Old Indian Legends

doors. The flames leaped up high in red and yellow streaks. Now Iktomi returned to the coyote who had been looking on through his eyelashes.

Taking him again by his paws and hind feet, he swung him to and fro. Then as the wolf swung toward the red flames, Iktomi let him go. Once again the coyote fell through space. Hot air smote his nostrils. He saw red dancing fire, and now he struck a bed of cracking embers. With a quick turn he leaped out of the flames. From his heels were scattered a shower of red coals upon Iktomi’s bare arms and shoulders. Dumbfounded, Iktomi thought he saw a spirit walk out of his fire. His jaws fell apart. He thrust a palm to his face, hard over his mouth! He could scarce keep from shrieking.

Rolling over and over on the grass and rubbing the sides of his head against the ground, the coyote soon put out the fire on his fur. Iktomi’s eyes were almost ready to jump out of his head as he stood cooling a burn on his brown arm with his breath.

Sitting on his haunches, on the opposite side of the fire from where Iktomi stood, the coyote began to laugh at him.

“Another day, my friend, do not take too much for granted. Make sure the enemy is stone dead before you make a fire!”

Then off he ran so swiftly that his long bushy tail hung out in a straight line with his back.

Iktomi and the Fawn

In one of his wanderings through the wooded lands, Iktomi saw a rare bird sitting high in a treetop. Its long fan-like tail feathers had caught all the beautiful colors of the rainbow. Handsome in the glistening summer sun sat the bird of rainbow plumage. Iktomi hurried hither with his eyes fast on the bird.

He stood beneath the tree looking long and wistfully at the peacock’s bright feathers. At length he heaved a sigh and began: “Oh, I wish I had such pretty feathers! How I wish I were not I! If only I were a handsome feathered creature how happy I would be! I’d be so glad to sit upon a very high tree and bask in the summer sun like you!” said he suddenly, pointing his bony finger up toward the peacock, who was eyeing the stranger below, turning his head from side to side.

“I beg of you make me into a bird with green and purple feathers like yours!” implored Iktomi, tired now of playing the brave in beaded buckskins. The peacock then spoke to Iktomi: “I have a magic power. My touch will change you in a moment into the most beautiful peacock if you can keep one condition.”

“Yes! yes!” shouted Iktomi, jumping up and down, patting his lips with his palm, which caused his voice to vibrate in a peculiar fashion. “Yes! yes! I could keep ten conditions if only you would change me into a bird with long, bright tail feathers. Oh, I am so ugly! I am so tired of being myself! Change me! Do!”

Hereupon the peacock spread out both his wings, and scarce moving them, he sailed slowly down upon the ground. Right beside Iktomi he alighted. Very low in Iktomi’s ear the peacock whispered, “Are you willing to keep one condition, though hard it be?”

“Yes! yes! I’ve told you ten of them if need be!” exclaimed Iktomi, with some impatience.

“Then I pronounce you a handsome feathered bird. No longer are you Iktomi the mischief-maker.” Saying this the peacock touched Iktomi with the tips of his wings.

Iktomi vanished at the touch. There stood beneath the tree two handsome peacocks. While one of the pair strutted about with a head turned aside as if dazzled by his own bright-tinted tail feathers, the other bird soared slowly upward. He sat quiet and unconscious of his gay plumage. He seemed content to perch there on a large limb in the warm sunshine.

After a little while the vain peacock, dizzy with his bright colors, spread out his wings and lit on the same branch with the elder bird.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “how hard to fly! Brightly tinted feathers are handsome, but I wish they were light enough to fly!” Just there the elder bird interrupted him. “That is the one condition. Never try to fly like other birds. Upon the day you try to fly you shall be changed into your former self.”

“Oh, what a shame that bright feathers cannot fly into the sky!” cried the peacock. Already he grew restless. He longed to soar through space. He yearned to fly above the trees high upward to the sun.

“Oh, there I see a flock of birds flying thither! Oh! oh!” said he, flapping his wings, “I must try my wings! I am tired of bright tail feathers. I want to try my wings.”

“No, no!” clucked the elder bird. The flock of chattering birds flew by with whirring wings. “Ōōp! ōōp!” called some to their mates.

Possessed by an irrepressible impulse the Iktomi peacock called out, “Hĕ! I want to come! Wait for me!” and with that he gave a lunge into the air. The flock of flying feathers wheeled about and lowered over the tree whence came the peacock’s cry. Only one rare bird sat on the tree, and beneath, on the ground, stood a brave in brown buckskins.

“I am my old self again!” groaned Iktomi in a sad voice. “Make me over, pretty bird. Try me this once again!” he pleaded in vain.

“Old Iktomi wants to fly! Ah! We cannot wait for him!” sang the birds as they flew away.

Muttering unhappy vows to himself, Iktomi had not gone far when he chanced upon a bunch of long slender arrows. One by one they rose in the air and shot a straight line over the prairie. Others shot up into the blue sky and were soon lost to sight. Only one was left. He was making ready for his flight when Iktomi