Читать книгу The Indian Fairy Book - Henry Rowe Schoolcraft - Страница 7

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The boy came home unsuccessful. Then his sister told him that he must not despair, but try again the next day.

She accordingly left him again at the gathering-place of the wood and returned to the lodge. Toward nightfall she heard his little footsteps crackling through the snow, and he hurried in and threw down, with an air of triumph, one of the birds which he had killed.

"My sister," said he, "I wish you to skin it and stretch the skin, and when I have killed more, I will have a coat made out of the skins."

"But what shall we do with the body?" said she; for they had always up to that time lived upon greens and berries.

"Cut it in two," he answered, "and season our pottage with one half of it at a time."

It was their first dish of game, and they relished it greatly.

The boy kept on in his efforts, and in the course of time he killed ten birds-out of the skins of which his sister made him a little coat. Being very small, he had a very pretty coat, and a bird-skin to spare.

"Sister," said he one day, as he paraded up and down before the lodge, enjoying his new coat and fancying himself the greatest little fellow in the world—as he was, for there was no other besides him—"My sister, are we really alone in the world, or are we playing at it? Is there nobody else living? And tell me, was all this great broad earth and this huge big sky made for a little boy and girl like you and me?"

"Ah, no," answered the sister, "there are many others, but not harmless as you and I are. They live in a certain other quarter of the earth, and if we would not endanger our lives we must keep away from there. They have killed off all our kinsfolk and will kill us, too, if we go near where they are."

To this the boy was silent; but his sister's words only served to inflame his curiosity the more, and soon after he took his how and arrows and went in the forbidden direction.

After walking a long time and meeting no one, he became tired and stretched himself upon a high green knoll where the day's warmth had melted off the snow. It was a charming place to lie, and he soon fell asleep. While he slept, the sun heat upon him. It not only singed his bird-skin coat, but so shrivelled and shrunk and tightened it on the little boy's body as to wake him up. And then when he felt how the sun had seared the coat he was so proud of, and saw the mischief its fiery beams had played, he flew into a great passion. He vowed fearful things, and berated the sun in a terrible way for a little boy no higher than a man's knee.

"Do not think you are too high," said he; "I shall revenge myself. Oh, sun! I will have you for a plaything yet."

On coming home he gave an account of his misfortune to his sister, and bitterly bewailed the spoiling of his new coat. He would not eat—not so much as a single berry. He lay down as one that fasts; nor did he move or change his manner of lying for ten full days, though his sister strove to prevail on him to rise. At the end of ten days he turned over, and then he lay full ten days on the other side.

When he got up he was very pale, but very resolute too. He bade his sister make a snare.

"For," said he, "I mean to catch the sun."

"I have nothing strong to make a snare of," objected the sister. But on his insisting, she brought forward a deer's sinew which their father had left, and soon made it into a string suitable for a noose. But the brother was not pleased with it; he told her that it would not do and directed her to find something else. She said she had nothing—nothing at all; but at last she thought of the bird-skin that was left over when the coat was made, and she wrought this into a string. And now the little boy was more vexed than before.

"The sun has had enough of my bird-skins," he said; "find something else."

She went out of the lodge, saying to herself, "Was there ever so obstinate a boy?" She did not dare to answer this time that she had nothing. Then luckily she thought of her own beautiful hair, and pulling some of it from among her locks, she quickly braided it into a cord, and, returning, handed it to her brother. The moment his eye fell upon the jet black braid he was delighted.

"This will do," he said, and he immediately began to run it back and forth through his hands as swiftly as he could; and as he drew it forth, he tried its strength. He said again, "This will do," and winding it in a glossy coil about his shoulders, he set out a little after midnight.

His object was to catch the sun before it rose. He fixed his snare firmly on a spot just where the sun must strike the land as it rose above the earth; and sure enough, he caught the sun, so that it was held fast in the cord and did not rise.

The animals who ruled the earth were immediately put into great commotion. They had no light; and they ran to and fro, calling out to one another and inquiring what had happened. They summoned a council to debate upon the matter, and an old dormouse, suspecting where the trouble lay, proposed that some one should be appointed to go and cut the cord. This was a bold thing to undertake, as the rays of the sun could not fail to burn whoever should venture so near to them.

At last the venerable dormouse himself undertook it, for the very good reason that no one else would. But all were glad to accept his offer, so he hastened to the spot where the sun lay ensnared.

Now at this time the dormouse was the largest animal in the world. When he stood up he looked like a mountain, and when he walked the earth trembled. His courage was great in proportion, but as he came nearer and nearer to the sun his back began to smoke and burn with the heat, and soon the whole top of his huge bulk was turned to enormous heaps of ashes. He succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with his teeth, and the sun, free, as round and beautiful as ever, rolled up again into the wide blue sky. But the dormouse—or blind woman as it is called—was shrunk away to a very small size; and that is the reason why it is now one of the tiniest creatures upon the earth.

The little boy returned home when he discovered that the sun had escaped his snare, and devoted himself entirely to hunting.

"If the beautiful hair of my sister would not hold the sun fast, nothing in the world could," he said. "I was not born, a little fellow like myself, to look after the sun. It requires one greater and wiser than I to regulate that."

So he went out and shot ten more snow-birds; for in this business he was very expert; and he had a new bird-skin coat made, which was prettier than the one he had worn before.

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