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The Red Indian Fairy Book by  Frances Jenkins Olcott

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The Red Indian Fairy Book
by Frances Jenkins Olcott
A choice collection of Native American myths and legends carefully selected from many sources. Most are nature stories telling about birds, beasts, flowers, and rocks of our American meadows, prairies, and forests. The tales are arranged according to the seasons with several stories offered for each month of the year. There are some for early spring, when the maple sap mounts, and the arbutus blooms under the snow; for later spring, when the birds nest, and the wild flowers blow; for summer, with its heat, storms, fishing, and canoeing; for autumn with its corn, nuts, and harvest feast; for winter, with its ice, snow, and adventures. A comprehensive subject index for use by teachers and storytellers is included.  Ages 8-12
304 pages $12.95   






[95] IN old, old times, on the highest peak of a great mountain dwelt a hunter and his five sparkling daughters. Their lodge was of bright birch bark, and on clear days they could see the distant sea flashing like a silver band.

"Come out! Come out!" cried the youngest [96] daughter, the little Er. "Come, Su! Come Mi! Come, Hu! Come, Cla! Let us away to the sea where the foaming breakers roar!"

So they left their lodge, and leaped, and sang with happy hearts. Their robes were of blue and chrysolite green, and floated on the breeze. Their moccasins were of frozen water-drops, and their wings of painted wind.

And they scampered and romped across the plain, or floated beneath the sky. They rushed past valley and hill and field, singing and shouting with glee. At last they came to a precipice of jagged rocks and moss.

"Alas!" cried Er, "what a fearful leap! But we have come so far, we must go on; or our father will laugh at us! So come, Su! Come, Hu! Come, Mi! Come, Cla! and follow me."

Over the steep they sprang, and floated down on their painted wings. They leaped and they skipped and they sang, like happy-hearted birds. Then little Er cried, "Let us up and down the steep again!"

So up and down, the five maids skipped and [97] laughed at the sport and foam, and called it Niagara Falls!

And to-day, through the rainbow mist, you may see their robes of blue and chrysolite green, and their painted wings, and their twinkling feet, as the five play in the waterfall.

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 Table of Contents  |  Index  | Previous: Ahneah the Rose Flower  |  Next: How the Hunter Became a Partridge
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