“THE BIRDS AND BLOSSOMS SPEAK TO ME”
One day his mother came to him and said, “My son, the first plum blossom is seen upon the trees. The sun is warm. Will you not go out of doors to see it?”
“The plum blossom spirit whispered me of its coming,” he said. “I will go and see.”
Then he crept slowly from the little thatched hut and, resting at the door, he saw the plum blossom and smelled its delicious fragrance. He smiled a little and then a queer look came into his eyes. He held his chin in the palm of his hand and sat quietly nodding his head once or twice as if saying, “Yes.”
At last his mother could bear no longer to be without his thoughts. She feared to lose him, and she felt jealous of everything that came near to him. “Tell me what you think, little son,” she said.
“I will tell you,” the boy answered. “Oftentimes a boy and girl come to play with me. They are Spirit Children and we play many things. To-day they have told me why I am ill. It is this. My grandfather had a fine axe. With it he made many things, a tray, and a pestle to pound millet, and others. But my father threw away the axe, forgetting how well it had served. Now it lies rusting, and the spirit of the axe is angry. Because the spirit of the axe is angry, it has made me ill. So, if you do not wish me to die, you must tell my father to seek the axe and do honor to its spirit.”
“It shall be as you say, my son,” said his mother, and she sought his father and told him all. Then he found the axe, and polished it carefully until it shone. He made for it a new handle of ironwood, and carved it with care. And to it he set up a worship stick. This stick was tall, and its feathers curled and waved in the breeze.
Then the spirit of the axe was happy, and the boy was made well, so that joy fell upon the soul of his mother.
And when he grew to be a man, he became a great augur, for the spirits of things came often to him and told him much that was concealed from other beings. For the spirits of things were his friends.