HOW THE FIRST
BEARS CAME.
Once upon a time, there were only Indians upon the earth, and the tribes had a Great Spirit who was their ruler. He had a little daughter, the Wind-Child.
It was thought that the Great Spirit and his daughter lived in the largest wigwam of the world. It was a mountain that stood, tall and pointed, on the edge of the sea. The winds raged about the sea coast, and no one seemed to have any power over them except the Wind-Child. They would sometimes obey her, if she came out of her father’s wigwam, the mountain, and begged them to be still.
No wonder the winds obeyed the Wind-Child. Her eyes were as bright as the stars when the west wind blew the clouds away from the sky at night. She was as fleet and strong as the north wind. She could sing as sweetly as did the south wind. And her hair was as long and soft as the mists that the east wind carried.
The Wind-Child had only one fault. She was very curious about matters which did not concern her.
One day, when the winter was almost over, there was a gale at sea. The surf rolled up and beat against the Great Spirit’s mountain. The wind was so strong that the mountain shook. It seemed as if it would topple over. The Great Spirit spoke to his daughter.
“Go out to the lodge of the cave, at the base of the mountain,” he said, “and reach out your arm and ask the wind to cease. But do not go beyond the cave, for the storm rages and it is not safe for you to go any farther.”
So the Wind-Child did as her father had asked her. She stood at the edge of the cave. She stretched out her arm and the wind quieted. Then the Wind-Child forgot to obey her father. The sun came out, and she saw many bright shells lying on the sand. The waves had washed them up during the storm. She left the mountain, and ran along the beach gathering shells.
As soon as the Wind-Child had picked up one shell, she dropped it to go on farther in search of one that was larger. On and on she went, always looking for a shell that was brighter. She suddenly found that she had gone a long way from home. She could not see the wigwam. She found herself, where the magic trail of the shells had led her, in a deep, dark forest. It was a frightful place, and the trees shut the Wind-Child in on all sides.