Part 2 (1/2)

They laughed at their old men who had feared for so many moons to reproach the Great Spirit for his unfair treatment of the Indians who were compelled to hunt and fish for game for their wives and children, while their own women had to plant the corn and harvest it.

”In the Happy Hunting Grounds,” they said, ”the Great Spirit feeds our brothers and their wives and does not let any foes or dangers come upon them, but here he lets us go hungry many times. If he is as great as you have said, why does he not take care of his children here?”

Then the Great Spirit told them he would turn his smiling face away from them, so that they should have no more light and warmth and they must build fires in the forest if they would see.

But the red men laughed and taunted him, telling him that he had followed one trail so long that he could not get out of it, but would have to come every day and give them light and heat as usual. Then they would dance and make faces at him and taunt him with his helplessness.

In a few days the quick eyes of some of the red men saw in the morning the face of the Great Spirit appear where it was not wont to appear, but they were silent, fearing the jibes of their brothers. Finally, duller eyes noticed the change, and alarm and consternation spread among the people. Each day brought less and less of the Great Spirit's smile and his countenance was often hidden by dark clouds, while terrible storms beat upon the frightened faces turned in appeal toward the heavens. The strong braves and warriors became as women; the old men covered their heads with skins and starved in the forests; while the women in their lodges crooned the low, mournful wail of the death song. Frosts and snows came upon an unsheltered and stricken race, and many of them perished.

Then the Great Spirit, who had almost removed his face from the sight of men, had pity and told them he would come back. Day after day the few that remained alive watched with joy the return of the sun. They sang in praise of the approaching summer and once more hailed with thankfulness the first blades of growing corn as it burst from the ground. The Great Spirit told his children that every year, as a punishment for the insults they had given their Father, they should feel for a season the might of the power they had mocked; and they murmured not, but bowed their heads in meekness.

SNOW SONG

Over valley, over hill, Hark, the shepherd piping shrill, Driving all the white flock forth, From the far folds of the north.

Blow, wind, blow, Weird melodies you play, Following your flocks that go Across the world today.

Hither, thither, up and down, Every highway of the town, Huddling close the white flocks all Gather at the shepherd's call.

Blow, wind, blow, Upon your pipes of joy, All your sheep the flakes of snow And you their shepherd boy.

Frank Dempster Sherman.

THE SNOW MAIDEN

(Russian Legend)

Once upon a time there lived a peasant named Ivan and his wife, Marie.

They were very sad because they had no children. One cold winter day the peasant and his wife sat near a window in their cottage and watched the village children playing in the snow. The little ones were busily at work making a beautiful snow maiden.

Ivan turned to his wife and said, ”What a good time the children are having. See, they are making a beautiful snow maiden. Come, let us go into the garden and amuse ourselves in the same way. We will make a pretty little snow image.”

They went into the garden which lay back of their cottage.

”My husband,” said Marie, ”we have no children, what do you say to our making for ourselves a child of snow?”

”A very good idea!” said the husband. And he at once began to mold the form of a little body, with tiny feet and hands. His wife made a small head and set it upon the shoulders of the snow image.

A man who pa.s.sed by the garden stopped for a moment and looked at the peasants who were so strangely occupied. After a moment's silence he said to them, ”May G.o.d help you.”

”Thank you,” said Ivan.

”G.o.d's blessing, indeed, is always good,” nodded Marie.

”What are you making?” asked the stranger.