The Magic Speech Flower Part 3

V. LITTLE LUKE MAKES FRIENDS AMONG THE WILD FOLK

While little Luke spent a good deal of his time with the Bob Lincoln family, he did not neglect his other friends among the wild folk. Almost every day he had long talks with one or more of them. Thus it came to pa.s.s that he soon became exceeding wise with the wisdom of the wild kindreds; for his eyes were sharper and his ears keener than those of any other of the house people.

There was Sam, the hired man, who thought he knew a good deal about the wild folk. And there was Old Bill, the hunter, who had done little besides hunting and trapping all his long life; even these did not begin to know the beasts and birds as little Luke knew them. Before the Finding of the Magic Flower, he had thought them marvels of woodcraft and fieldcraft. Now they seemed to him almost blind and deaf.

As he went about with them, he found that for all their boasting (and they often boasted) they really knew little about the wild folk. Many times they would pa.s.s Wa-poose the Rabbit sitting unseen on his form within a few feet of them. Mother Mit-chee the Ruffled Partridge made her nest in plain sight on the ground beside the old trail and they pa.s.sed by a hundred times and never saw her. And so it was with many others of the wild folk. Often they went quietly about their business before the very eyes of the house people who did not see them.

During that summer little Luke spent much time with Old John the lone Indian, who lived at the foot of Black Mountain. For Old John, seeing the little boy's love of woodcraft and his wonderful keenness of ear and eye, and understanding, came to love him more than he had loved anyone or anything for many years.

He would make some excuse to come to the farmhouse. Then, when his pretended business was finished, he would sit with the little boy on an old bench on the lawn and tell him stories of the Red Men or of the wild folk.

Sometimes, too, the little boy would go up the trail and sit by the spring where he had found the Magic Speech Flower and wait for the old Indian. Or, when Old John started for home, he would go along with him up into the woods and there they would sit on a fallen log and talk of the old days when the Red Men dwelt in that land, or of the wood folk they saw and heard about them. These were most enchanting tales, and little Luke enjoyed them exceedingly.

And he learned that in some matters Old John was very wise. But these were mostly concerned with hunting and trapping. Little Luke did not like the idea of killing any of his wild friends, even though he knew that their flesh and fur were very useful. He knew, too, that the Law of the Wild Kindred allowed everyone to kill to supply his need and so he did not much mind the killing in Old John's stories, for he knew that the old man never killed any creature needlessly.

And he learned, too, that the old Indian had some strange notions about the wild folk. He believed that long ago they had all been very much like men. "In those days," he said, "the animals could talk and build wigwams just as the Red Men did." He believed, too, that the forefathers of some tribes of the Red Men had been animals, and that the forefathers of some of the animal kindreds had been men. All this seemed queer to the boy, but not half so queer as it would have seemed before the Finding of the Magic Speech Flower and his talks with the wild folk.

Now the tale of the Finding of the Magic Flower was told abroad among all the tribes of the wild folk round about. For this reason, as time went on, many of them came to see the wonderful Man Cub (as they often called little Luke) who could speak and understand the language of the wild kindreds.

In that way little Luke came to know many of the wild folk that he had never seen before. Some of them were furry folk, who lived in the woods and fields and along the brooks, and some were beautiful feathered folk, who came down from the tops of the tall pines and spruces and hemlocks.

These were mostly bird folk who had once lived in the Summer Land and had learned to travel southward before the return of Pe-boan the cruel Winter King. They loved the upper s.p.a.ces of the great forests, and there they lived as some of the water folk live in the lower depths of the great sea.

These bird folk hated the open fields and even the lower air, in the thick forests, seemed heavy and unpleasant to them. So they seldom came down from their airy homes in the upper branches of the great trees. For this reason little Luke did not see much of them, but when he did see one of them, it was as if he had seen an angel.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

VI. LITTLE LUKE AND KIT-CHEE THE GREAT CRESTED FLYCATCHER

Down in the far corner of the orchard stood an old apple tree. Some of its limbs were dead and the rest of it was so covered with orchard moss that it seemed gray with age. As little Luke was pa.s.sing one day, he noticed a round hole in one of its branches. "Now," thought he to himself, "I'll climb up and take a peep into that hole." And so he did.

As he looked into the dark cavity, there was a sudden explosion, which sounded like the noise made by an angry cat. The little boy jumped back so quickly that he almost fell to the ground. Just then he heard someone in the branches of the tree above him. "Whee-ree, whee-ree," sounded a mocking; voice, that made little Luke think that somebody was making fun of him. He looked up and saw Kit-chee the Great Crested Flycatcher.

"Ah-ha!" said Kit-chee; "so she scared you, did she?"

The little boy moved his hand toward the hole.

"Better not; better not," said Kit-chee; "that's Mother Kit-chee in there. She doesn't like to be disturbed, and she has a temper of her own, and a sharp bill to go with it."

"Excuse me, Father Kit-chee," said the little boy; "I didn't know. I only wanted to see what was in that hole."

"All right," said Kit-chee. "We don't mind you. Perhaps, if you ask her politely, she'll come out and let you take a peep."

"Pray, Mother Kit-chee," said the little boy, "aren't you hungry? There are some nice flies and bugs out here, and besides, if you will be kind enough to allow me, I should like a peep at your nest and eggs."

"Oh, very well," answered Mother Kit-chee, "I'll do anything to oblige you, when you speak in that way." And out she came.

Both Father Kit-chee and Mother Kit-chee were rather handsome, dignified birds. They each wore a coat of b.u.t.ternut brown, mixed with olive green, and a vest pearl gray toward the throat and yellow lower down.

"Thank you," said the little boy to Mother Kit-chee as she came out, "I'll not disturb anything. I'll be very careful." And so he was. He looked down into the hole, where he saw five creamy-white eggs, streaked lengthwise with brown. But the queerest thing he saw was a snake-skin which formed part of the nest.

"There's the skin of a snake," exclaimed the little boy. "How did that come there? Did the snake try to steal your eggs, and did you kill him?"

"Oh, no," replied Father Kit-chee, "I found that skin over yonder in the pasture. You know that A-tos-sa the Snake sheds his skin when it grows old and stiff, and grows a new one that fits him better. We just pick up the cast-off skins and build them into our nests."

"What on earth do you do it for?" asked the little boy. "I wouldn't want such a thing around my bed. I don't like snakes, or even their skins."

"I don't like snakes either," said Kit-chee, "but it's a custom in our family to use their skins in nest-building. Wherever you find a home of one of our tribe, there you will find a snake-skin. I've heard my grandfather say that our kinfolk, who dwell far to the south beyond the big seawater, have the same custom. There's a tradition about it, too."

"Oh, please tell me about it," said the little boy. "I'm sure it will be an interesting story."

"Very well; anything to please you," said Kit-chee.

VII. WHY THE KIT-CHEE PEOPLE ALWAYS USE SNAKE-SKINS IN NEST-BUILDING

"Long, long ago," began he, "when the world was new, all the beasts and birds were at peace with each other. In those days it was summer all the year round. After a while a change came."

"Oh, yes, I've heard about that," said the little boy. "Pe-boan the cruel Winter King came down from the frozen North and drove off Ni-pon the Queen of Summer. Then the animals and birds got hungry and began to kill each other. I've heard about that several times."

"Yes," said Kit-chee, "that was the way it was. The animals and birds began to kill and rob each other. No nest was safe. Mee-ko the Red Squirrel, A-tos-sa the Snake, Ka-ka-go the Crow, and many others learned to rob our nests and eat our young ones.

"Every one of the birds tried to hide her nest, but in spite of the best that they could do, the robbers would often find them. The worst of all our enemies was Kag-ax the Weasel. The Kit-chee families suffered terribly. They built their nests as we do now in holes in trees. Kag-ax is a good climber and has sharp eyes. It was almost impossible to hide a nest from him.

"After a while things got so bad that the Kit-chee family came together in a council. They talked over their troubles and made up their minds to go to the Master of Life and ask him to help them. And so they did.

"'I am sorry for you,' said he, when he had heard their story, 'and will tell you what to do. As you say, your worst enemy is Kag-ax the Weasel.

Now Kag-ax is more afraid of A-tos-sa the Snake than of any other creature in the whole world. He cannot bear even the sight of a snake-skin. You must weave a snake-skin into each one of your nests.

Then he will not dare to trouble you.'

"'But how shall we get the snake-skins?' asked Grandfather Kit-chee, the head of the family.

"'That is easy,' answered the Master of Life. 'A-tos-sa, as you know, sheds his skin. If you look sharp, you can find the cast-off skins almost anywhere. Do as I have said, and you will be safe. Even Mee-ko the Squirrel and others of your enemies will be afraid of the snake-skin and let your nests alone.'

"The Kit-chee family did as the Master of Life told them to do. From that time to this they always have woven a snake-skin into their nests, and their nests have seldom been robbed."

"Thank you," said the little boy, "that was a good story. Now I must be going home. There's Aunt Martha calling for dinner." And he slid down out of the old apple tree and went across the orchard to the house.