"Indian Stories Retold From St. Nicholas" by Various. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
Оглавление
Various. Indian Stories Retold From St. Nicholas
Indian Stories Retold From St. Nicholas
Table of Contents
INDIAN STORIES
INDIAN LULLABY
INDIAN STORIES
ONATOGA'S SACRIFICE
WAUKEWA'S EAGLE
A FOURTH OF JULY AMONG THE INDIANS
A BOY'S VISIT TO CHIEF JOSEPH
LITTLE MOCCASIN'S RIDE ON THE THUNDER-HORSE
THE LITTLE FIRST MAN AND THE LITTLE FIRST WOMAN
FUN AMONG THE RED BOYS
THE CHILDREN OF ZUÑI
THE INDIAN GIRL AND HER MESSENGER-BIRD
HOW THE STONE-AGE CHILDREN PLAYED
GAMES AND SPORTS OF THE INDIAN BOY
AN OLD-TIME THANKSGIVING
SOME INDIAN DOLLS
THE WALKING PURCHASE
THE FIRST AMERICANS
Отрывок из книги
Various
Published by Good Press, 2021
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The riffles were full of salmon, big, lusty fellows, who glided about the canoe on every side in an endless silver stream. Waukewa plunged his spear right and left, and tossed one glittering victim after another into the bark canoe. So absorbed in the sport was he that for once he did not notice when the head of the rapids was reached and the canoe began to glide more swiftly among the rocks. But suddenly he looked up, caught his paddle, and dipped it wildly in the swirling water. The canoe swung sidewise, shivered, held its own against the torrent, and then slowly, inch by inch, began to creep upstream toward the shore. But suddenly there was a loud, cruel snap, and the paddle parted in the boy's hands, broken just above the blade! Waukewa gave a cry of despairing agony. Then he bent to the gunwale of his canoe and with the shattered blade fought desperately against the current. But it was useless. The racing torrent swept him downward; the hungry falls roared tauntingly in his ears.
Then the Indian boy knelt calmly upright in the canoe, facing the mist of the falls, and folded his arms. His young face was stern and lofty. He had lived like a brave hitherto—now he would die like one.
