As she sings, she springs toward the baby and down goes the little head. How the papoose laughs and crows! Again Nokomis sings:
"Who is this, eyelight bringing,
To the roof of my lodge?
It is I, hither swinging—
Dodge, baby, dodge."
Over and over the lullaby is sung, now softer and now slower. The eyelids droop, and the little one is quiet.
NOKOMIS TELLS A STORY
Good Bird had prepared the evening meal, but no one came to eat it. Her husband, Fleet Deer, was late in returning from the hunt, and her little son was still shouting and running with his boy playmates.
The tired baby slept, and the two women sat outside the wigwam in the warm June evening.
"Now that I have a little daughter, I must learn all your stories, Nokomis," said Good Bird. "Suppose you tell one while we wait."
"I heard a new one last moon," answered Nokomis. "Our village story-teller has traveled far from our camp. He visited another tribe and heard all their stories. I will tell you the tale he told about the first strawberries: