even if they could talk, we
could not understand them, unless we borrowed
Tommy-Anne's magic spectacles. Now, if you will
come into the study, you will find them all ready."

The children did not wait to be asked twice ; Nat
and Dodo rushed along the hall, followed by Rap.

In the study two tables were put together, making

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

a sort of platform at the end of the room. On this
platform a dozen stuffed birds sat in solemn silence.
The Owls were on one side, with a row of Hawks
facing them on the other. A big Golden Eagle was
at the foot, and a White-headed American Eagle held
the place of honor at the head,
on a pile of books. Each
bird was mounted on a
wooden perch ; and,
as they were all set
up in very natu-
ral positions,
the effect was
quite start-
ling to the
children.

GOLDEN EAGLE.

" Where did all these big birds come from ? " asked
Nat. "They were not in the glass cases."

" No, they were in the attic. You must excuse
them if their feathers look a little shabby, for it is a

CANNIBALS IN COURT 45

long time since they flew about in the woods, and
took a bath or plumed themselves."

" The judge ought to wear spectacles ! May I cut
him a pair out of paper ? " asked Dodo. " See how wise
he looks," she said, as she put the make-believe glasses
on the Eagle's nose.

" Order ! " called the Doctor, rapping on the table
with his knuckles. "The American Eagle -makes the
first speech, which I will translate to you."

The Eagle looked very fierce as he sat there. His
head, neck, and tail were white, but the rest of his
body was dark brown. The upper part of his great
yellow beak was hooked ; his yellow feet were bare
and scaly; and his four sharp claws, or talons as they
are often called, were black. He was nearly three feet
tall, and if he had spread his powerful wings he would
have measured seven feet from tip to tip.

The Golden Eagle, who sat at the foot of the table,
was about the same size and an equally handsome bird.
He held his golden-brown head proudly erect, and his
black wings folded tightly. He too had some white
feathers in the tail, though none on the head ; his hooked
beak was black, and he wore dark leggings almost
down to his powerful claws.

These two Eagles, though not exactly friends, are not
enemies; for the Bald-headed one ranges over all of North
America, especially in open places near the water, while
his Golden brother keeps more to the western parts,
and loves the loneliness of cold northern mountains.

" We Birds of Prey," said the Eagle, " who bow to no
one and even sleep sitting erect — we, whose females
are larger than the males for the better protection of

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

our nests, are accused of eating not only our smaller
brethren, but also four-footed animals which are of
service to man. I deny that we do this as a tribe,
except when we are pressed for food, and Heart of
Nature says to us all, ' Take what ye need to eat! '

" Now, you are all in honor
bound to speak the truth at
this hearing, and you shall
be heard first, Brothers of the
Darkness — you, with strange
voices and feathered eye-cir-
cles — you, who have three
eyelids and whose eggs are
whiter even than moonlight.

" Brother Screech Owl,
whose day is my night, tell
us about yourself — how
and where you live."

There were two Screech
Owls perched side by side on
one stump. They were not
ten inches long, and had
feathery ear - tufts standing
up like horns an inch long.
One Owl w^as mottled gray
and black ; the other was
rusty-red; and the toes of both peeped out of holes in
their thin stockings. The gray one gave a little quaver-
,ing wail and said:

" I am everywhere a well-known Owl ; though I say
it myself, I am a good, hard-working Citizen, and in
this the Wise Men agree.

SCREECH OWL.

CANNIBALS IN COURT 41

" All day I stay by my nest hole in some old tree ;
but when others go to sleep I awake, and steal noise-
lessly on my rounds through barn, field, and garden.
What for ? For mice, moles, bats, and beetles. Some-
times I go a-fishing; sometimes I snatch a frog with
my sharp claws — the hunting weapons of my family.
Do I catch birds? Sometimes, but they are few com-
pared to the mice I kill. When I think of mice, I
become a feathered cat! Do mice run fast? I fly
faster ! Winter or summer I always hear when a
mouse squeaks or a chipmunk chatters. When I swal-
low bones, fur, and feathers, they never give me any
pain — no, never! I understand the science of diges-
tion. Instead of making my poor little stomach grind
up all the things I swallow, I just roll what I do not
care to digest into little pellets, and spit them up. If
you look on the ground under my home tree, you will
find these little balls, and by them judge of what I eat.

" My family are also distinguished by two other odd
habits. Having two sets of eyelids, an inner and an
outer, we can close one or both at will. The inner one
is a thin skin that we blink with, and draw across our
eyes in the day-time when the light annoys us, just as
House People pull down a curtain to shut out the sun.
The outer lids we close only in sleep, when we put up
the shutters after a night's work, and at last in death —
for birds alone among all animals are able to close their
own eyes when they die. The other habit is the trick
of turning our heads entirely round from front to back,
without wringing our necks or choking to death. This
we do to enable us to see in every direction, as we can-
not roll our eyes about as freely as most birds do.

48 STORIES OF BIItDS AND BEASTS

" Come to think of it, I am very fond of eating one
bird that, so the Wise Men say, is as bad as a mouse for
mischief. I eat English Sparrows !

" One thing I wish the Wise Men would tell me. Why
am I, without season or reason, sometimes rusty-red
and sometimes mottled gray ? It confuses my brain so
that I hardly know my own face in the pond."

" Acquitted ! " said Judge Eagle. " Long-eared Owl,
what have you to say ? "

The Long-eared Owl was about fifteen inches high.
He had, as his name implied, long ear-tufts that stood
up very straight over his yellow eyes, and thick tawny
stockings on his feet and legs. He was finely mottled
above with brown, black, and dark orange, had long
brown streaks on his buff breast, and dark-brown bands
on his wings and tail. He gave a hoot and spoke very
quickly.

" I'm a good Citizen, too. I do not eat many birds,
and those I do eat are not the useful ones who kill
insects ; moles, mice, rats, and beetles are my daily
food. But House People do not know this, and hunt
me until I am almost discouraged ; for though I am
a Night Owl I do not live in such wild places as some
of my brethren, and so I am more easily caught. I live
and nest anywhere I like, from the Atlantic to the
Pacific. I rear my young equally well in an old
Crow's nest in a high tree, or one I build for myself
in a bush. I mean well and am a Wise Watcher. I
know my voice frightens House People, but let them
pity me and point their guns at something else."

" Short and to the point ! Acquitted ! " said the
Eagle. " Snowy Owl, it is your turn."

CANNIBALS IN COURT

49

This beautiful white Owl, marked here and there
with black bars and spots, had a smooth round head like

a snowball, great yel-
low eyes, and thick-
ly feathered feet ;
his bill and claws were
black, but you could
hardly see them for the
thickness of the feathers
in which they were
muffled up. He
winked with each
eye, clicked his
bill once or
twice, and thus
began :

" I'm a very
good-looking
bird, as you
see — fatally
beautiful, in
fact ; for
House People
shoot me, not
on account of
my sins, but be-

SNOWY OWL. v •*> { ™use I can be

stuffed and sold
for an ornament. I do not stay long enough in the
parts of the country where they live, to do much harm,
even were I a wicked Owl. My home is in Arctic re-
gions, where my feather-lined nest rests on the ground,

50 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

and even in winter I come into the United States only
when driven by snowstorms from the North.

" At home I live chiefly on lemmings, which are a
sort of clumsy, short-tailed field-mice, not good for
anything but to be eaten. When I go visiting I may
take a little feathered game, but oftener I live on my
favorite mice, or go a-fishing in creeks that are not
frozen ; for I am a day Owl, and can see quite well in
the sunlight. You never see me except in winter, for
I am a thing of cold and snow, whose acquaintance you
can seldom cultivate ; but if you knew me well you
would find me gentle, kind, and willing to be friends
with you — if you do not believe me, ask the Wise
Men."

"Acquitted ! You see we are proving our innocence,"
said the Eagle proudly. But he hesitated a moment
before calling upon the Great Horned Owl, as if he
himself doubted the honesty of this savage bird.

He was large, nearly two feet high, with very long
ear-tufts and great staring yellow eyes in the middle
of his large flat face. He was mottled on the back and
wings with buff and black, had on a white cravat, and
his vest was barred with black, white, and buff ; his
sharp black talons were almost hidden by feathers, but
not so much so as the Snowy Owl's.

" None of you like me because you are afraid of me,
and so you would rather condemn me than not," began
the Horned Owl fiercely. " But I am not afraid of
anything or anybody. I am a liberal parent and heap
my nest up with food, like all the Owl and Hawk
Brotherhood. If I wish a Hen or a Goose or a Turkey
I take it, though I may only care to eat the head ; for

CANNIBALS IN COURT

51

GREAT HORNED OWL.

I am very dainty, and any one is welcome to what I
leave. I also like wild game — Ruffed Grouse particu-
larly ; but I eat rabbits and rats enough too, I warrant
you. I could give you a long list of the evil-minded
rodents I kill in every one of the States where I live ;
but I won't, for you might think I wished to prove
myself no cannibal. I don't care what you think of

52 STOEIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

me ; for I am able to take care of myself, and quite
independent.

"I do not even have to build my own nest. In
February, when I need a home, there is always an
old Crow's or Hawk's nest ready for me ; and as for
my young, they are hardy and need no pampering!
Whooo-ooo-hooo — ooo ! Hands off, Bird and House
People ! The Great Horned Owl knows how to use
both beak and claws ! "

"Bound over for trial," said the Eagle, "and you
are lucky not to be committed for contempt of court."

" He is a very cross bird to talk so, even if he does
some good," whispered Dodo to Rap ; for the Doctor
had given the Owl's hoot so cleverly it all seemed real
to the children. Then Judge Eagle spoke again :

" Now for my brothers whose keen eyes can look at
the sun himself — you who strike with the claws and
rend with the beak in open daylight — it is your turn
to speak. Marsh Hawk, where and how do you live ?"

The Marsh Hawk was nineteen inches in length, with
a long tail, pointed wings, and Owl-like face. At first
glance he seemed to be a bluish-gray bird, but on close
inspection one could see that his under parts were white,
mottled with brown, and there was also a large white
patch on his rump. He spoke very clearly and said:

" I roam all over North America, wherever there is
open country and free flying, and make my nest on the
ground wherever I find tufted grass or reeds to hide it.
Marsh lands please me best, and so I am called the
Marsh Hawk. The voices of the Hawk Brotherhood
are like the voices of the winds, far-reaching, but not to
be put in words. Mine is one of the softest of the cries

CANNIBALS IN COURT

53

of the Wise Watchers. Some brothers take their pas-
time in the skies, but I keep near the ground, in search
of the things I harry — mice and other small gnawing
animals, insects, lizards, and frogs. Sometimes I take a

stray Chicken or some other
bird, but very few com-
pared to the countless
rodents I destroy.
House People do
/ not realize that

' '' these gnawers
are the greatest
enemies that the
Wise Watchers
keep in check.
Day and night'
these vermin
gnaw at the
grain, the roots
of things, the fruits, the tree bark, even the eggs and
young of useful birds. I am their chief Harrier ; by
chance only, not choice, am I a cannibal."

44 A very honest statement," said the Eagle. " Ac-
quitted ! Sharp-shinned Hawk, it is your turn."

This little Hawk, only a foot long, was bluish-gray
above and had a black tail barred with ashy ; his white
breast was banded with reddish-brown, and he had a
keen, fierce eye.

44 1 have very little to say for myself," he began.
"Everywhere'in North America I am a cannibal. I
know I am small, but I can kill a bird bigger than
myself, and I have a big brother who is a regular

MARSH HAWK.

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

Chicken and Hen Hawk. I hide my nest in the lengths
of thick evergreens, or on a rocky ledge, and all the
year round I take my own wherever I find it. I prefer
to prey on birds — Dove or Sparrow, Robin or Thrush,
song bird or Croaker — all are alike to me. I consider
myself a true sportsman, and
I do not like such tame game
as mice or frogs. I pounce
or dart according to my
pleasure ; I can fly faster
than any one of you, and
few small birds escape my
clutches. Sometimes in win-
ter I make my home near a
colony of English Sparrows
and eat them all for a change,
just to see how it feels to be
of some use to House People;
but in spite of this I am a
bold, bad bird, and as every
one knows it I may as well
say that I take pride in my
reputation, and do not in-
tend to reform ! "

" Guilty ! " said the Eagle
solemnly. " Red-shouldered
Hawk next."

The Red-shouldered Hawk
held up his head proudly and returned the Eagle's gaze
without flinching. He was a fine muscular bird, stand-
ing a little under two feet high, with deep rusty-red
shoulders and reddish-brown back, while his head, neck,

SHARP-SHINNED HAWK.

CANNIBALS IN COURT

55

and under parts were spotted and cross-barred with
rusty and white. He had a black tail crossed by half
a dozen white bars.

" I am a Hawk of eastern North America, living from
the great plains to the Atlantic coast, going northward

RED-SHOULDERED HAWK.

to the British lands and southward to the warm-watered
Gulf of Mexico. I am often called Hen Hawk by those
who speak without thinking, but in truth I am not
much of a bird-thief, for a good reason. I am a thought-
ful bird, with the deliberate flight of a Night Owl, rather

56 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

than the dash of my daylight brethren. I clear the
fields of mice and other gnawers, besides spiders, grass-
hoppers, and snails ; while as a frog-lover, I am a veri-
table Frenchman.

" I am a faithful Hawk besides, and when I am pro-
tected will nest for a lifetime in the same woodland, if
there is a marsh or spring near by to furnish my daily
frogs. I am faithful also to my mate through life. I
help her build the nest and rear our young. If House
People are kind to me, I can be a gentle friend to them,
even in the trials of captivity ; but if I suspect a stran-
ger, he must look at me only at long range, heavy though
my flight appears.

" So I say boldly that I am a useful bird and a good
Citizen. If you think a Hawk has stolen a pet Hen,
look well before you shoot ; and if he has rusty-red
shoulders count yourself mistaken — and let him go.".

" A true account," said the Eagle ; " you stand ac-
quitted. Sparrow Hawk, your turn."

This charming little Hawk, about the size of a Shrike,
had all the beauty of shape and color of a song bird,
combined with Hawk-like dash. His wings were nar-
row and pointed. His back was reddish-brown with a
few black bars, and there was a broad one on the end of
his tail ; his wings were partly bluish. Underneath he
was white, shading to cream color and spotted with
black. His head was bluish with black markings on
the sides and a red spot on the top. He was not at all
embarrassed at being in such grand company, for he
was used to the best society, having come of noble an-
cestry in the Hawk line.

" You all know me," he said in a clear voice. " Since

CANNIBALS IN COURT

57

Sparrow-killing is ordered by the Wise Men, you should
think well of me — especially you House People, who
love song birds. I will tell you a secret — I am think-
ing of eating no birds but English Sparrows in future ! "

" So you have been
eating other birds ? "
said Dodo.

"Y-e-s, I have, but
not many more
than the Shrike
takes, and most-
ly seed-eaters —
hardly ever an in-
sect-eating song
bird. Do you know
how many bad insects
I eat?" The little
Hawk rattled off a
long list, beginning
with grasshoppers and
ending with beetles ;
but he spoke so fast
that the children
could not remember
half the names he

SPARROW HAWK. VfftiU ^- i

mentioned.

" Where do I live ? All over North America, though
I leave the colder parts in winter, for I like to be com-
fortable. I make my nest in some snug hole that a
Woodpecker has kindly left. Sometimes, for a joke, I
kill Sparrows and take their nest ! Or make myself a
home in a dove-cote — only I never seem to stay there

58 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

^ong, for the Doves tell tales about me. I can sing a
little, too ; I have a high soprano voice and I "

" That will do," interrupted the Eagle. " For a small
bird you are a great talker. But you are acquitted !
Who comes next ? Brother Osprey ? "

The children recognized the Fish Hawk they had
seen the first day they went to the sea-shore.

" The Osprey is a fisherman like myself, so we need
not question him about his habits," continued the Eagle,
who had his own private reasons for not caring to hear
all the Osprey might say, remembering that he had
sometimes stolen fish the Osprey had caught ; " but I
should like to tell the House Children that he is one of
the long-lived birds who mate for life after the manner
of true Eagles, many of whom have lived a hundred
years, and also very industrious. Golden Eagle, what
is your bill of fare ? "

" The food of a wild bird of the mountains, far from
the homes of men. I seize Wild Ducks and other
game birds, hares, rabbits, fawns — yes, and young
calves also, if House People make their dwellings near
me and bring cattle into my fortress ; but if they keep
away from me, I never molest them."

"Humph ! " said the Bald Eagle ; "you and I are
somewhat alike, for though I chiefly fish for a living I
also kill the young of large animals, and even eat car-
rion when game is scarce. But as it is unusual for a
judge to condemn himself, I think I must go free ; and
as there are not very many of either of us, it really
doesn't matter much."

" How many did you condemn as really bad canni-
bals ? " asked Nat, speaking to the Eagle.

CANNIBALS IN COURT

59

"The Sharp-shinned Hawk, and the Great Horned
Owl are held over for further trial ! " answered Judge
Eagle. " These two are the only ones who have been
brought before this court, though accusations have been
made against that big brother of his whom the Sharp-
shin spoke of, and also against a still bigger relative he
did not mention. The names of these two offenders
are Cooper's Hawk and the Goshawk, who will both be

BALD EAGLE.

brought to the bar of justice at our next session. This
court is now adjourned ! "

CHORUS BY THE BIRDS

SWALLOWS were perching on the same telegraph
wires where they had met in May. Now it was Septem-
ber. There were Swallows of all kinds, both old and
young, with whom a great many other birds stopped
for a little chat.

uln a few weeks we must be off — how have you
enjoyed the summer? " asked the Bank Swallow of his
sharp-tailed brother from the barn.

" Excellently well ! Times have changed for the
better ; not a single cat or rat has been seen in my
hayloft all the season, and the window has been always
open."

" So you have changed your mind about House
People ? " said the Bank Swallow slyly.

"Yes — that is, about some House People."

" I wish so many of the Bird Brotherhood did not
leave in the winter ; it makes me quite sad," murmured
the Bluebird.

" Yes. Stay-at-homes, like yourself and Robins and
Finches, must feel very lonely without us," said Barney
kindly; "but I think likely these House People will
scatter food about, so that at least you will not be
hungry — that is, unless they migrate too, as the Cat-
bird says they sometimes do."

CHORUS BY THE BIRDS 61

" Dear, dear ! Think of it, think of it ! " warbled
the Bluebird.

" Zeay ! zeay ! " screamed the Catbird, flying up.
"N-e-w-s! N-e-w-s! The House People are to stay
at our farm all winter ! The man who owns this farm,
the big girl, and the little girl and boy — and the
mother and father bird they belong to — they are all
down in the orchard, talking about it now — how they
are going to something they call ' school,' over in the
village, and how that boy who hops along on one leg
with a stick under his wing is going with them."

" Did they say anything about the Bird Brother-
hood?"

" No, but I heard them say that when the snow falls
they are going up to those horrid dark Owl woods
to see the foxes and little fur beasts — 'Four-footed
Americans' our House Man calls them."

" He gave me a better name than that," said the
Barn Swallow, "one day when he was telling the chil-
dren about the Brotherhood, over in the old barn*. He
looked straight at me and said a whole tree full of nice
things."

" What did he call you ? What did he say about the
Brotherhood ? " asked all the others, crowding around
Barney.

" He said that I swept the sky free of evil insects,
that I was patriotic in coming back to my birthplace
to nest, and that I worked to pay my rent and taxes,
and — "

" And what ? " cried the others in excitement.

" He called me c Citizen Bird ' ! He said all well-
behaved birds, who have their own nests, and belong

(52 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

to the guilds of the Brotherhood, are American Citi-
zens and should be protected ! "

" How badly the Cowbirds must feel ! " said the
chorus.

" Hip, hip, hurrah ! for Citizen Bird and friendly
House People ! " drummed the Downy Woodpecker,
beating away for dear life on a telegraph pole.

Then all the Swallows and Flycatchers began to dash
about the air, whispering " Citizen Bird ! Citizen
Bird ! " And the Bluebird flew down to the garden
bushes to tell his winter companion, the Song Sparrow,
all about it.

VI

MONARCHS IN EXILE

EFORE dusk, on Thanksgiving Day,
dinner was over, and the family
had all gathered in Camp Satur-
day. Mr. Gobble, with his chest-
nut stuffing, proved so tempt-
ing that two small people even
begged for a third piece, and
every one agreed to have only
a light supper before bedtime,
and tell stories first.
"Is Turkey a real American, or did he come over
with House People ? " asked Dodo. " I suppose he did,
because he's a farm bird and very cranky to raise, Rod
says."

" Turkey is not only a true American, and the
emblem of Thanksgiving Day, but our native wild
Turkey is the great-grandfather of all the other Tur-
keys that live everywhere on farms."

The camp was quite in order now, for Dr. Roy had
sent to various places for chests of odds and ends that
had been stored away and almost forgotten. The
board floor was nearly covered by the furry pelts of
various beasts, while others were fastened against the
walls, where some fine Deer's heads spread their

63

64 STORIES OF BIllDS AXJ) BEASTS

pronged and forked antlers, and seemed to wink their
glass eyes as the fire flickered, casting startling
shadows.

" Let's make mother a throne by the fire," said Nat,
drawing out the settle.

" This old woolly cow skin will mostly cover it,"
said Dodo, tugging at a bundle that lay partly un-
folded in the corner.

" Gently, gently," called the Doctor, coining to her
aid. " That ' old cow skin ' is something that belongs
to the past which I could hardly replace. It once
belonged to a Buffalo — that one whose head is over
the window. Nat, take the other corner and we will
spread the skin carefully."

"It's a pretty big skin — bigger than any of the
beasts we saw at the circus ; but I didn't know that
Buffaloes were rare," said Nat. " I thought the wild
West was full of them, and all the Indians did when
they wanted meat or a coat was to go out and kill
one."

" So they did once, my boy, and not so very long

"There is a picture of some in your animal port-
folio," said Dodo, " and in it there are lots and lots of
Buffaloes all over everywhere, more than all the cows
in the pasture down at the milk farm."

" What shall you tell us about to-night, father ? "
asked Olive, coming in, followed by the dogs. " How
will you manage about the stories ; take the animals by
families as you did the birds ? "

"No, I have another plan. In this portfolio are
portraits of our most famous American Mammals,

MONAECHS IN EXILE 65

from ' big game,' as it is called, down to the smallest
nuisance animal. You shall all take turns in choos-
ing the picture you like, and then I will tell you its
story, or, if I do not know it myself, you shall hear Nez,
Uncle Jack, or Olaf for a change. Then when each
story is finished, you must find the animal on the ladder,
and see to what family and guild he belongs. Is it a
bargain?

" Dodo may choose to-night, as she is the youngest.
I will turn the pictures, for the portfolio is heavy."

" Did you draw all these pictures ? " Dodo asked, as
she took her place by her uncle, hardly knowing what
to choose from among so many.

"No, indeed, the man who drew these knew the beast
brotherhood as well as we know each other. In fact,
they are so true that I think Heart of Nature must have
stood beside him and touched his brush and pencil."

" There is a Gray Squirrel in here," chattered Dodo,
" that looks so funny and real, just like the one in our
hickory, that I knew it right away. All these animals
seem to be doing something, too, not sitting round
looking uncomfortable, waiting to have their pictures
taken like some beasts in my reader. I can't choose,
uncle ; I like them all. Here are three cats.' heads
with no bodies ; they must have as nice a story as the
Cheshire Cat. I think I'll shut my eyes and take the
first I touch," she said finally, and her choice fell on
the Buffalo, or Bison as the Wise Men call it.

" You could not have chosen better, for from this
story you will learn why I value that 4 old cow skin '
so much. I think, if we name our stories, they will
seem more interesting. Let us call this one 4 Monarchs

66 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

in Exile,' " said the Doctor, as he fastened the picture
with thumb pins beside the map on the wall, " and I
will tell you why the Buffalo was a king, where his
kingdom was, and how he comes now to be exiled."

"My ! " said Dodo, studying the picture, "he looks
like a great, wild, hump-backed bull gone to fur.
Doesn't the Buffalo belong to the cow family ? "

Nat laughed, but the Doctor said : " Both the im-
ported race of cows and this wild American belong to
the Bovidce, which we may call the meat family for
short, because all the members of it are good for food.
The members of this meat family have their toes
arranged in cloven hoofs, and wear pairs of hollow
horns which, when once grown, last for life. They all
chew the cud and are therefore vegetable eaters. You
can easily remember that all of the meat family belong
to the guild of Hoofed, Hollow-horned Cud-chewers."

" Are not the horns of all animals hollow, and don't
they last for life, unless something breaks them ? "
asked Rap.

"No, the meat family have hollow, curving, rather
smooth horns, that begin to sprout when the animal is
a few months old, and continue growing until the
wearer is fully grown. In the Deer family of cud-
chewers these horns, or antlers as they are then called,
are of solid bone, pronged, tined, or spreading. They
are shed and grown anew every year, and the reason for
this is very interesting — horns, prongs, and antlers
being a whole story by itself. Now let me return to
our Buffalo. First look at the head and hide, then at
the complete animal in the picture. Can you imagine
a more powerful or fierce beast ? "

THE BISON.

MONARCHS IN EXILE 67

" No," said Nat and Dodo, promptly ; but Rap hesi-
tated a little and answered shyly : —

" He must be very big and strong, yet somehow he
looks rather stupid, too, as if he wasn't thinking about
much of anything. But then," he added, as if fearing
to be unjust, "perhaps it is the glass eyes that make
the head look so sleepy."

" You are perfectly right, Rap ; stupidity was the
chief fault, or rather misfortune, of the Buffalo. The
foremost Buffalo in the picture is an old male ; these
males were often six feet high at the shoulder, and
measured ten feet from the tip of the nose to the root
of the tail, eight feet around the body just behind the
fore legs, and weighed from fifteen to seventeen hundred
pounds. Those we saw at the circus were born in
captivity, and were much smaller. The ponderous
head is shaggy, with a tufted crown between the curved
horns that match the hoofs in blackness. The nose
and lips are bare, but the chin is bearded. The shoul-
ders and fore legs down to the knees are covered, as
you see, with thick woolly hair, while the hair on the
back parts of the body is shorter and more wavy.
The hair varies in color and length on the different
parts of the animal, ranging from yellowish brown to
nearly black, and being from four to ten inches in
length. Under the long hair and wool is a thick under-
fur, which grows on the approach of cold weather and
is shed, or moulted, again before summer."

" Oh, what a mess the poor thing must get into when
he moults," said Dodo, stroking the Buffalo robe.
" He has nobody to comb him, and I should think he
would all stick together and tangle. How does he

68 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

manage, uncle? Does he scrape through the bushes
the way a snake does to pull off its old skin ? "

"You have judged rightly; the Buffalo has a hard
time with his coat, and only looks really respectable
a very small part of the year. During four months he
is well dressed, for the other eight he appears in
various stages of rags and tatters. In October he is
quite a gentleman, wearing a new suit of beautifully
shaded brown and buff which he manages to keep fresh
and bright until after Christmas. Soon after this the
effect of wear and tear, storm and snow, appear in a
general fading. You can easily see, however, that the
Buffalo with his winter coat, added to a thick hide,
could defy the weather even of the most open, wind-
swept country, and must be one of the hardiest of our
fourfoots.

" All this tells you how the animal looked. Next
you must know why he was king of American four-
foots : it was because of his usefulness to the two-
footed Americans — the Indians who lived with him
in wood, plain, and prairie, but chiefly in the open
plains. In the long ago every part of the Buffalo was
of service to the wild people who had never seen
a white face, a horse, or a gun. In fact, it is strange
that this shaggy brown monster of the plain was not
worshipped by the savages as a god ; for during the
last three hundred years of their liberty it was the
Buffalo chiefly that made it possible for them to live.
As long as the Indian had the Buffalo to supply his
needs, he was independent and unconquerable.

" In the far back time, of which there is no written
history, man had no other instruments of killing than

MONABCHS IN EXILE 69

did the beast brotherhood, not even the stone axe,
or bow and arrow, being closely akin to the wild
beasts themselves, who were armed only with teeth,
claws, and cunning. Man must have lived origi-
nally on fruits or animals weaker and less sure-footed
than himself. In this struggle for a living the mind
in man began to develop, and he shaped a club or a
stone axe, made traps and then caught animals that
gave him material for better weapons. What animal
could give him more than the Buffalo ?

"The hairy skin made warm robes and other gar-
ments, the hairless hides furnished tent coverings, bags
for carrying food, and, later, when horses came, saddles,
also boats, shields, rawhide ropes, etc. The sinews
made the thread to sew the robes, the lattice for
snow-shoes arid strings for bows ; from the bones
were fashioned many articles of use and ornament ; the
hoofs and horns gave drinking cups and spoons, as well
as the glue with which the Indian fastened his stone
arrow-heads to their wooden shafts. Even the drop-
pings of the Buffalo, when dried, were precious for fuel.
These parts of the Buffalo would alone have made him
valuable ; but we have not mentioned the meat, the
rich, nourishing, wild beef of North America. Think
of the hundreds of pounds of food one beast would
yield!"

" Wasn't it rather tough meat ? " asked Nat. " That
old fellow there on the wall looks as if he would have
needed as much chewing as the gum Rod gave me from
the old cherry tree."

"The meat of an old Buffalo bull certainly was
tough, as the meat of any other old animal is likely to

70 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

be ; but the beef of the three-year-old, or the cows, is
as delicious as our best roast beef.

" Only a part of the meat was eaten fresh, the rest
was dried in various ways and kept for further use ; for
the whole thought of the savage was given to self-pres-
ervation from two ghosts that crossed his path at every
step, — his human enemies and starvation. Often the
last was the more cruel of the two. So the Buffalo
tongues were smoked and dried, the marrow from the
bones packed away in skins, while all the titbits were
pounded fine, mixed with melted fat, and sometimes
berries also, to make a sort of hash more nearly like
sausage-meat than anything else, which was called pern-
mican. When we think of the Buffalo, we must think
of the Indian also, and if the Indian did much at last
to send this beast brother into exile, he also has shared
it with him."

" Have Indians and Buffaloes always lived in North
America," asked Olive, " and if they did not, where did
they come from ? "

" Always is a long time, for when the earth was very
young there were no people anywhere. I suppose you
mean were the Indians the first people known to live
here. Yes, and they may have been the very first peo-
ple to live on this soil — a race by themselves. At any
rate one of the first European discoverers to set foot on
the North American continent found the Indian here
and also the Buffalo. Strangely enough the first Buf-
falo described did not appear as a king of the plains,
but a captive in a Menagerie.

" It was nearly four hundred years ago, when Monte-
zuma II was Emperor of Aztec Mexico, that a Men-

MONARCHS IN EXILE 71

agerie stood in the square of the Capitol. Among the
other beasts in it was one called by an early writer a
4 Mexican Bull, resembling many animals combined in
one, having a humped back like a Camel, a Lion's mane,
horns like a Bull, a long tail, and cloven hoofs,' — this
beast was the American Buffalo.

" How he came to be there no one knows, for they
were not afterward found to range so far south, but he
was probably captured by some of the Mexicans on
their northward expeditions.

" Between this first Buffalo of the Mexican Men-
agerie and the last (which one of you young people
may live to see) stretches the history of this tribe that
exceeded in numbers any other of the greater beasts of
the earth. It reads like some wild legend or impossi-
ble fairy tale, yet it is all true and took place in the
western half of our own country, and when the west
wind blows fiercely around the farm, it has often swept
over the very plains that were the Buffalo's kingdom.
Whole books have been written, and yet have not told
half the tale, which is in a way the history of the kill-
ing of all the great American fourfoots as well.

"The Buffalo's history is in three acts and many
scenes. First, the golden days of peace and plenty,
the rightful killing for food, with laborious hunting, a
fair fight between man and beast. 4 Take what ye need
to eat,' said Heart of Nature to man and beast alike.

" Then the white and red men joined in the pursuit ;
fleet horses were used in the chase instead of men's feet,
bullets killing from afar replaced the arrows shot at close
range. Not merely meat to eat or hides for covering,
or reasonable trade, but waste and butchery. Skins

72 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

traded for whiskey, — the skins too of cows and their
young.

" Last of all came the railroads, bringing the white
hunter with his deadly aim into the last retreat of the
herds. These three acts will show you the living, the
hunting, and the butchering of the Buffalo.

"At first the Buffaloes ranged over all parts of North
America where they could find suitable pasture. See,
I have made lines on the map to show you how it was
found in two-thirds of what are now the United States,
living in western prairies, forest-park land, the plains,
and far up on mountain sides, being found in the North-
west up to the land of snow. Buffaloes, as you know,
are cud-chewers and, of course, grass-eaters, though
when pushed to it they will eat sage brush, and for this
reason they were obliged to move about during the
year more than any other fourfoots, except one kind
of deer ; those in the south going north as summer
dried the grass, and the northerly herds leaving their
summer pasture before heavy snow falls. Buffaloes
usually moved several hundred miles south as winter
came on, and in these annual migrations great numbers
lost their lives ; for often the vast herds would make
this journey on the full run, — stampeding, it is called.
Pushing blindly along, masses of them fell into quick-
sand and over cliffs, or broke through river and lake
ice."

" What made them stampede ? Was not that very
stupid of them ? " said Nat.

" Yes, but like most animals who live in flocks or
herds, and people who live in thick communities, they
were both curious and stupid — what one did they all

MONARCHS IN EXILE 73

did. You know if Nanny Baa starts to run all the
other sheep follow her, — where, it does not matter
to them."

" Yes, and I've noticed that they all try to get
through the same hole in the wall, or pack tight into
some little corner."

" The grass was best in the valleys along the water-
courses, and you would expect the Buffaloes to stay in
such places ; but they were stupid even in their search
for food, and wandered out on the dry plains where the
grass that bore their name was turned to standing hay
by drought and heat.

" The Buffalo had no private life ; his time was
spent in a crowd from the time in spring, when as an
awkward calf he found it difficult to keep up with the
herd in its march, until his life was ended either by
rushing with the stampeding herd into an engulfing bog,
or, if straggling from the herd, wounded or feeble he
fell a victim to the grim gray Wolves who were as the
Buffaloes' shadows, following them ceaselessly.

"The fact that the Buffaloes grazed far and wide
made their daily march to the watercourses a ceremony
of great importance, and their kingdom was furrowed
deeply by these trails worn by innumerable feet as
they all followed their leader to the chosen watering-
place."

" How did they choose their leader ? " asked Dodo.

" Why, the strongest bull, of course," said Nat.

" No, on the contrary, the leader whom they trusted
was often some wise old cow. When she gave the
signal, the feeding stopped, off they all marched, per-
haps miles across country until water was reached,

74 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

always, in spite of their stupidity, choosing the safest
and most direct route to the desired spot."

" How did people find that out, by watching them?"
asked Rap.

" Partly, but their paths or trails were cut so deep,
sometimes two feet, in the clayey ground, that they
remain to this day. You see in the picture the Buf-
faloes are coming down a trail, and with them is
another king of the plains, — the sand-colored sluggish
prairie Rattlesnake. Big as the Buffalo is, he does
not care to pull the leaves from a tuft of curly grass if
he sees one of these snakes near it. Nature evidently
whispers to the Buffalo very early in life : 4 The little
horny knobs on your head will surely grow, a lap for
each year : at three you will carry sharp spikes ; at ten
polished black curved horns ; at twenty, if you live so
long, gnarled, furrowed stubs, — yet do not be proud,
remember that gray Rattlesnake coiled in the dust
carries in his mouth two fangs as deadly as your fiercest
charge. Be friends; do not dispute, but share your
kingdom with him.' So they lived together, but the
snake has outlasted his brother king."

"I shouldn't think then that plains would be nice
places to stay," said Dodo.

" They are not," said Olive, decidedly.

" You are thinking of my story about the time I was
belated, twenty years ago, and had to camp on the
ground instead of coming on to your mother at the
ranch," said the Doctor, laughing.

" Did snakes chase you ? " asked Nat.

" No, but the spot where we were obliged to make
camp was full of their holes, and our horses knew i:

M ON ARCH S IN EXILE 75

and were uneasy; yet they were utterly spent, so we had
no choice but to rest and picket them. We stopped up
the snake holes with hot ashes from our fire, which by
the way was made of Buffalo chips or droppings, spread
a hair rope or lariat in a circle inside, while we put our-
selves on rather than in our blankets."

" Why did you make a circle with the rope ? " asked
Rap.

" Because one of our party, a scout, said a Rattle-
snake would never cross a hair rope, so we put it there
to please the man."

" Did they cross it ? " asked all the children together.

" No, we started in the morning on our search for
water before a single evil-eyed snake had wiggled out,
but I thanked the ashes, not the magic rope."

" Isn't the water rather warm and stale in these
water holes? It usually is in such places here," said
Rap, looking at the picture again.

"Of course it is! Dearie me!!" exclaimed the
Doctor. " You youngsters would not even know it for
water. Wetness is the only thing it has in common
with the poorest puddle on the farm. Much of the
water of prairie and Bad Lands is a cross between
green whitewash and pea soup. Sometimes the lime, of
which it is full, shows white and crusty round the pool
edges as early ice does here. But to return to our
Buffalo procession.

"'If it was a warm day they would often take a roll
in the pools after drinking, and you can imagine what
a spectacle a woolly Buffalo would be after such a bath
in a mud puddle."

" How could they like to be so dirty ? " said Olive,

76 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

who, in spite of her love of everything wild, was as
dainty as a white kid glove.

" They had a practical reason : the mud dried into a
crust that kept the insects from driving them wild.
From doing this frequently, and turning round and
round as they wallowed and splashed, many of these
pools were shaped into sort of deep, round bath tubs,
as a potter shapes a clay vessel with his thumb. In
fact, Buffaloes were so fond of rolling to scratch them-
selves, that they also rolled head first in earth and sand,
as well as water, and in time their horns came, in this
way, to be worn and stubby. 'An English traveller,
early in this century, wrote that in Pennsylvania, before
the Buffaloes had learned to fear people, a man built a
log house near a salt spring where many Buffaloes came
to drink. The Buffaloes evidently thought the house
would make a delightful place to rub and scratch, for
history says they actually rubbed it down !

" Before they learned the dread of House People,
and the necessity of keeping constantly on the watch,
the Buffalo's life was much like that of the great
herds of domestic cattle that now range the same
prairie pastures. The calves frisked and played, the
herds had their times of rest, of plenty and of scarcity,
though the Buffalo was a difficult animal to starve,
and faced out blizzards before which the domestic
cattle would turn tail and perish. This was one
great reason why he should have been protected,
and this magnificent monarch kept in his kingdom
and developed to suit present need. The Buffalo
was able to withstand all the natural dangers, of cold*
hunger, and prowling Wolves, to which he was exposed,

MONAECHS IN EXILE 77

and still increase and multiply. They made good
fathers, too, taking the young calves under their pro-
tection, sometimes hustling them along through the
Wolf packs with horns lowered and tails raised, keep-
ing the calves well inside the flying wedge. Their vi-
tality was so great that, if in falling over a precipice
after some foolish run, a leg was broken, its owner was
quite able to go about on the other three until it knit
again. This is the first scene, — the golden days of
the Buffaloes, — when they swarmed by hundreds of
thousands like mosquitoes over a marsh. These were
the days when the red men had no weapons sufficient
to kill them.

" Listen to what came upon the Buffalo in the second
scene, in the days of fair hunting, this time beginning
we do not know when and lasting until threescore
years ago."

" How many is a score, more than a dozen ? " inter-
rupted Dodo.

"A score is twenty."

" Are there two kinds of scores ? " persisted Dodo,
" for you know, Uncle Roy, a baker's dozen is thirteen,
and a dozen postage stamps is twelve, and down at the
store they sell sticks of candy by postage -stamp meas-
ure."

" A score is no more nor less than twenty," laughed
the Doctor ; "but do not lead me away from our second
scene. When the Indian had no weapons, he could
slay only small game, and even when he had only a club
and stone axe to help him the killing of the thick-
skinned, wool-clad Buffalo must have been a difficult
task. Do the best he could, the red man had to work

78 STOBIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

desperately hard for every pound of flesh or hide he
captured.

"Then the mind of man began to develop and aid
him. The Indian, knowing the Buffalo's habit of
stampeding from fright, laid stones, sticks, and brush on
either side of some open space to make a sort of drive-
way, wide apart at first, but gradualty narrowing until
it ended either in a sort of pen or at the edge of a preci-
pice.

"After a herd was located, and this in itself was
not always easy, a disturbance was made to start it run-
ning in the right direction. Perhaps a man went out
and waved his arms, retreating down the driveway as
the first of the herd came near to look at him. The
curious animal would quicken his pace, and as soon as
he was fairly started the Indian slipped behind the bar-
ricade and joined with his comrades in shouting to
frighten the herd that were now following their leader
at full gallop.

" On the mad throng rushed, crowding and trampling
each other as the track narrowed, until, when they
arrived in the pen, they were giving each other mortal
wounds, the calves tossed on the horns of the old bulls
and the weaker trampled to death. Then, amid great
personal danger, the Indians rushed in and killed those
not already wounded, with stone axes, or in later days
shot them with their flint arrows. You can see that it
must have taken a strong arm to send a clumsy stone
arrow through the thick Buffalo hide. If the animals
were driven over a cliff and fell crippled at the bottom,
the killing took place there in the same manner as in
the pen. After the slaughter, the men discussed various

MONAECHS IN EXILE 79

scenes of the affair as if it had been a battle between
tribes, and the women came in, skinned the animals,
cut up the meat, packed it on their wheel-less dogr-carts,
and took it to camp."

"How can there possibly be a cart without wheels?
It would only be a box that would bump and spill,"
said Dodo, who had kept quiet an unusually long time
for her.

"This Indian cart, as wheel-less as the Eskimo
sledge, is called a travois, and is still in use among the
scattered tribes, except that now it is dragged by
horses. Can you imagine how it was made ? "

" Oh, I know what it is ; we saw it at the Wild
West Show ! Don't you remember ? " shouted Nat.
" The thing like a pair of cross-legged shafts fastened
to the horse's back, with the big ends trailing on the
ground, and braces across right behind the horse's
back knees, to keep it together and make a place to
hold things!"

" Yes, that was a travois, and it is possible to drag
it over ground that would quickly break cart wheels.
Some time after, when the civilized races or House
People came to America and settled along the coasts,
the horse found its way among the Indians. He came
with the Spanish through Mexico in the South, and
from the Canadian French in the North. Soon an
Indian's wealth began to be measured by horses, as
we measure ours by dollars. Indians mounted on
half-breed horses followed the Buffalo over the plains,
with greater success, for, as the old range of these
animals in the East and South was being peopled
and cultivated, the Buffalo crowded westward, as the

80 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

Indians themselves were soon to be crowded from
their hunting-grounds. This was the beginning of the
end, though it took many years yet to drive the mon-
arch from his kingdom.

"Act third came, passed rapidly and with it the
Buffalo. Firearms, from musket to pistol, were plen-
tiful, and then followed the deadly, long-range rifle.
Stupid greed fell upon the Indian and white settler
alike. No one listened to the warning cry, ' Take
what ye need to eat.' It was not only flesh for food
and hides for covering, but hides for sale, and cow
hides at that, with no respect of season. The Indian
found that much deadly fire-water could be bought for
Buffalo skins, and also that the hides of the females
and calves were the softest and most valuable.

" So then the massacre began ; for it was outright
murder to kill the females and young. Whites and
Indians went out to kill, as an army prepared to ma-
noeuvre, surprise, trap, and give no quarter. The Buf-
faloes were chased by men on horseback, who shot with
pistols, as more easily used with one hand, and were
also shot at from ambush with the long-range rifle, so
that the poor bewildered things, often seeing no enemy,
did not know in what direction to escape, and huddled
together helpless victims. Still they held their own
and increased until the last scene of all took place ; and
it seems to me that it was only yesterday.

" A railroad stretched its iron arm across the coun-
try,— it was the Union Pacific. Have you ever seen
the ants rush out of a great hill that has been dis-
turbed ? Could you count them ? "

"Oh," said Rap, "I've seen them often, and you

MONAECHS IN EXILE 81

could no more count them than you could drops of
water in a hurry."

" Well, so it was with the Buffaloes ; there were
never any large fourfoots on earth to equal them in
numbers, and even in my day we have true records of
a single herd, of no less than 4,000,000 head. A friend
of mine once, riding on a train, passed for more than
one hundred miles through a single herd. It was dan-
gerous, I can tell you, for the trains, and they often
had to stop to let the Buffaloes pass by. At this time
the Buffaloes were then in two great herds, the north-
ern and the southern. Then these began to melt away
as great snowballs do in the sun. Railroads meant an
easy way to reach the Buffaloes, an easy way to trans-
port the skins ; for it was the skin more than the
meat that was desired. The engine whistle sounded
the exile of this monarch, and for ten years his kingdom,
shrinking and shifting, was a battlefield strewn with
skinned carcasses. Next, the horns were gathered, and
finally the bleached bones themselves were carried
away to be ground into fertilizer, and thus make the
obliteration complete.

" During a few years more there were stragglers here
and there, and, in 1890, when I was going westward
from the Black Hills in Wyoming, I shot the beast
whose head and skin we have here now. I said, ' I
will take this eastward when I have a home again, that
my grandchildren may believe that such beasts lived,
and that their grandfather knew them on their native
plains, for by that time this king will be in exile.' It
has all happened sooner than I thought.

" Now a few, a mere handful, twenty-four perhaps in

82 STORIES OF BIltDS AND BEASTS

all, live wild in the Yellowstone Park. A hundred
more are scattered here and there in kind captivity,
where they may live for some time, but lose their type
and spirits like the captive Indians. Now you may
travel the plains from New Mexico north and see no
other trace of the Buffalo than a weather-beaten skull,
— the perch for a burrowing Owl, or the retreat of the
other king, the Rattlesnake.

"As the Buffalo vanished, the Indian as a freeman
vanished also ; his wild beef is gone and he is given
rations in begrudged charity. Once both Buffalo and
Indian might have been developed to useful citizens ;
now, if we succeed in preserving either race, it will be
only as captives. The kingdom of each is destroyed,
and the people of this land are not blameless."

" It's a very sad story, and I'm afraid the left-over
Buffaloes won't like it very well even in the new Zool-
ogy Garden," said Dodo, attacking the word bravely,
but missing it. "Any sort of land with a fence
around it must seem crampy for them. I'm very glad,
anyhow, that I saw those at the circus."

VII

WOLF !

ILL you please choose one
of the dog family ? " asked
Rap the next Saturday, when
it was Nat's turn to select a
picture for the story.

" Yes, I meant to choose this
one — the Wolf," said Nat;
"and the picture looks as if
a story really belonged to it."
" ' A Trap ' is printed on

the picture," said Dodo, "but I don't see any trap,
unless the Wolf is caught in one and can't move."

" Wrong, quite wrong, missy," said the Doctor, set-
tling himself by the fire, after taking a couple of skins
from those hanging about the walls and spreading them
before him on the floor.

"Listen, and I will tell you the story of the great
Gray Wolf, whose picture you have here, and also
about his little barking brother, the Coyote."

"It is sure to be a good fierce story," said Dodo,
"because Wolves gobble people, you know. When
you lived far away, were you good friends with Wolves,
uncle?"

" Our American Wolves are not man-eaters as some

83

84 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

of their Old World brothers are thought to be, but say-
ing that I am a friend of Wolves and know all about
them — that is quite a different matter."

" A Wolf has no friends ; he is hated by twof oots
and fourfoots alike. As for knowing all about Wolves
we may know some things and think we know others,
but the comings and goings of a Wolf are as mysterious
as the track of the wind itself. They move from place
to place so suddenly and so swiftly that it would be
easy to believe they flew on the storm, as witches were
said to do on broomsticks."

" Why do you say that some Wolves in other coun-
tries are thought to eat people — don't you believe they
do ? " asked Nat.

" They may sometimes, but it is best not to believe
all that is said about animals ; for there are a great
many of what Rap calls ' boast stories ' floating around,
especially about Wolves. The Wolf is one of the easi-
est animals to see doubled and hear quadrupled. One
may believe that a whole pack is outside the tent, bent
on tearing you limb from limb, or swallowing you,
sleeping blanket and all, when it is really only one
mangy starveling, sniffing about for scraps of bacon or
a bit of venison you have cached a little carelessly."

" Cashed ! " said Nat. " I thought cash was money.
How could you make money out of meat, uncle ? "

" Cached, with a <?, means hidden. It's a word that
came from the French, round by way of the Canadian
voyageurs. It is in common use in camp talk ; a cache
is a hiding-place. The Gray Squirrel, instead of cach-
ing his nuts all in one place as a Red Squirrel does, puts
each one in a separate cache."

TIMBER WOLF.

WOLF! 85

14 Oh, yes, I can understand that," said Dodo.

" When the Squirrel goes to find a nut, he plays
cache-cache then, for that is what French children call
hide-and-seek," said Olive, laughing.

" Wolves all over the world bear very much the same
character. The Wolf is an emblem of deceit and cun-
ning. A Wolf, in the legend, ate Red Riding Hood's
grandmother and tried to trick the child herself. When
it is said of people, 4 They have hard work to keep
the Wolf from the door,' it means that want, or some
trouble as cruel and cunning as a Wolf, is threatening
them. The Gray Wolf, whose skin (the larger of the
two) lies there on the floor, is, next to the Grizzly Bear,
the most cruel and desperate of our fourfoots. Yet he
is a coward ; if he were not he would have given battle
to the death to thousands of the pioneers who, as it was,
struggled inch by inch in face of desperate dangers to
settle this country. Why the Wolf is such a coward
no one knows ; but, fortunately, he is, or his race would
not yet have been driven back until even the sight of
a Wolf, except in a part of the West from Texas to
North Dakota, is a great rarity."

" If this old Wolf skin could only tell what it knows,
the story would not be a dull one. Look at it there,
with its long bristling gray and black hair, brindled
with traces of an under-color of yellowish brown at its
base. The under-fur is soft brown, while on the belly
both hair and fur are white. There is a bit of buff also
about its face, ears, and flanks. See its black whiskers,
the slantwise eye holes, pointed ears, and straight, bushy
tail.

"The body and head are both long. This Wolf

86 STORIES OF 1URDS AND BEASTS

must have been four feet and a half from nose tip to
root of tail. Ah, yes, you handle the empty skin freely
enough ; but give it life, let the strong white dog teeth
snap in its jaws, the bright eyes gleam, and its long-
drawn howl come from the black lips, and you would
not stay near it long. If it only could speak ! " said
the Doctor, pausing and looking at the fire.

"• Wough-ow-ow owou-ough," sounded a weird voice
outside the door. " Wough-oble-oble-oble-ough-o-u-
gooow ! "

" Horrors, what is that ? " cried Olive, startled from
her usual calmness.

" It's Wolves ! " screamed Nat and Rap.

" A whole pack, but they've come for bacon scraps,
they don't want us," shivered Dodo, trying to seem
brave.

Even the Doctor was a little startled, but the sus-
pense only lasted a moment. It was broken by a ring-
ing laugh which, even before he came in, they all knew
belonged to Mr. Blake.

" Oh, daddy ! daddy ! " said Dodo, " I didn't know !
How can you be such an intimate friend of Wolves
that you could cry their cry, when uncle says they
have no friends ? "

u I'm not sure that I am a friend of theirs either,"
said Mr. Blake, throwing himself down on the wolf-
skin rug; ubut I've been among them where they live,
and have heard their talk, and have seen their work."

" Tell them your story of this Wolf skin, then," said
the Doctor ; so after thinking for a few moments, Mr.
Blake began : —

" Every one knows the name of Wolf. This animal

WOLF! 87

is sometimes called Gray Wolf, and the Wise Men now
say Timber Wolf ; but the simple word Wolf stands for
both cruelty and cunning. His family history, from
the time the white men came to settle in this land, is
full of dark deeds and darker punishments. The Ind-
ians repeat many tales about him, and tell how that
long ago the Wolf ate ot tlu meat of knowledge. This
meat was the flesh of the great wide-eared, hornless
Deer who is no longer living, but who was so wise
in his day that he taught the winds how to blow.
Whoever among the fourfoots should take one of these
Deer by fair hunting, and eat its flesh, won great
wisdom for his race, with keen eyes to read hidden sign
languages and a nose to scent every message of the
wind.

" The Bear only licked a bit of this magical meat ;
this brought it cunning and stupidity. The Fox, being
too small to hunt it, nibbled at a piece he did not kill;
this gave him cunning, together with the penalty that
he should be hunted by the beasts of his own tribe.
The Puma seized a piece of flesh another beast had
hidden, and so was given cunning and a sure, swift leap,
but heavy paws that weigh in running. Then a Wolf
slew the last wing-eared Deer of all, not by fair chase,
but by trap and treachery, so that the Deer in dying
branded the Wolf a coward.

" fc Hunt and be ever hunted,' he shrieked. ' Hunt
with hanging head and tail ; hunt treacherously with
wile and snare, for you will have great need of cunning.
An enemy comes from far across the seas, who walks
upright as Bears walk, having a moon-white face, in
one hand carrying fire, and in the other the fine white

88 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

earth that kills,1 and he shall likewise devise magic
wands to spring and hold you fast.

" 4 You will wage war together, this man and you,
but he will conquer. And as a punishment for your
way of killing me, you shall fear to kill him, for your
real name is Coward ! '

"So after many years the white men came from over
seas and settled, though at first there were but few,
and the Wolves still roamed at will about the country
— from the land where the snow never melts, down
through the woods and plains to where the Rio Grande
runs slantwise through the country and the prickly
Peccaries and cacti live. The northern Wolves were
large and grizzly ; but those in the hot south were
smaller and had thinner fur. Wolves wore handsome
robes in those days, and had as many names as Bobo-
links. They were called White Wolves and Black in
the northwest, Red Wolves in the cactus country, and
Gray Wolves everywhere.

"There were some smaller Wolves, who were less
savage and less swift of foot than their brothers, more
doglike and talkative, who babbled the secrets of the
tribe and liked to hang about the homes of House
People, rather than live in woods or caves. The larger
Wolves disliked them, because they were afraid lest
they should tell tribe secrets ; so they turned these
small ones out to be a tribe apart, to feed on meaner
game, and snatch and steal in open places.

" These small Wolves were given charge over sheep,
Jack Rabbits, and such timid things, and men called
them Coyotes (ground burro wers). But the Coyote is

1 Strychnine.

WOLF! 89

also a cunning huntsman, and lays his own traps and
chases Antelope on the plains ; yet to-day there is
hatred between the two tribes, and, if a hungry Timber
Wolf meets his little brother, he will often eat him !

" Look at that Coyote skin on the settle; you can see
it is of a finer texture than this Gray Wolf robe. It is
softly furred, a dark ripple running from head to tail
and across the brindled shoulders, it has white lips, a
rusty face, and a black tip to the tail, and measures a
full tail length shorter than this Gray Wolf's pelt.
The Coyote is little more than a vagabond wild dog,
who barks and howls around the edges of settlements,
licking his lips when a lamb bleats or a cock crows.

" When the Buffalo herds blackened the plains, the
Gray Wolves lived by following them, snatching the
calves or killing the wounded and feeble old ones.
Then great bands of Deer, Elk, Antelope, furnished
them with food at all seasons ; for Wolves with their
spreading feet could follow these heavy, sharp-hoofed
beasts over the deep snow, through which they sank,
and, spent and overcome, soon became the Wolves'
prey.

" As the country was settled, the Wolves crept back ;
for whether the Indian's tale was true or not, a spell
seemed to prevent their killing men. Gun, trap, and
poison were all turned at the Wolves, who were also
chased with dogs ; but still they worked mischief among
horses, flocks, and herds, and still the cry among the
frontiersmen was 4 Wolf ! Wolf ! how shall we destroy
him?'

"Wolves have another fault besides sneak hunting,
they break Nature's law, 4Take what ye need to eat,'

bO STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

and kill in times of plenty as if for the mere greed of
killing, snatching a bite here, a fragment there, then
wasting all the rest. They also have one virtue, which
is common enough among the birds, but rare in four-
foots, — they love their mates; and a friend of mine
who knows Wolves as well as we know people, tells a
story of the fiercest, slyest Wolf of all the southwest,
who, in despair at having lost his mate, rushed headlong
into a trap.

"The home life of the Wolf is very short. His house is
only a hole under some roots, or a sheltering cave, which
covers half a dozen little woolly puppies in the late
spring. Then the Wolves are happy, for it is the season
when the Deer are fattening on the young grass and
wear soft new horns. From this time follows six months
of good living, then half a year that is a war with
famine. Wolves do not sleep the lazy winter sleep like
Bears, but hunt in packs, plotting to make a living like
human thieves. If it had not been that long ago they
ate the meat of knowledge, they would be gone and no
one would understand the cry of Wolf ! As it is, there
are still many of them in the northwest grazing country,
and they increase here and there mysteriously from
Texas to North Dakota even if men continually hunt
and harry them and Deer are few ; for if bread fails
them, they relish cake, by which I mean to say that, it
they can't find venison, they are quite content with veal
and mutton.

" All f ourfoots understand the speech of scent, more
or less, but Wolves certainly are wise with uncommon
wisdom and have a wonderful sign and scent language.
If one of the tribe dies of poison, the others will not eat

WOLF! 91

food scraps in that place. Does a Wolf of some other
tribe run by, driven by fear; he may not be even seen,
but he writes in his track and stopping-places the
message that he wishes other Wolves to know. Every
hair that bristles on a Wolf's back has its own mean-
ing.

"Now listen to the story of this Wolf, whose skin
is on the floor. He and his mate hunted together,
often dashing at a horse or Deer, tearing its running
sinews from behind, with their sharp teeth, or some-
times picking up a calf that ran beside its mother,
always having good eating. Often they would find
a Deer's trail, running from its day cover to a spring,
or to its dainty wood pasturage. The Wolves did not
wish to run together openly, for Deer are very swift,
and would lead them a weary race, so they would sniff
the night wind and get before it so that it might not tell
their doings to the Deer. The wind is fickle, an enemy
to all hunters, always carrying along the latest gossip.
Then one wolf would lie hidden by the runway, while
his mate would show herself openly, and drive the
Deer, at first gently, then fiercely, until it would run
blindly in a circle (a habit of the family) to its first
cover, past the very spot where the other Wolf lay like
a living trap; one spring brought down the Deer and
then the pair feasted at leisure."

" Oh, then that is what 4A Trap ' means on this
picture. The Wolf was a trap for the Deer," said
Dodo. " But how did the Wolf come to die and be
made into this rug ? "

"Bad days came soon after to the pair. The she-
wolf vanished, House People cleared the timber from

92 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

that place and shot most of the Deer to feed themselves.
The next winter was bitter cold, and yet the snow was
not deep enough for our Wolf to chase and overcome
what Deer remained. So he prowled too recklessly
about a camp, and one night stepped into a trap that
gripped his leg, that hind leg that you see now wears
no foot. The Wolf struggled in vain to pull himself
away, and then with awful bites gnawed himself free,
leaving his foot fast in the trap.

" Soon he grew hungrier and hungrier; he could find
no food. Then, being desperate, he said, 4 1 would even
kill a man ! '

" Early the next night he stole down to the camping
place, but he found no one there, and the campfire was
nearly out. Wolves do not like fire — and he thought,
'Surely this is my chance, perhaps they have left some
food,' so he stalked in as boldly as his mangled leg al-
lowed. Then he stopped, for he scented man ! Soon
he went on again, for stretched in the corner lay a
bundle in a blanket, — a man, but hurt and helpless.

"The signs said, 'This man went out hunting with
his friends, he lost their track, he fell and broke his leg,
his gun is buried in the snow, he crawled back alone to
shelter.' Then again the signs whispered to the Wolf
as he hesitated, ' Kill him ! He is yours. He set the
trap that robbed you of your foot.'

" The Wolf growled defiantly and crouched beside the
bundle, waiting until it should give some sign of life to
give the rending bite. The bundle moved and raised
itself, fixing its eyes upon the Wolf, look for look !

" The Wolf glared, but saw in those two human eyes
a light that never is in the eyes of beasts. His breath

WOLF! 93

blew coldly back to him, he shivered, for in his heart
he was a coward. He longed to bite, and yet he did
not dare.

"The sleeping fire outside, that marked the camp,
shot out a flaming tongue. The Wolf started, crouched,
fearing to pass it. Then scenting on the wind that
other men were coming, he slunk out and, not stopping
to read the signs, seized a lump of meat, bolted it, and
ran until he reached the wood edge.

"The tramp of many feet bent the ice crust, hurried
words came from the camp, mingled with the cry of
Wolf ! and the crash of logs. The fire leaped high.
Fire also burned within the Wolf; then came the end
— the scrap of meat that he had swallowed held the
fine white earth that kills ! "

VIII

UNDER THE POLAR STAR

JJCH wind and threatening
weather, then two days
of falling snow that
buried the fences, and
at last the northwest
wind sent the clouds
scurrying, and bright
sunshine returned with
the day before Christ-
mas.

" It is like the pictures in a fairy story ; do look at
the trees and the top of the rose arbor ! " said Dodo
that Friday morning, as she rubbed a peep-hole in the
frost on the dining-room window. " Rod is breaking
the road up the hill, and all you can see is the top of
his head, and Tom and Jerry step in up to where their
blankets are strapped. It's lucky we had the Christ-
mas tree cut down and waiting in the shed before the
snow came."

"It isn't in the shed," said Nat, mischievously, com-
ing in with dancing eyes and a very red, cold nose, the
only parts of his face that could be seen between his
muffler and cap brim.

" Oh, where is it ? " wailed Dodo. " Do you think

94

UNDER THE POLAR STAR 95

any one has stolen it — was there any trail in the
snow ? "

" Yes, some one has dragged the tree out ; I saw the
footprints and marks of the branches ! "

"Do let's go and tell Uncle Roy, or it will be too
late to cut another."

" Nat is teasing you," said Olive. " Father and Un-
cle Jack are the thieves, for I see them dragging the
tree round to the camp now."

Bang! went the door, and the dining room was empty.
*****

The tree touched the ceiling and was fastened to a
beam with wire to keep the top steady, while the stand
that held it was so prettily covered with moss and pine
needles that it looked quite like the ground where the
spruce grew. Pine knots would have been the proper
lights for a camp Christmas tree, but Dr. Roy was so
afraid of setting the old dry beams afire, that he ob-
jected even to candles, and so Mr. Blake had sent to
the city for a number of tiny electric lights that would
twinkle in safety.

Nat and Dodo helped twine the beams with ever-
greens and hang the decorations on the tree, but no
more. They would not for worlds have peeped at even
the corner of a present, they were so fond of being sur-
prised. In spite of the temptation to go outdoors, they
were too much excited to care for making snow houses,
or throwing snowballs, and kept in a perfect fidget un-
til three o'clock, the hour when Rod was to take the
big sleigh to the depot to meet the party from the

mountain.

*****

96 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

" They are coming, they are almost at the corner, for
I can hear the bells ! " cried Dodo. " Now they've
stopped ! "

" They are waiting for Rap and his mother, you know
the sleigh was to call for them. Here they are ! "
shouted Nat, dashing down to the gate, — "that is,
all but Toinette ! "

Sure enough she had not come. " Got bashful at
the last minit," said Nez ; " allowed she'd better stay
home and keep house along with her brother who's
winterin' with us, but they're goin' over to the Ridge
to-morrer to keep Christmas Canady style with some
country folks o' theirn. Reckon they'll see their Christ-
mas candles in church ! "

This was a very long speech for Nez, and he imme-
diately retired to the barn with Rod, looking as if
he was afraid of a real house with carpets and cur-
tains.

Olaf took some oddly shaped parcels from the bottom
of the sleigh and carried them to the stoop, driving
Phonse and Dominique in front of him like a pair of
balky geese; but they soon felt at home and began to
talk when they had been introduced to the dogs and
saw Mammy Bun preparing supper.

" I think those long bundles look as if they might
hold show-shoes," said Nat to Olive ; " but what is
in that green bag, t wonder? "

" I have brought my fiddle," said Olaf, as if in answer
to Nat's question. " Your father said to me : 4 Olaf, I
have a banjo ; bring your fiddle and we will make music
together.'"

Olaf often spoke slowly, as if he thought in his own

UNDER THE POLAR STAR 97

tongue and turned the words to English as he said them,
yet always using good language.

The children began the entertainment of their guests
by showing them everything on the farm, from Sausage
up, and had only half explained the wonder room when
the bell rang for tea.

"The little boys have brought funny knit nighties
and nightcaps with red tassels," whispered Nat to Dodo,
as he returned from showing the Brownies — as Olive
called them — their room and had helped unwind some
of their wrappings.

Supper was a rather mixed, but very merry, meal.
Olive had difficulty in keeping Dodo from asking the
Brownies why they preferred fingers to forks, while
Mr. Wolf and Quick saw instantly that something
unusual was in the air and roved about the table try-
ing to snatch scraps, something that they had never
before dreamed of doing. But then if Christmas comes
but once a year, having a party of two Brownies, a real
live woodsman, and a Fin who knows a Dream Fox, is
rarer yet.

The men went out in the clear starlight for a breath
of air and to smoke their pipes. Rap's mother helped
Mammy Bun in washing dishes and making the kitchen
neat, so that by eight o'clock everything was in order
for the march upon Camp Saturday.

" Isn't it nice ? " said Dodo to the Brownies ; " eight
o'clock is go-to-bed-time on common nights, but Christ-
mas eve it is the very beginning, for daddy says we
may stay up until ten ! "

The Brownies, however, did not understand much
about time, for they usually went to bed whenever it

98 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

grew dark. While they all stood waiting for the sign
to be given for opening the camp door, a scream came
from Mammy Bun, who was already inside.

" For de Ian' sakes, Massa Doctor, come hyar right
smart ! Billy Coon, he am in der tree eatin' eberyting !
I tink he hab bit one o' dem fancy lights, shor' nuff ! "

The waiting procession immediately stampeded.
Fortunately the tree was fastened at the top, or Billy's
fat body would have overturned it and wrought dire
mischief. As it was, he had only eaten a few lady
apples and a candy cane, so he was driven into a far
corner, where he sat devouring a string of popcorn that
caught round his neck, for the Brownies were delighted
to see their old friend, and the children all begged that
he might not be banished.

The tree lights twinkled in earnest, and made such a
blaze that the Brownies blinked, and an hour was spent
in exploring the brunches of the tree after the ground
had been gleaned of the larger gifts. If this was not
a story of fourfoots, I would tell you all about the
presents, — the names of the bicycles that Olive, Nat,
and Dodo received, of Rap's bird book, Mrs. Blake's
soft sealskin jacket, the Brownies' toys, Olaf's carved
pipe, and Nez' knife that had a blade for everything
and one extra. I must riot even whisper about these
things, except to say that the snow-shoes were there ;
but hurry to the story that Olaf told as he gazed from
the tree to the campfire, listening now and then, as if
his words came from the wind outside.

" Who shall choose the pictures to-night ? " asked
Olive. " It is Dodo's turn to-morrow, but this is an
extra evening."

UNDER THE POLAR STAR 99

"Let Olaf choose for himself," said the Doctor.
" He has a story in mind and knows what he needs to
illustrate it."

Olaf took six pictures from the portfolio ; the first
three were of a Polar Bear, a Caribou, and the Musk
Ox, a shaggy, brown beast with drooping horns, that
looked half sheep and half Buffalo. The other three
were of Sea Lions, Seals, and a Walrus.

"They are all strange, far-away, cold country ani-
mals," said Rap ; " just the right sort for a winter
story."

"Mine is a tale of ice and snow, long nights and
short days, of a country whose north border sleeps in
the twilight a third of the year, — if it were not so the
people would be sightless from the snow blindness, —
a land of hunger and cold, of sore famine, and then
brutal hunting. We may call this place Fur Land,
and it lies under the Polar star and is the place where
the white Bear rug and sealskin jacket are at home."

"Please, Olaf," interrupted Dodo, "if you know
about this far-away, cold country, can you tell if the
Reindeer that Santa Claus drove have any American
cousins, and why children never see him driving over
the roofs or coming down the chimneys any more ? "

" Yes," said Olaf, hesitating a moment ; " those Rein-
deer have cousins living with us. They are called the
Caribou, and grow of two varieties, — one short-legged
and stunted, that tracks the treeless Barren Grounds,
and the other here pictured, the Woodland Caribou.
But 4why do children no longer see the good Santa
Claus ? ' That question has a sad, sad answer, coming
from unfair hunting, which drives so many fine things

100

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

out of this land. Think you Saint Nicholas will bring
his magic Deer here for men to shoot with their long-
reaching guns ? He knows their cruel hearts too well,
and keeps away so that no man, pointing to a row of
antlers over his chimney-piece, may say, 4 Those are

WOODLAND CARIBOU.

the horns of Santa Glaus' Reindeer ; I myself shot
them ail with a single bullet ! '

" Come then, whistle to our Woodland Caribou to
take us to this Fur Land, but do not be impatient ; he
has far to journey to us.

" He has his home in the woods, upon our northern
borders and on into ;fche British Kingdom, as far as trees

UNDER THE POLAR STAR 101

grow to give him shelter. In summer he loves cool
marshes, where he feeds on plant roots and fresh tree
buds ; in winter he journeys to high ground and paws
the snow away to find grass, moss, or lichens, so he is
always restless, moving about more than his stunted
brother of the Barren Grounds, and we must often look
far and wide to find him. Ah, he is a fourfoot built to
stand the cold, and shod for snow striding ! Look at
his picture. See the strange antlers, both palmed and
tined, branching downward as gnarled old trees, no two
pairs growing quite alike. Even the female Caribou,
or, as she is called in this tribe, the cow, wears small,
spiked horns. See his long, stout hair that makes a
thatch like straw to keep the wet and cold out of his
undercoat. He is not pretty, this Caribou ; ah, no ! his
face and neck look faded, and he is at best a dingy sort
of brown with a lighter colored rump. His tail is lined
with white, and, when raised, becomes his signal flag of
danger. See the foot gear he wears ; is it not wonder-
ful ? Two hoofed, spreading toes, curved inward, with
two more behind, all edged with stiff hairs. When he
plants his feet his hind legs bend toward the ground,
making long snow-shoes such as no other deer wears.
The palm-horned Moose, the largest of our deer, sinks
in the snow, and after much running, falls exhausted.
The Elk, the king of all his tribe, has small, sharp-
edged hoofs ; but this, the third from the largest, the
awkward Caribou, wears such snow-shoes that, if he
were tamed and trained, he too, like his Reindeer
cousin, would be a useful beast of burden in our bleak,
north country.

" He does not come ; whistling will not bring him ;

102 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

we must go without him, for we cannot wait. Per-
haps, as he sheds his great antlers near Christmas time,
he feels shy and helpless. I will call the 4 Day-Dream
Fox' to guide us. Look well at the map while we are
travelling open eyed, for he leads the mind in minutes,
where it would take the feet long months to follow.

" Go up through our plains to the British countries,
where the great company of Hudson's Bay catches
fur for half the world, and the Beaver, Otter, Sable,
Mink, Wolverine, and Silver Fox still flourish, — on
across Assiniboia and Saskatchewan. See, we find the
names of fourfoots everywhere : Bear Lake and Rein-
deer Lake, while curving from the Rockies toward
Hudson's Bay we cross the Caribou Mountains."

" Did you learn American geography when you went
to school 'way up in Finland ? " asked Dodo, "or did you
learn it by walking over the country? "

" I learned a little even then, and much more after-
ward, and I have lived in this North Country for three
years. Beyond the Caribou Mountains we come to
Great Slave Lake, and from there up to the water's
edge we are in the Barren Grounds. Barren of trees,
of everything but fiercest Wolves, the White Fox, Musk
Ox, Caribou, and a few grim Bears who wear changed
faces from their grizzly mountain brothers, through liv-
ing in this bare wilderness. This place is like a battle
ground, where Wolf kills Ox, Caribou, and Fox, while
the Indian, when he ventures up so far, kills all these
in turn.

"There I can fancy the Musk Oxen standing in a
herd of twenty or more, packed closely for defence,
frightened by scent of blood, as if wild dogs or Wolves

UNDER THE POLAR STAR 103

surrounded them. If it were spring, I should know
that the young calves were there inside the protecting
ring. What are they watching ? One of their herd
in terror sniffs and paws the ground where a Wolf has
dragged some bleeding meat, like the ox in our picture.
This beast, though called an ox, is really more like a
great sheep, measuring over four feet at the shoulders."

" How is it more like a sheep ? " asked Nat.

" The Wise Men say that its teeth are like a sheep's,
and its feet like those of an ox," said Dr. Roy, to help
Olaf, who knew what he had seen, but not so much
about the bones and building material of animals. " He
has, you see, an ox's nose, but his horns curve strangely
downward. His brown robe is longer and thicker than
the coat of any other of our fourfoots, quite covering
his short sheep's tail. The hairy coat is almost two
feet long, while underneath, packed closely to the body,
is a fleece blanket that falls away in summer."

" I see his funny, turned-in, hairy, snow-shoe toes,
and he has a bit of a Buffalo's hump," said Dodo, after
looking at the picture. " How queer it is to find that
such strange beasts belong in our America ! "

" Yes," said Dr. Roy, " and, what is more, with the
exception of Greenland they live nowhere else but in
North America."

" Does the Musk Ox make good meat, like the Buf-
falo ? " asked Rap.

" Oh, no, very poor meat, coarse and tough, with the
rank flavor of musk that gives this ox its name. Only
Wolves and starving Indians care to eat it. The skin
is tough and serviceable enough if you can get it off
without tearing.

104 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

"What does the Musk Ox eat?" asked Nat.

" Moss, wiry grass, and lichens, a scanty living dug
from beneath the snow with the hooked horns, or scraped
up with the hoofs that do double service in digging and
helping the ox climb rocks, and also to run swiftly over
slippery ground. The cud-chewers fare poorly in the
Northlands. Where the prowling flesh-eaters can feed
upon each other, the grass-eaters often go hungry, and
all the beasts of the Barren Grounds are flesh-eaters,
save the Caribou and Musk Ox.

" Now we go further north and reach frozen sea edges.
Round these ice-clad borders prowl the Polar Bears,
following the ice downward as it creeps to open sea in
winter, and going north again in summer, seldom com-
ing twoscore miles inland, like the coast-loving Eskimo
himself.

" What is he made of, this great, clumsy, half-ton mass
of flesh, clothed in thick, yellow-white fur from nose tip
to point of claws? Clothed ? — no; padded is the batter
word, for his long neck and small head grow from a
rolling bale of fur on legs. This White Bear sleeps on
ice and soaks in ice water, never dreaming of the cold.
Can he be warm-blooded flesh ? But yes, he is. The
she Bears bring forth their young in icy caves and
harden their cubs to swim with them in icy seas, and to
follow their parents while they track and hunt down
their Seal and Walrus meat, or shuffle along the shores
to feed upon dead Whales.

"A great hunter is this Bear, quick of tooth and
claw; he stalks the Seals as men do, stealing behind
them when they come upon land, seizing them when
they turn to hide in their water-holes. Over all the

POLAR BEAR AND SEAL.

UNDER THE POLAR STAR 105

lands and seas of ice this Bear is king of fourfoots.
Of man, too, he was king, when man meant only the
Eskimo armed with a knife and spear. Then Bear
hunting was dangerous indeed, — blow for blow, tooth
against knife-blade, arm of muscle tipped with long
claws against brittle harpoon. Now a long-range rifle,
keen eyes, and a steady hand, have turned the peril
from man to Bear, and soon the great hungry beasts
will have left the Arctic twilight as the Bison left
the prairie. Snow may be her bed, but the she Bear's
heart beats warm and lovingly for her cubs, — or rather
cub, for she usually has but one, — and she will let her-
self be killed before man or beast may touch it.

"Tramp, tramp, tramp, go the Bear's feet through
the snow, leaving the even-planted print of heel and
toe, as a man's foot does. Now follow them round
Hudson's Bay, across the north coast, turning south-
ward down Alaska. Then crossing Behring Strait, go
on to where ice floes go through the chains and dots of
islands to the Pribilofs, where in summer there are no
nights and in winter moonlight is daylight, the islands
where the sealskin jacket lived when it was at home,
for I can guess that this jacket was once the covering
of three bachelor Seals ! "

TX

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME

IE now leave dry land, though
when one follows the Polar
Bear over the caked ice,
who can tell if it is earth,
rock, or frozen water that
lies underneath.

*". &Jfc*& "The tribe of fin-footed

.,__".. ,^*«w«?r watermen {Pinnipeds) live
on the frozen sea edges and

islands from Labrador around the north coast to the
Pacific Ocean. The Polar Bear spends the chief part
of his time on the land, going in fishing and swimming
for pleasure ; but these watermen pass most of their
time in the water where their food is, floating with
drifting ice floes, and hauling up on the islands to rest
for a time in summer when their cubs are born."

" Why do you say hauling up ? " asked Nat. " Haven't
these beasts legs, and can't they walk ? In my spelling
book it says haul means to pull or drag."

"It says rightly," answered Olaf, "for these beasts
drag themselves when on land, and their legs are not as
the limbs of Deer or Bear, but flippers set deep in the
flesh, shaped half like the fins of a fish. To see them
it seems impossible that they should move at all, either

106

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 107

in water or on land. Four kinds of these fin-footed
ones I know, for two of my three cold northern years
I lived where they are killed. Pah ! it was a cruel
country, reeking with smells, and mine was a loathsome
living.

"These four watermen are named the Walrus, the
Sea Lion, the Sea Bear or Fur Seal, and the Harbor
Seal. Of these the Walrus is king, if size and ancient
name make royalty. Back in the legends of my coun-
try this 'Whale Horse,' as he was called, of the Atlantic
coast is pictured, and one was taken to good King
Alfred's court by Othere, the Viking. What they
thought of it I do not know, but those were the days
when men believed the sea peopled with monsters and
saw mermaids riding on the waves, and fashioned the
Unicorn upon their shields from memory of that spike-
nosed Whale, the Narwhal, that they had doubtless
seen stranded upon some northern beach. But no
dream beast could match the Walrus in homeliness.

" Look at the picture of this lump of fat, flesh, and
bones — it is the giant of the coast, those on the Pacific
shore growing larger than their Atlantic brothers. Is
he not monstrously ugly ? Twelve feet and more from
nose to rump, twelve feet and more in girth. The huge
wrinkled neck supporting a small head with small eyes
and two long tusk teeth, while the rough whiskers
on the snout look like seaweeds clinging to a water-
mossed rock. What has the beast to help him either
swim or walk ? Four limbs so deeply sunk in flesh and
skin that you see only five-fingered hands, wearing skin
mittens. These serve well for paddles, and their owner
can rest almost upright in the water, floating easily, for

108 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

all about his chest and neck are layers of oily fat or
blubber, which make a life raft of him, while his thick,
tough hide, scarred with wounds from rocks, harpoons,
Bears' claws, and the tusks of rivals, keeps him from
growing water soaked and chilly. He is warm blooded,
and yet able to stay under water half an hour at a time
without coming up to .breathe.

" How does he feed this great body of his, and lay
up the layers of fat that draw his hide in creases like
seams in rocks ? By digging clams and water roots,
scraping mussels and other shell-fish from the kelp beds
with his tusks, and he also uses these tusks as hooks to
help in pulling himself over the rocks and shoals of* the
summer breeding-grounds."

"Why doesn't he eat seaweed?" said Dodo. "I
should think it would be a great deal of trouble to
open clams enough to feed such a 'mense thing ! "

44 All of this tribe of Pinnipeds, as the Wise Men call
them, live chiefly on animal food," said the Doctor,
" their teeth showing them to be flesh eating or car-niv-
o-rous, but Olaf will tell you that they do not stop to
open the clams — they are not so dainty in their fish-
ing as the Crows ! "

"No, they swallow them by the bushel, shells and
all," continued Olaf. " If it hurts them or not, who
can say, for they tell no one their secrets, but it may
-be that they are complaining when they cry and roar,
as they do at all times of the year, with a growling
honk that might be the call of a wild goose goblin.
Sometimes in the spring and early summer, the season
of cool fog on the northwest breeding islands, I have
stood on a cliff and could not tell by sight alone if it

ATLANTIC WALRUS.

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 109

was ocean all about me — then I would hear their honk
below, different in key from the roar of the Sea Lion."

" Aren't they awfully fierce beasts to meet ? " asked
Rap.

" They look fierce, and when killed with spear or
harpoon may give the whaler or Eskimo some scars
or crush him by rolling their ton weight on him, in
their terror to get back from land to sea. But that
is all, and how can such a piece of clumsiness long es-
cape extermination if he is hunted persistently with
the rifle?"

u Are they good for much ? " asked Nat. " Of course
you couldn't use that ugly skin to make fur coats, and
daddy says that the oil from wells in the ground is
easier to get nowadays than animal oil."

"We could do without them well enough, but they
mean food and clothes, heat, light, and life itself to' the
poor Eskimos. Even with the Walrus, life to them is
not easy; without him it means awful, slow starvation.
Listen to what the Walrus gives. First of all, his
coarse meat is the Eskimos' beef, 'their only change
from fish, for many of them live out of the range of
Bear meat and dare not venture through the Barren
Grounds for the Musk Ox. Walrus meat is eaten fresh
and also packed away as food, for all the year. Its oil
gives him light and fuel also in that treeless land."

" Oh, then the Eskimos have oil stoves, the same as
we do ! " cried Dodo. " I wonder if they make the
choky, smoky smell that the one does in daddy's dress-
ing room ? "

" They burn the oil without the stove, and the smoky
smell is very, very large," said Olaf, spreading his

110 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

hands wide apart and wrinkling his face as if he re-
membered a very bad smell. " Next to the oil in value,
comes the hide. When it is stretched and well dried
it makes a fine cover for boats, that is stronger to stand
the sharp-edged ice than any wood could be ; the hide
also serves to make harness for the Eskimo's sledge
dogs. The strong sinews of the back make thongs for
bird and fish nets, boot laces, and thread for sewing
boat covers and clothes. The gullet or throat is used
for boot legs, with the flipper bottoms fitted on for
soles. The intestines, which are perhaps sixty feet
long, are cut in strips, and when stretched and dried
are sewn together to make the waterproof clothing that
these people wear in their fishing and hunting."

" Oh, dear, how much the poor Eskimo women must
have to sew ! " murmured Dodo, " and what long seams ;
I've seen Mammy Bun take those wormy looking insides
out of a chicken, and even they were ever so long ! "

" The tusks, though of a poor quality of ivory, serve
many purposes, not the least of them being to trade
away for such iron and steel articles as the Eskimo
needs but cannot make. Now you can well understand
how he could not live long without the beast that yields
him so much. But greedy people, who have many other
ways to make a living, do not think of this, and fit out
steam vessels that can go everywhere, with guns that
kill from far, and take from the Eskimo his all.

"This Walrus is a first cousin to the Sea Bear or
Fur Seal of the jacket, and we must go down the
Behring Straits to catch him in his home. Down past
the St. Lawrence and St. Matthew Islands, the Walrus'
summer haunts, we come to the Pribilof Islands, — St.

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 111

Paul and St. George, — where I spent those two years
of much disgust ! "

" What does Pribilof mean ? " asked Nat. " It sounds
as if it might be the Indian for pretty-far-off"; where-
upon Dodo laughed in great glee and said, —

" I shall always call those the Pretty-far-off Islands,
for it is a true name for them and much easier to
remember than the other. I missed that last week in
my geography lesson ! "

" Pribylov was the name of the Russian explorer who
discovered this group which now belongs to us," said
Dr. Hunter ; " his ship the St. George giving the name
to one of the islands. These islands were too far off
shore for Indians to reach them, so that the Sea Bears
and Sea Lions lived there in peace until the coming of
civilized people a little more than one hundred years
ago, but since then the cry has been, 4 Kill ! kill ! kill !
— balls, cows, cubs, everything ! '- — the Buffalo's story
again, but this time carried out to sea until the poor,
persecuted water brothers are the cause of dispute be-
tween nations, and it seems that soon nothing will be
left of them but the very bones of contention ! "

"Wasn't it awfully cold on these islands, Olaf?"
asked Rap.

" Not so cold as on the mainland, far less cold than
you would think, for the warm Pacific current flows
around them. In midwinter, it is true, ice floes come
from the north and hush the song of the surf on the
beaches, yet it is not so keenly cold as it is here. With
June comes summer, for there are no half seasons like
your spring and fall. In winter there are no days, in
summer no nights."

112 STOEIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

" It seems quite right, too," said Nat, " for in a place
like that there can't be many leaves to spring up and
fall down again."

" Summer is the season of cool fogs and mists that
shield the Seals from the sun and keep them comfort-
able while on land. In fact, the summer weather is like
your autumn season."

" Then it is no wonder, as one story says, that the
Seal tribe, ages ago, going from its Antarctic home on a
swimming excursion, should have found these islands a
pleasant camping spot and passed word of it to all their
relations," added Dr. Roy.

" What do you call the people on these islands, Uncle
Roy ? " asked Nat — " Eskimos or Indians ? "

" They are Aleuts, one of the lowest northwest tribes
of Indians and akin to Eskimos."

"Now," continued Olaf, "picture to yourself a fine,
full-grown male Fur Seal as he comes up on the land
the last of May to select the square of shore he wishes
for his summer home. He is not more than five or six
years old, which is the prime of Seal life. He is more
clever than the Walrus, moves more easily, and meas-
ures about seven feet from tip of nose to where his tail
would be, if it had not forgotten to grow. At this time,
fresh from the feeding-grounds, he is fat and should
weigh five hundred pounds. His head is small, but the
eyes large and speaking. He wears a long mustache,
but it is of bristles and not like that of the Walrus,
and he has a way of closing his nose and ears in swim-
ming to keep water out. The neck is long and the
shoulders are thick, and he is a better shape, not slop-
ing so much aft as the Walrus. His fore limbs are

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME

113

merely a pair of black gloved hands, but his hind feet
are wider, like a drawn-out human foot spread at right
angles from its body. He uses these fore flippers in
walking quite like legs, and, though he shuffles along,
does not cling and crawl like the Walrus. His hind
flippers propel him through the water like paddles.

SEA BEAR OB FUR SEAL.

" The male wears two coats, like most fur beasts.
One of shining, strawlike over-hair, the other the soft
under-fur we see in jackets. At the first glance you
would say that this Seal is dark brown in color, with
some white or grizzly hairs. The female is much
smaller, not measuring more than five feet. She is less
clumsy and of more graceful shape. Her head is well,
formed and she has gentle, lustrous eyes. Her skin,
when wet, varies in color from beautiful deep gray and

114 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

whitish underneath, to an ashy brown mantle and buffy
belly, when dry.

" From early May until the middle of June the Seals
come from their winter feeding-grounds and haul upon
land. The males come first, each striving for the place
he likes best and fighting fierce battles with his rivals
to secure it. Thus it happens that the strongest Seals
keep the best places near the water's edge, and the
weaker are driven further inland.

" When the females come in late June or early July,
only a day or so before their cubs are born, there is
fierce war, each male Seal seizing the mates he wishes
to come and live in the square of ground he calls his
house, lifting them as if they were only so many kit-
tens. Thus it happens that those strong ones near the
shore secure a houseful, while those far up have hard
work to find even one mate. Then there is always a
herd of roving bachelors, young Seals and those who
have no homes or mates, who go together in a separate
place to spend the summer. The law holds that these
bachelors are the only ones that should be killed for
fur, and that no guns or dogs shall aid in their killing.
If this law had been kept, then would the tribe still
hold its own.

" The fur of this Sea Bear must be taken in June or
July, before the winter coat is shed, or in early autumn
when the new coat is fresh, for the law says these ani-
mals may not be taken on American ground between
October and June."

" But suppose people follow them and kill them in
the water and shoot the females, too, — what happens
then?" asked Rap.

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 115

" Trouble," said Dr. Roy. "Trouble between nations,
unwise, angry words in the newspapers, and the killing
out of Seals ! "

"If Seals may not be chased with dogs or shot at,
how are they caught ? " asked Olive.

" They are driven up to the killing grounds, as pigs
or cattle are driven to the slaughter house ! " said
Olaf, " and in this way it is done.

" The bachelor Seals, who are chiefly those under five
or six years old, live by themselves, and lie near the
water and sleep soundly, but in the homes or rookeries
there is noise and tumult all night. These bachelors
sleep on the beach, one close to the other, like rows of
tiles upon a roof top. Down go the drivers, native
Islanders, and take their stand between the water and
the Seals, who, being awakened and seeing the men be-
tween them and the water, start landward, thinking to
escape, and so are driven up to the killing places near
the villages, where the Seal families will not be dis-
turbed by them."

" Isn't it very slow walking ? " asked Dodo.

" Yes, very ; for though a Seal can run a few yards,
he can walk safely only half a mile an hour, and the
drivers must be careful not to hurry the Seals, or the
heat makes their fur drop off and spoils the pelt."

" If a Seal is driven too fast he gasps and has to stop
and fan himself, for Seals have no sweat glands to cool
off the blood, and can only perspire by panting, like
dogs," said Dr. Roy.

" Care must be taken not to kill very young Seals
also. A Seal's skin is best when it is three or four years
old, after that it grows uneven and ragged. The pelt

116 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

is taken quickly, as soon as the animal is dead, lest it
heat and the fur loosens. Is it ready then to make a
coat ? Ah, no ; it must be dried and sent away for
skilful hands to pluck out the long rough hairs that
cover the soft fur, and then they dye this under-fur to
the ^soft color that you know, the color of that jacket
that has in it the pelts of three Seal bachelors. Of
the 'killing of the Seal I will not speak, only to say
that I could not harden myself to it and so I came
away.

"Meanwhile what happens in the rookeries? The
male Seals roar and fight among themselves, the young
are born, and the cows go daily to the sea for food,
sometimes staying all night and leaving the sucklings
hungry, for the cows are poor mothers, not caring much
for their cubs. The males are brave, however, and
fight most fiercely to defend their homes. So jealously
are these homes guarded, lest any rival should touch
their families, that the males will not leave to go down
to the sea for their food, and so they stay on land and
starve all summer. In the autumn, when housekeeping
is over, they are thin and wretched, having used up all
their fat, like the Bears at the end of winter."

" How strange," said Olive, " the Bear goes without
eating in winter an,d the Seal in summer ! "

"They suffer greatly in hot weather," continued
Olaf ; " you may see them lying on their sides fanning
themselves with their hind flippers, or find the females,
as soon as the young have learned to swim, sleeping in
the water with only their nostrils out. This habit of
floating and sleeping makes them an easy prey for
Sharks and the fierce Killer Whales. Even on land

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 117

the Seal sleeps so soundly that I have crept up and
pulled his whiskers before he awoke. In August the
homes break up, all is in an uproar, and the 'choo-choo-
choo ' call of the female sounds loud above the surf,
though it is December before the last male has left for
the winter feeding-grounds.

"The Fur Seal's brother, the Sea Lion, haunts these
same islands, though he is hunted elsewhere with Otter
spears and guns. He is useful chiefly to the natives of
the Aleutian Islands, giving them all that the Walrus
yields the Eskimo.

" The California Sea Lion looks much like a male
Seal, but his neck is straight and thinner and his front
flippers are cased in mittens without even a thumb,
while the Seal, you see by the picture, wears short-
fingered gloves. This Sea Lion wears no fur, but is
covered with short hair, which varies in color with the
season from yellow to dark brown. His voice is a deep
lion's roar that can be heard above the storm, and his
food is almost like the Seal's, — fish, shell-fish, crabs,
and a few sea-birds. His flesh is not bad eating, and
the fat and blubber are without the evil smell that
makes the Seal so sickening to handle.

"This Sea Lion is shy, keener of eye and ear than
the Sea Bear, and must be hunted by moonlight, the
driving season being early autumn. When the Lions
awake suddenly, like the Seals they start to escape the
way they happen to face, some going seaward, the
others being slowly driven up to the villages, for they
can only creep and hobble along, and they have none of
the cleverness of the Fur Seal. These also we will
leave at the killing grounds ; to follow them would only

118

STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

sadden you. But we know at best they are useless to
us, and trouble the Fur Seals by worrying them and
disputing their breeding grounds, so the Aleuts are
welcome to them.

" Another waterman there is that, even now, you may
see for yourselves some day about a rocky harbor or
river mouth. He wears hair and no fur, and he is the
true Seal, not the Sea Bear. He is, or was, common to

HARBOR SEAL.

all coasts, and has many names, — Sea Dog, Hair Seal,
Common Seal, or Harbor Seal."

" Harbor Seal is the name that Wise Men prefer,"
said Dr. Roy ; " and when my father was a young man
these Seals haunted the rocks of New York harbor in
great numbers. Robbins Reef, that we have so often
passed, Olive, was called after these Seals by Dutch
sailors, robyn meaning Seal in their language."

" I knew not that," said Olaf ; " but in spring they
herd about Newfoundland, having their young in May
and June, but going to the warmer sea islands in

A SEALSKIN JACKET AT HOME 119

winter. They are beautiful little Seals, with dull
yellow skins, often handsomely mottled with black,
such as they cover trunks with in my country ; and
among the Greenlanders it is said the women love
the skin above all others for making trousers."

" Do savage women there wear trousers, the same as
some women do here when they ride bicycles ? " asked
Dodo, much to her uncle's amusement.

"I have not seen those savages here," said Olaf;
" but up in the north land women must dress much like
men, or they would surely freeze.

" The Harbor Seal cow has a gentle, half-human face,
and a better heart than the Fur Seal. She is a kind
mother also to her single cub, protecting and loving it,
and grieving if it dies. These seals are shy beasts, too,
and are never caught in great numbers, even though
their flesh makes the best seal beef. They lead lonely
but happy lives, catching sea-birds and fishing and
sporting in the water with their families.

" Now we will leave these watermen and hurry back
home across country lest the ' Day-Dream Fox ' grows
sleepy and the real Dream Fox finds us far from home,
and we have to lie out in the snow like the Polar
Bear."

THE BEAVER'S STORY
(AS TOLD BY HIMSELF)

BEAVERS are strangely wise animals,"
said Dr. Roy, the evening that Nat
chose a Beaver picture, " and the
best way to give you a glimpse of
their habits and homes will be to read
you a Beaver's story of himself."
So saying the Doctor took some
sheets of paper from the table
and asked Nat to bring a lamp,
for they usually listened to the
stories by the fire-light alone.

" Who wrote this story ? " asked Dodo, " for of course
a Beaver can't write, at least, I mean, in our lan-
guage," for she had come to believe that animals can
do almost everything. " Is it your writing, Uncle Roy,
or is it daddy's ? "

" Come and see for yourself."

" It is nobody's writing ; it is printed with a type-
writing machine," said Olive. " I suppose Olaf would
say that the Dream Fox did it."

" No questions answered," laughed the Doctor. " No
matter how the story found its way into words, or if it
sounds like a fairy tale, I can promise that every word

120

THE BEAVER'S STORY 121

of it is true. If you doubt it, you may ask the very
first Wise Man you meet.

(A BEAVER LEAVES HIS WORK TO CHAT A FEW MOMENTS IN
THE MOONLIGHT)

" ' I am a fourfoot of a very ancient family and one
of the oldest of Mammals. Land and water both
desired to own me, so Nature planned me to be shared
by both, giving me the fore paws of a land animal and
the strong webbed hind feet of a swimmer.

" ' As I sit on this low bank and look at my reflection
in the pond, it seems to me that, though I am a decidedly
remarkable and intelligent beast, I am very plain, or,
an ill-natured person might say, ugly in appearance.
My body is about three feet long from my nose to the
beginning of my tail. I slope fore and aft, humping
up in the middle like a haystack. My long claws are
of the pattern given to burrowers, from the Badger to
the Gopher, and my four gnawing teeth, of a strange
design, are curved and powerful, the lower two being
five and the upper pair four inches long. Yet they are
set so deeply in the jaw that little more than an inch
of them is seen, like tools that are braced deeply in
their handles to give extra strength. The outside of
these teeth is of a stronger texture than the inside,
which causes them to wear down toward the back,
giving them the cutting edge of a keen chisel.

" ' Look at my tail ! It is nine inches long, and in
the middle half as wide as its length ; it is a flat, scaly
paddle, in fact. You shall see how it serves me as a
rudder, a danger signal, and a mason's trowel.

" 4 The color of my fur coat is usually reddish brown,

122 STORIES OF BlliDS AND J3EASTS

tinged variously with yellow and sometimes veiled with
black. My under-fur is all plain brown, about half an
inch long and soft as a Seal's. It was this fur that led
my race into trouble, and caused us to be so popular
with trappers that we were killed out from about the
rivers and ponds where House Children might have
seen our lodges and runways as freely as they do those
of the Muskrat, Our soft, even fur made fine Beaver
hats ; our pelts were strong and elastic — they made
good gloves; our tails were layered with fat — they
made good eating for the Indians. Once we were so
important that the great Fur Company of Hudson's
Bay stamped our name upon a coin for a sign of value,
" 1 Made Beaver."

" 4 So we were trapped in and out of season, cruelly
and wastefully, young and old together, until we are but
a small tribe, and in all this wide country we inhabit
but a few solitary spots, and so you do not know us.

"4I am a wonder to the Wise Men, and there are
many things about me that they cannot understand.
According to their ways of measuring and judging, I
am low among the Mammals. They find that I have a
small heart and lungs, that I breathe slowly, have no
skill as a hunter, and prefer to live on harsh vegetable
food, such as the bark of soft-wooded trees. They look
at my teeth and put me in the tribe of gnawers, — the
family of Rats, Mice, and other nuisance animals. But
when they come to watch me at my work, and see that I
am a wood-chopper, architect, engineer, and mason, they
are indeed puzzled, for they say : " A Beaver has a small,
smooth brain ; people who think have wrinkled brains.
How comes this, for a Beaver thinks and plans ? " Then

BEAVERS AT WORK.

THE REAVER'S STORY 123

the Wise Men confess that I am the most interesting
animal on the whole Mammal tree (except man himself),
and that they really know very little about me. The
Indian, who knows all our ways, holds us more highly,
weaving many stories about us, welcoming us as pets in
the lodges, and loving us as House People love their
dogs.

" 'Now you know how I look. I will tell you how
and where I live, beginning with the springtime, in
May, when every industrious pair of Beavers who own
a home burrow and a woodpile, have, maybe two, or
maybe half a dozen little Beavers in their house. As
you know, we live about ponds and watercourses, and
our summer homes are made in- this fashion : Finding a
good bank of clay or loam, by a favorite stream, we look
for a place where the soil is braced by tree roots. Then
we dive and begin a burrow under the water, going up
into the bank, cutting through roots, and rolling out
stones, until we have made two chambers, — an outer one
for food, and an inner one above the water level for a
living room, with a place for air to come in at the top
among the tree roots.. You may wonder why our door-
way is always under water. It is so that we may swim
out and not rise to the surface near our home, showing
enemies where we live. Does not the Ovenbird slip
from her nest, and, running through the underbrush,
make her flight at a distance, for the same reason ?

" ; A few weeks after our young are born they begin
to gnaw soft bark, and then they soon join us in our
wood-cutting excursions. The trees we love best for
food are those with juicy bark, like the yellow birch,
cotton- wood, poplar, and willow. If we are very hungry,

124 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

we can eat walnut, ash, and the harder maples ; but we
do not relish them, and we sometimes use lily roots and
grass for salad. It would be wasteful merely to gnaw
the bark around the trunks of trees, besides this is not
as tender as the bark covering the branches ; so, as we
may not climb, nothing is left us but to fell the trees.
Then we select a tree a foot or more in thickness, and
begin our cutting from each side, upward and down-
ward, our teeth making short, chisel-like grooves, hew-
ing out wide chips. When the tree falls we run, arid,
diving, swim to our burrows lest some enemy should
hear the noise and catch us at our work.

" 4 When all is quiet, we come out again, and like
good craftsmen begin to chop our wood in lengths to
carry home. We cut our fagots, measuring by their
weight instead of length, so that a thick limb will be
chopped in strips a foot in length, a thinner one two
feet long, and so on, for we know how much a Beaver
may carry easily. The wood is then taken to the store-
house of the burrow. The thick pieces we roll along
down the bank perhaps, holding them between paws
and chin in swimming, which we do easily, using our
tails as rudders to guide us with our load. The smaller
twigs we hold in our mouths, the ends trailing over our
shoulders to the ground. If any logs are hard to move,
we often use our tails as levers to pry them along, and
our tails also help us to lift up in our arms the great
stones, which we often have to move in building.

" 4 When the right trees are near our water homes,
all goes well, but sometimes the near woods are all
eaten or otherwise destroyed. The water from the
ponds often runs back and floods the lowlands where

THE BEAVER'S STORY 125

we have cut down all the trees, making it so wet that
no more trees will grow; and rich, tall grass springs up,
covering the decayed stumps. House People call these
places Beaver Meadows. We do not like the wood of
evergreens, and so often we have to search far away
from water for our food, and after the trees are cut,
they must be carried a weary distance home. We have
two ways of doing this : one is to make a straight path-
way by felling everything that would interfere with us ;
the other is to dig a canal between ponds or streams
and, letting in water, float our wood home, as House
People float their logs from lumber camps to sawmills.

" ' Having made our canal, three feet wide and as
many deep, we must arrange to keep the water deep
enough for our work. Deep water is a " must be " in
the Beaver world, whether in canals or in the ponds
and rivers. The water must be high enough to cover
the doorway of the burrows.

" ' Next comes our work as engineers, for we have to
build dams to keep the water back and make it stand
at the exact depth we wish.

" ; House People have all seen the dams that keep
the water in their mill ponds ; but we build longer,
better ones than theirs, sometimes perhaps they may be
only a few feet in length, but at others many hundred.
Often we begin by interlacing growing bushes with
sticks, filling the gaps with stones and mud on the water
side, then adding sticks from time to time below, until
we have made our barrier strong enough. At other
times we build over fallen trees, and raise a dam from
them of almost solid mud, strengthened with tree boughs.
We are never wasteful, and seldom use fresh wood for

126 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

this work, but save the sticks from which the bark has
all been gnawed for all our building. Another thing
we do, — we curve our dams up stream. Do you know
why? If you were trying to push something, or some
one back, would you stand straight up, or would you
bend forward to meet the strain, and thus gain added
strength? You would bend, of course, and so we bend
our dams to push the waters back. We may be stupid
and clumsy and ranked with Rabbits and Rats; our eyes
and brains may be small, but you must see by this that
we are rather clever at thinking.

" ' All summer we feed and work and play, making and
repairing dams and felling our wood by night, but some-
times stopping to be idle, and rolling and basking in the
sunlight. We are ever on the watch, however, even in
play time, our keen ears catching the faintest sound of
warning, and our alarm signal is far reaching. Our
sentry has but to dive, bringing his flat tail with a
quick, sharp blow upon the water, and the noise is
echoed far and wide. Spat ! spat ! spat ! go the tails
of all the Beavers in the region as they disappear.
Even when we lie sunning ourselves, we are on the
alert, for it is Beaver law that when at rest every pair
must lie facing each other so that, one looking each
way, nothing may steal up unawares, and if we are
suspicious even, we rise up on our haunches and listen
to catch every breath.

"'In September the serious task of cutting winter
wood begins. We do not sleep the winter sleep, so
we need food in plenty and better shelter than our
bank burrows, for we live in places where ice and snow
have a long season. Once in the far back, perhaps, tho

THE BKAVKR"S STORY 127

climate was not so cold, but the Wise Men say that we
American Beavers have been building dams and winter
lodges for thousands of years, and they can prove their
words by digging and showing you our ancient earth-
works. How we came to need our island lodges is a
legend in our family, but one that Heart of Nature will
not yet let us tell, lest no one should believe it.

"'Each Beaver family has ics own lodge, for though
we are sociable we do not approve of hotel life, and at
most, several families may have lodges in the same
pond. We Beavers know the places where warm
springs, deep from the earth, feed the ponds, and near
these spots we make our buildings. Starting from some
sunken island, we begin our heap of sticks, building a
thick mud and wicker wall and arching poles to support
the roof of a living room, which is some half dozen feet
across and well above the water line. This lodge has
two entrances below water, — one for the family and
one for food wood.

"'Before ice and snow stop our tree-cutting excur-
sions, every Beaver household moves into its lodge and
has a sunken woodpile close at hand, from which the
daily provisions can be taken by swimming under the
ice. We Beavers can swim a half mile under water
without rising through the breathing holes. You may
wonder why, in the cold countries where we live, the
ponds and rivers do not freeze to the bottom, or sudden
thaws drown us out. In the first place, we make our
dams the right height to give us the exact depth of
water we need, and nature guides us where to build near
the warm spring holes that keep the ice thin, and the
heavy snows also helping us by shutting out the cold.

128 STORIES OF ninns AND BEASTS

Then, if we see a freshet coming, we make a gap in the
dam to let the water off, or if it rises too quickly, as
sometimes in early spring, we swim for refuge to our
summer bank burrows. Sometimes our woodpile grows
water-soaked and sour, and we are glad when a thaw
lets us cut down a fresh supply ; but usually our win-
ter life is happy and comfortable, for here in this spot
no trappers may come to harry us from our homes.

" 4 Our children stay with us until they are two years
old, so each lodge harbors, besides the parents, the eight
or ten children of two seasons. We are affectionate
among ourselves, but are bound to keep Beaver law,
which says that the young of every lodge, when fully
grown, shall go out, find mates, and build lodges for
themselves. Also, that they shall always go further
down stream than their old homes. Down stream
means the building of new dams and extra labor, which
is most suitable for those with strong young teeth.
The older Beavers, when they need new lodges, may
go up stream to easy quarters ; for as a Beaver grows
old, and toward the end of his fifteen years of life, his
teeth are dulled, and he cannot cut wood so easily for
house and dam building. Beaver law despises laziness
and says no Beaver shall steal from another Beaver's
woodpile, and the penalty for such a theft is death !
The Indians know these laws and how well we keep
them. Often in a long cold winter, when all our bark
is eaten, we gnaw up the hard wood itself for food, or
pinch and starve rather than break the law.

" 4 Each pair of Beavers are rulers in their lodge,
building and repairing their own dams unaided except
by members of their families ; for sociable as we are, we

THE BEAVElf* STORY 129

neither live nor work in colonies. If our young do not
choose mates the first season that they leave us, they
may come home that winter, but not again. Afterwards
they must join the wanderers and those Beavers who,
having lost their mates, refuse to take another. Thus our
lives go on, — hewing, storing, planning, building, and
repairing, unless trappers break up our peaceful homes.

" ; I who tell this story live on Lost Creek, which runs
through protected land, where no trap may take me, and
I am fat, happy, and content. I have a mate who is a
clever tree chopper, and we are now building, raising
our dam a foot or so, and mending places where our mis-
chievous cousins the Musk rats have poked holes ; some-
times they even try to share our lodges with us, like the
impudent rats they are. We must deepen the water
around a new lodge that we shall finish to-morrow ; its
roof poles are of poplars from the nearby bank, the sides
are braced by willow and poplar basketwork, and I have
beaten the mud covering hard and smooth with my flat
tail. Our lodge has a broad entrance for wood also, where
the cuttings will not stick when carried in, and a large
dry room for my family of nine young and half-grown
Beavers who helped me with the work, thus learning
how to hew and build the lodges some of them will have
to make for themselves next season.

" 4 Yet in spite of all this work of mine, the Wise Men
say, and think they prove it by my body, that I am but
a slow, lowly Mammal, no huntsman, and a cousin of
Rabbits and Rats, with a small smooth brain that has no
business to think and plan. I prove by my own works
that I have both thought and judgment, and I wish that
you could visit me and see my work yourself.

130 STORIES OF BIRDS AND BEASTS

" 4 Hist ! the alarm beat comes down river ! Beaver
law says dive and strike water with your tail in going ;
so travels the signal through the moonlight. I hear a
crashing in the brushwood — now my turn comes ! A
good evening to you ! ' (The Beaver dives.)

" Splash ! not a Beaver within sight. The September
moon shows heaps of sticks and black water, while a
restless Moose, seeking its mate, wades along the pond
edge drinking and snatching mouthfuls of water-lily
stems that will be soon cut down by the frost, then
bellows a joyful answer to a faint call from far up the

THE STANDARD SCHOOL LIBRARY.

(Each Volume, cloth, 50 cents. Sold singly or in sets.)

BAILEY. LESSONS WITH PLANTS. Suggestions for Seeing and
Interpreting Some of the Common Forms of Vegetation. By
L. H. Bailey. 12mo. Illustrated, xxxi + 491 pages.

This volume is the outgrowth of "observation lessons." The
book is based upon the idea that the proper way to begin the study
of plants is by means of plants instead of formal ideals or defini-
tions. Instead of a definition as a model telling what is to be
seen, the plant shows what there is to be seen, and the definition
follows.

BARNES. YANKEE SHIPS AND YANKEE SAILORS. Tales of
1812. By James Barnes. 12mo. Illustrated, xiii + 281
pages.

Fourteen spirited tales of the gallant defenders of the Chesa-
peake, the Wasp, the Vixen, Old Ironsides, and other heroes of
the Naval War of 1812.

BELLAMY. THE WONDER CHILDREN. By Charles J.
Bellamy. 12mo. Illustrated.

Nine old-fashioned fairy stories in a modern setting.

BLACK. THE PRACTICE OF SELF-CULTURE. By Hugh
Black. 12mo. vii + 262 pages.

Nine essays on culture considered in its broadest sense. The
title is justified not so much from the point of view of giving
many details for self-culture, as of giving an impulse to practice.

BONSAL. THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. Extracts from the let-
ters of Captain H. L. Herndon of the 21st U. S. Infantry, on
duty in the Philippine Islands, and Lieutenant Lawrence
Gill, A.D.C. to the Military Governor of Puerto Rico. With
a postscript by J. Sherman, Private, Co. D, 21st Infantry.
Edited by Stephen Bonsai. 12mo. xi + 316 pages.

These letters throw much light on our recent history. The
story of our "Expansion" is well told, and the problems
which are its outgrowth are treated with clearness and insight.

1

BUCK. BOYS' SELF-GOVERNING CLUBS. By Winifred Buck.
16mo. x + 218 pages.

The history of self-governing clubs, with directions for their
organization and management. The author has had many years'
experience as organizer and adviser of self-governing clubs in New
York City and the vicinity.

CARROLL. ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND. By

Lewis Carroll. 12mo. Illustrated, xiv + 192 pages.

CARROLL. THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS AND WHAT
ALICE FOUND THERE. By Lewis Carroll. 12mo. Illus-
trated, xv + 224 pages.

The authorized edition of these children's classics. They have
recently been reprinted from new type and new cuts made from
the original wood blocks.

CHURCH. THE STORY OF THE ILIAD. By Rev. A. J. Church,
vii 4- 314 pages.

CHURCH. THE STORY OF THE ODYSSEY. By Rev. A. J.

Church, vii + 306 pages.

The two great epics are retold in prose by one of the best of
story-tellers. The Greek atmosphere is remarkably well preserved.

CRADDOCK. THE STORY OF OLD FORT LOUDON. By

Charles Egbert Craddock. 12mo, Illustrated. v + 409 pages.

A story of pioneer life in Tennessee at the time of the Cherokee
uprising in 1760. The frontier fort serves as a background to this
picture of Indian craft and guile and pioneer pleasures and hard-
ships.

CROCKETT. RED CAP TALES. By S. R. Crockett. 8vo.
Illustrated, xii + 413 pages.

The volume consists of a number of tales told in succession
from four of Scott's novels — "Waverley," "Guy Mannering,"
" Rob Roy," and "The Antiquary"; with a break here and there
while the children to whom they are told discuss the story just
told from their own point of view. No better introduction to
Scott's novels could be imagined or contrived. Half a dozen or
more tales are given from each book.

3

DIX. A LITTLE CAPTIVE LAD. By Beulah Marie Dix. 12mo.
Illustrated, vii + 286 pages.

The story is laid in the time of Cromwell, and the captive lad
is a cavalier, full of the pride of his caste. The plot develops
around the child's relations to his Puritan relatives. It is a well-
told story, with plenty of action, and is a faithful picture of the

times.

EGGLESTON. SOUTHERN SOLDIER STORIES. By George
Gary Eggleston. 12mo. Illustrated. xi + 251 pages.

Forty-seven stories illustrating the heroism of those brave
Americans who fought on the losing side in the Civil War. Humor
and pathos are found side by side in these pages which bear evi-
dence of absolute truth.

ELSON. SIDE LIGHTS ON AMERICAN HISTORY.

This volume takes a contemporary view of the leading events in
the history of the country from the period of the Declaration of
Independence to the close of the Spanish-American War. The
result is a very valuable series of studies in many respects more
interesting and informing than consecutive history.

GAYE. THE GREAT WORLD'S FARM. Some Account of
Nature's Crops and How they are Sown. By Selina Gaye.
12mo. Illustrated, xii + 365 pages.

A readable account of plants and how they live and grow. It
is as free as possible from technicalities and well adapted to
young people.

GREENE. PICKETT'S GAP. By Homer Greene. 12mo. Illus-
trated, vii + 288 pages.

A story of American life and character illustrated in the per-
sonal heroism and manliness of an American boy. It is well told,
and the lessons in morals and character are such as will appeal to
every honest instinct.

HAPGOOD. ABRAHAM LINCOLN. By Norman Hapgood.
12mo. Illustrated, xiii + 433 pages.

This is one of the best one-volume biographies of Lincoln, and a
faithful picture of the strong character of the great President, not
only when he was at the head of the nation, but also as a boy and
a young man, making his way in the world.

HAPGOOD. GEORGE WASHINGTON. By Norman Hapgood
12mo. Illustrated, xi + 419 pages.

Not the semi-mythical Washington of some biographers, but a
clear, comprehensive account of the man as he really appeared in
camp, in the field, in the councils of his country, at home, and in
society.

HOLDEN. REAL THINGS IN NATURE. A Reading Book of
Science for American Boys and Girls. By Edward S. Holden.
Illustrated. 12mo. xxxviii + 443 pages.

The topics are grouped under nine general heads : Astronomy,
Physics, Meteorology, Chemistry, Geology, Zoology, Botany, The
Human Body, and The Early History of Mankind. The various
parts of the volume give the answers to the thousand and one
questions continually arising in the minds of youths at an age
when habits of thought for life are being formed.

HUFFORD. SHAKESPEARE IN TALE AND VERSE. By Lois
Grosvenor Hufford. 12mo. ix + 445 pages.

The purpose of the author is to introduce Shakespeare to such
of his readers as find the intricacies of the plots of the dramas
somewhat difficult to manage. The stories which constitute the
main plots are given, and are interspersed with the dramatic
dialogue in such a manner as to make tale and verse interpret each
other.

HUGHES. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. By Thomas Hughes.
12mo. Illustrated, xxi + 376 pages.

An attractive and convenient edition of this great story of life
at Rugby. It is a book that appeals to boys everywhere and
which makes for manliness and high ideals.

HUTCHINSON. THE STORY OF THE HILLS. A Book about
Mountains for General Readers. By Rev. H. W. Hutchinson.
12mo. Illustrated, xv 4- 357 pages.

"A clear account of the geological formation of mountains and
their various methods of origin in language so clear and untech-
nical that it will not confuse even the most unscientific." —
Boston Evening Transcript.

5

ILLINOIS GIRL. A PRAIRIE WINTER. By an Illinois Girl.
16mo. 164 pages.

A record of the procession of the months from midway in Septem-
ber to midway in May. The observations on Nature are accurate
and sympathetic, and they are interspersed with glimpses of a
charming home life and bits of cheerful philosophy.

INGERSOLL. WILD NEIGHBORS. OUTDOOR STUDIES IN
THE UNITED STATES. By Ernest Ingersoll. 12mo.
Illustrated, xii + 301 pages.

Studies and stories of the gray squirrel, the puma, the coyote,
the badger, and other burrowers, the porcupine, the skunk, the
woodchuck, and the raccoon.

INMAN. THE RANCH ON THE OXHIDE. By Henry Inman.
12mo. Illustrated, xi + 297 pages.

A story of pioneer life in Kansas in the late sixties. Adventures
with wild animals and skirmishes with Indians add interest to the
narrative.

JOHNSON. CERVANTES' DON QUIXOTE. Edited by Clifton
Johnson. 12mo. Illustrated, xxiii + 398 pages.

A well-edited edition of this classic. The one effort has been to
bring the book to readable proportions without excluding any really
essential incident or detail, and at the same time to make the text
unobjectionable and wholesome.

JUDSON. THE GROWTH OF THE AMERICAN NATION. By

Harry Pratt Judson. 12mo. Illustrations and maps.
xi + 359 pages.

The cardinal facts of American History are grasped in such a
way as to show clearly the orderly development of national life.

KEARY. THE HEROES OF ASGARD: TALES FROM SCANDI-
NAVIAN MYTHOLOGY. By A. and E. Keary. 12mo.
Illustrated. 323 pages.

The book is divided into nine chapters, called "The
"How Thor went to Jotunheim," "Frey," "The Wanderings of
Freyja," " Iduna's Apples," "Baldur," "The Binding of Fenrir,"
"The Punishment of Loki," "Ragnarok."

6

KING. DE SOTO AND HIS MEN IN THE LAND OF FLORIDA.

By Grace King. 12mo. Illustrated, xiv + 32G pages.

A story based upon the Spanish and Portuguese accounts of the
attempted conquest by the armada which sailed under De Soto in
1538 to subdue this country. Miss King gives a most entertain-
ing history of the invaders' struggles and of their final demoralized
rout; while her account of the native tribes is a most attractive
feature of the narrative.

KINGSLEY. MAD AM HOW AND LADY WHY: FIRST LESSONS
IN EARTH LORE FOR CHILDREN. By Charles Kingsley.
12mo. Illustrated, xviii + 321 pages.

Madam How and Lady Why are two fairies who teach the how
and why of things in nature. There are chapters on Earthquakes,
Volcanoes, Coral Reefs, Glaciers, etc., told in an interesting man-
ner. The book is intended to lead children to use their eyes and
ears.

KINGSLEY. THE WATER BABIES: A FAIRY TALE FOR A
LAND BABY. By Charles Kingsley. 12mo. Illustrated.
330 pages.

One of the best children's stories ever written; it has deservedly
become a classic.

LANGE. OUR NATIVE BIRDS: HOW TO PROTECT THEM
AND ATTRACT THEM TO OUR HOMES. By D. Lange.
12mo. Illustrated, x + 162 pages.

A strong plea for the protection of birds. Methods and devices
for their encouragement are given, also a bibliography of helpful
literature, and material for Bird Day.

LOVELL. STORIES IN STONE FROM THE ROMAN FORUM.

By Isabel Lovell. 12mo. Illustrated, viii + 258 pages.

The eight stories in this volume give many facts that travelers
wish to know, that historical readers seek, and that young students
enjoy. The book puts the reader in close touch with Roman life.

McFARLAND. GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE TREES.
By J. Horace McFarland. 8vo. Illustrated, xi + 241 pages.

A charmingly written series of tree essays. They are not
scientific but popular, and are the outcome of the author's desire
that others should share the rest and comfort that have come to
him through acquaintance with trees.

MAJOR. THE BEARS OF BLUE RIVER. By Charles Major.
12mo. Illustrated. 277 pages.

A collection of good bear stories with a live boy for the hero
The scene is laid in the early days of Indiana.

MARSHALL. WINIFRED'S JOURNAL. By Emma Marshall.
12mo. Illustrated. 353 pages.

A story of the time of Charles the First. Some of the characters
are historical personages.

MEANS. PALMETTO STORIES. By Celina E. Means. 12mo.
Illustrated, x + 244 pages.

True accounts of some of the men and women who made the
history of South Carolina, and correct pictures of the conditions
under which these men and women labored.

MORRIS. MAN AND HIS ANCESTOR: A STUDY IN EVOLU-
TION. By Charles Morris. 16mo. Illustrated, vii + 238
pages.

A popular presentation of the subject of man's origin. The
various significant facts that have been discovered since Darwin's
time are given, as well as certain lines of evidence never before
presented in this connection.

NEWBOLT. STORIES FROM FROISSART. By Henry Newbolt.

12mo. Illustrated, xxxi + 368 pages.

Here are given entire thirteen episodes from the "Chronicles"
of Sir John Froissart. The text is modernized sufficiently to make
it intelligible to young readers. Separated narratives are dove-
tailed, and new translations have been made where necessary to
make the narrative complete and easily readable.

OVERTON. THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER. By Gwendolen
Overton. 12mo. Illustrated, vii + 270 pages.

A story of girl life at an army post on the frontier. The plot is
an absorbing one, and the interest of the reader is held to the end.

PALGRAVE. THE CHILDREN'S TREASURY OF ENGLISH
SONG. Selected and arranged by Francis Turner Palgrave.
16mo. viii + 302 pages.

This collection contains 168 selections — songs, narratives,
descriptive or reflective pieces of a lyrical quality, all suited to the*
taste and understanding of children.

8

PALMER. STORIES FROM THE CLASSICAL LITERATURE
OF MANY NATIONS. Edited by Bertha Palmer. 12mo.
xv + 297 pages.

A collection of sixty characteristic stories from Chinese, Japa-
nese, Hebrew, Babylonian, Arabian, Hindu, Greek, Roman,
German, Scandinavian, Celtic, Russian, Italian, French, Spanish,
Portuguese, Anglo-Saxon, English, Finnish, and American Indian
sources.

RIIS. CHILDREN OF THE TENEMENTS. By Jacob A. Riis.

12mo. Illustrated, ix -f 387 pages.

Forty sketches and short stories dealing with the lights and
shadows of life in the slums of New York City, told just as they
came to the writer, fresh from the life of the people.

SANDYS TRAPPER JIM. By Edwyn Sandys. 12mo. Illus-
trated, ix + 441 pages.

A book which will delight every normal boy. Jim is a city lad
who learns from an older cousin all the lore of outdoor life —
trapping, shooting, fishing, camping, swimming, and canoeing.
The author is a well-known writer on outdoor subjects.

SEXTON. STORIES OF CALIFORNIA. By Ella M. Sexton.
12mo. Illustrated, x + 211 pages.

Twenty-two stories illustrating the early conditions and the
romantic history of California and the subsequent development
of the state.

SHARP. THE YOUNGEST GIRL IN THE SCHOOL. By Evelyn
Sharp. 12mo. Illustrated, ix + 326 pages.

Bab, the " youngest girl," was only eleven and the pet of five
brothers. Her ups and downs in a strange boarding school make
an interesting story.

SPARKS. THE MEN WHO MADE THE NATION: AN OUTLINE
OF UNITED STATES HISTORY FROM 1776 TO 1861. By

Edwin E. Sparks. 12mo. Illustrated, viii + 415 pages.

The author has chosen to tell our history by selecting the one
man at various periods of our affairs who was master of the situ-
ation and about whom events naturally grouped themselves.
The characters thus selected number twelve, as "Samuel Adams,
the man of the town meeting" ; "Robert Morris, the financier of
the Revolution"; "Hamilton, the advocate of stronger govern-
ment," etc., etc.

THACHER. THE LISTENING CHILD. A selection from the
stories of English verse, made for the youngest readers and
hearers. By Lucy W. Thacher. 12mo. xxx + 408 pages.

Under this title are gathered two hundred and fifty selections.
The arrangement is most intelligent, as shown in the proportions
assigned to different authors and periods. Much prominence is
given to purely imaginative writers. The preliminary essay, "A
Short Talk to Children about Poetry," is full of suggestion.

WALLACE. UNCLE HENRY'S LETTERS TO THE FARM
BOY. By Henry Wallace. 16mo. ix + 180 pages.

Eighteen letters on habits, education, business, recreation, and
kindred subjects.

WEED. LIFE HISTORIES OF AMERICAN INSECTS. By

Clarence Moores Weed. 12mo. Illustrated, xii + 272 pages.

In these pages are described by an enthusiastic student of
entomology such changes as may often be seen in an insect's
form, and which mark the progress of its life. He shows how very
wide a field of interesting facts is within reach of any one who has
the patience to collect these little creatures.

WELLS. THE JINGLE BOOK. By Carolyn Wells. 12mo.
Illustrated, viii +124 pages.

A collection of fifty delightful jingles and nonsense verses. The
illustrations by Oliver Herford do justice to the text.

WILSON. DOMESTIC SCIENCE IN GRAMMAR GRADES. A
Reader. By Lucy L. W. Wilson. 12mo. ix + 193 pages.

Descriptions of homes and household customs of all ages and
countries, studies of materials and industries, glimpses of the
homes of literature, and articles on various household subjects.

WILSON. HISTORY READER FOR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS.
By Lucy L. W. Wilson. 16mo. Illustrated, xvii + 403
pages.

Stories grouped about the greatest men and the most striking
events in our country's history. The readings run by months,
beginning with September.

WILSON. PICTURE STUDY IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. By

Lucy L. W. Wilson. 12mo. Illustrated.

10

Ninety half-cone reproductions from celebrated paintings both
old and modern, accompanied by appropriate readings from the
poets. All schools of art are represented.

WRIGHT. HEART OF NATURE. By Mabel Osgood Wright.
12mo. Illustrated.

This volume comprises "Stories of Plants and Animals,"
"Stories of Earth and Sky," and "Stories of Birds and Beasts,"
usually published in three volumes and known as "The Heart of
Nature Series." It is a delightful combination of story and
nature study, the author's name being a sufficient warrant for its
interest and fidelity to nature.

WRIGHT. FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS AND THEIR KIN. By

Mabel Osgood Wright, edited by Frank Chapman. 12mo.
Illustrated, xv + 432 pages.

An animal book in story form. The scene shifts from farm to
woods, and back to an old room, fitted as a sort of winter camp,
where vivid stories of the birds and beasts which cannot be seen
at home are told by the campfire, — the sailor who has hunted the
sea, the woodman, the mining engineer, and wandering scientist,
each taking his turn. A useful family tree of North American
Mammals is added.

WRIGHT. DOGTOWN. By Mabel Osgood Wright. 12mo.
Illustrated, xiii + 405 pages.

"Dogtown" was a neighborhood so named because so many
people loved and kept dogs. For it is a story of people as well as
of dogs, and several of the people as well as the dogs are old friendsj
having been met in Mrs. Wright's other books.

YONGE. LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE. By Char-
lotte M. Yonge. 12mo. Illustrated, xi + 140 pages.

An interesting and ingenious introduction to geography. In
her dreams Lucy visits the children of various lands and thus
learns much of the habits and customs of these countries.

YONGE. UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. By Charlotte M. Yonge.
12mo. Illustrated, xi + 589 pages.

A story of the captivity of Mary Queen of Scots, told in the
author's best vein.

RETURN TO the circulation desk of any
University of California Library
or to the

NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY
Bldg. 400, Richmond Field Station
University of California
Richmond, CA 94804-4698

ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS
2-month loans may be renewed by calling

(510)642-6753
1-year loans may be recharged by bringing books

to NRLF
Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days

prior to due date

DUE AS STAMPED BELOW

2 3 1993

THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY