"Well," said Mother Mit-chee, "I must take these babies of mine down to the spring and teach them how to drink. They have never tasted water yet."
"Kreet, kreet, come along, come along," called Mother Mit-chee.
"Peep, peep, we're coming, we're coming, mother," said the little ones. And they all started down the mountainside toward the spring.
It took a good while to get there, for the chicks were young, and their little legs so short and so weak that Mother Mit-chee had to wait for them a good many times. But it was a pretty sight. The yellow, downy, little fellows marched along boldly behind their mother. Sometimes she would go on a little way ahead. Then she would stop and call, "Kreet, kreet, come along, children," and the little fellows would race to see who could catch up first.
Some of them were not so strong as others, and at times they would squat upon the ground to rest. Mother Mit-chee would wait as long as she thought proper, and then tell them to "come along." And away they would go down the mountainside.
At last they reached the spring. The little ones had never seen water before, and did not know what to do. But Mother Mit-chee took a drop of clear, cold water in her bill, and raised her head before she swallowed it. Each chick copied her motion exactly. It was fun for the little boy to watch them. Nearly the whole dozen would clip their little bills into the water at once, and raise their heads to swallow it, as they had seen their mother do.
"Mother Mit-chee," said the little boy, after they had all finished drinking, "what makes you raise your head before you swallow the water?"
"Oh," said Mother Mit-chee, "that is our way of giving thanks to the Master of Life for the cool, sweet water. Our family learned to do it a long time ago, and we have always done it since."
"That sounds as if there might be a story about it," said the little boy, who was always on the watch for stories.
"Well," said Mother Mit-chee, "there is a story about it."