Hand in hand, the two little Indian boys ran into the wood. They found only a heap of rotting sticks.
Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow stood and looked at the sticks. They thought and thought.
"What did we set up the sticks for?" each asked of the other.
And for the life of them they could not remember what they had quarreled about, and why they had set up the sticks!
HOW MICE OVERCAME THE WARRIORS
Once a tribe of the Iroquois became very warlike and cruel. They liked to follow the warpath rather than the hunting trails.
These warriors thought only of the war dance. They forgot to give thanks for the sweet waters of the maple, and for the planting season. Neither did they remember to praise the Great Spirit, in song and dance, for the juicy strawberries, and the waving green corn, as once they had done.
To fight was the one desire of their lives, the one thought that filled their minds. They boasted that none were so fierce and bloodthirsty as they.
"Our arrows fall like leaves of the pine," they said, "and always are they red with blood. Our war shirts have many scalp locks on them."