'
"When I took it to him he held it in his hand a moment, smoothed its
feathers gently, and then said: 'Daughter, I will tell you what you
might do with your bird. Take it carefully in your hand out yonder where
there are no tents, where the high grass is. Put it softly down on the
ground and say as you put it down, "God, I give you back your little
bird. Have pity on me as I have pity on your bird."'
"I said: 'Does it belong to God?'
"He said: 'Yes, and He will be pleased if you do not hurt it, but give
it back to Him to care for.'
"I was very much impressed and carefully followed out his directions,
saying the little prayer he had told me to say."
HIAWATHA'S BROTHERS.
Then the little Hiawatha
Learned of every bird its language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How they built their nests in summer,
Where they hid themselves in winter,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens."
Of all beasts he learned the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
How the reindeer ran so swiftly,
Why the rabbit was so timid,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers.
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