"How I wish I could see the Morning-Glory!" he said.
The Morning-Glory heard this, and she longed to let the little Wren see
her face. She pulled herself along the ground, a little at a time, until
she was at the foot of the tree where the little Wren lived. But she could
not get any farther, because she did not know how to climb. At last she
wanted to go up so much, that she caught hold of the bark of the tree,
and pulled herself up a little. And little by little, before she knew it,
she was climbing.
And she climbed right up the tree to the little Wren's nest, and put her
sweet face over the edge of the nest, where the little Wren could see.
That was how the Morning-Glory came to climb.
THE STORY OF LITTLE TAVWOTS[1]
[Footnote 1: Adapted from _The Basket Woman_, by Mary Austin.]
This is the story an Indian woman told a little white boy who lived with
his father and mother near the Indians' country; and Tavwots is the name
of the little rabbit.
But once, long ago, Tavwots was not little,--he was the largest of all
four-footed things, and a mighty hunter. He used to hunt every day; as
soon as it was day, and light enough to see, he used to get up, and go to
his hunting. But every day he saw the track of a great foot on the trail,
before him.
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