THE FIRST FIRE
IN the old days there was no fire on earth, and the world was a cold and a dreary place, especially at night and in the winter. Think what it would be if we had no hearth at which to warm ourselves, no coals to broil our venison!
One night, in the midst of a thunderstorm, the lightning struck a great hollow sycamore, and it began to burn. When the people saw it, they all wanted to get some fire, but the tree stood in a swamp where there was no firm ground for them to walk on. Many tried and were stuck fast in the bog.
The Raven easily flew across and got so close to the blaze that his feathers were burnt black, and black they have been to this day, but he brought back no fire. Then the Screech Owl tried, and he flew to the top of the burning tree from which he looked down on the hot coals, and got the red eyes that he has had ever since. The large Hooting Owl followed his brother, and the smoke gave him those white rings around his eyes that you have all noticed. The Black Snake said he would try, and he wriggled into a small hole at the foot of the tree, but he was immediately burnt black, and was scorched so badly into the bargain that he has done nothing but twist and squirm to this day. Not one of them brought back any fire.
At last the little Water Spider wove a silken basket which he placed on his back, and then he spun a fine silken thread for a bridge and ran across on it. He reached the tree safely, put a tiny live coal in the basket, and brought it back to the waiting tribes of earth.
ICE MAN PUTS OUT THE FIRE
Once upon a time there was a forest fire, and the fire went deep down to the roots of a poplar tree, and there it smoldered for a long time. The people tried to put it out, but they could do nothing. By and by they grew frightened, fearing lest it might burn down to the middle of the earth, or spread over all the world. So they sent a messenger to the far north, to beg the Ice Man to help them.
Now the Ice Man is a little fellow, with two heavy braids of black hair hanging over his shoulders. After he had heard all about the fire, he nodded, and loosening one braid he breathed upon the strands. Instantly the wind began to blow. He shook out the hair again, and it began to rain. When he undid the other braid, it hailed violently, and the fourth time he blew upon his hair, the storm became so terrific that the messenger hastened homeward.
When he got home, he saw the fire at the roots of the poplar was still burning, and the pit looked deeper and wider than ever. Many people were standing sadly about it, and as they stood there the wind began to blow. Soon a cold rain fell hissing on the hot coals. Then large hailstones were mixed with the rain, and before long the tempest grew so fierce that they were forced to run for shelter. When it stopped at last, they came out again to look, and the pit of fire was nothing but black coals covered with lumps of ice.