Little Folks of North America / Stories about children living in the different parts of North America

Sometimes they let their ponies move along at a slow walk; but more often they gallop wildly along, with black hair waving in the air, and with bright and eager eyes. Then, too, the red children have canoes, in which they paddle on the lakes or streams near home.

The canoe of the Canadian Indian is the best possible boat for the kind of life he follows, just as the Eskimo’s kayak suits the icy waters of the north. Everything he needs for it can be found in the forest. He cuts down the cedar for its ribs, he gathers birch-bark with which to cover it, he gets resin from the pine to make it water-tight. When the ice begins to break up in the springtime and the wild swans and geese fly overhead, then he takes it from its winter resting place beneath the snow and launches it on the lake or stream near his home. With his birch canoe he can travel a long way through the wilderness, for when he has hunted or fished all day long, he can bring his canoe up on the shore and turn it bottom upwards. In an instant he has a roof to shelter him while he takes his night’s sleep.

The Indian children are sure to have dogs about their home. These are long-legged, sharp-nosed creatures, and they always look lean and hungry. Sometimes a puppy is cared for tenderly. Then, perhaps, it grows up full of love for its young master. But generally the dogs are only half-fed, and they are ever ready to fight with each other, and rob the stores of their masters. Yet they are very helpful to the Indian, as well as to many a white traveler in Canada. They drag the sledges over the snow in the winter and the little carts in the summer.

Many a time they stop to quarrel among themselves; many a time the sledge is over-turned and the rider is landed in a bank of snow. Many a time the dogs refuse to obey the word of the driver. Then the long whip flies right and left among them, and with angry howls they get back into order.

Wild Animals of the Forest and Prairie.

Out on the prairies and among the forests are many wild animals which the Indian boy delights to hunt. He has a bow and arrows of his own, and when he his older, his father promises him that he will buy him a gun from the white traders. Perhaps the most clever of all the animals hunted in Canada is the beaver. It might well be called the animal-carpenter. Its favorite home is a shallow lake or stream. The children of the wilderness are ever on the lookout for small earth mounds along the banks. Whenever they find these, they also notice that trees have been cut down nearby. It was certainly the work of beavers. These little mounds, then, are the roofs of store houses where the wise little creatures have placed piles of tender wood and roots, for their winter’s supply.

From these store-houses, tunnels have been dug out for some distance under the shallow water of the pond or stream, to the very doors of the beavers’ homes, which have been made very carefully out of twigs and brush, and plastered with mud. The tops can generally be seen above the surface of the water. Inside there are beds of boughs covered with soft grass and bark, and here the beavers sleep most of the hours during the winter. If the hunters come upon a beaver village in cold weather, there is no sign that the animals are near, for the beavers are all inside their homes. This is the time to get them, however, for then the soft thick fur is at its best.

In the autumn the men and boys generally catch the animals in traps, but in the winter, when the ice is frozen quite solid, the hunters stop up the passage from the beaver’s home to his store-house on the bank. Then with their axes, they break into the lodges, and dragging out the fat sleepy animals, they kill them, one by one. The sledges are soon packed and the hunters start for home, thinking as they go, of the feast of fat meat they will soon have. The beautiful furs must be tanned and put away for the traders, but the flesh of the animals they will enjoy themselves.

Besides beavers, there are martens, minks and fishers to be hunted and trapped, as well as muskrats and skunks. As soon as autumn comes the men and boys begin to put their traps in order, for with the first cold of November, they will carry them out to the pine forests. The Indian children would tell you that they cannot imagine why the fisher is so called. They know its ways and that it never goes near to the water except when it has to cross over to the other side. It has a long bushy tail and its fur is even richer than the costly sable.

As for the mink, they have discovered it is quite different from either the marten or the fisher, and its fur is not as beautiful. It lives near the streams and feeds upon crabs and fish. Many a time the young Indian has caught a mink by baiting his trap with fish.

Sometimes, as the children are playing around the camp in the evening, they hear a sudden screech in the distance. It is the cry of a wild-cat, or lynx. They would not care to have it take them by surprise, for it is a fierce creature, and its teeth and claws are very sharp. The men, however, hunt wild-cats and get many of them every year, because they are well paid for the skins.

Then there are foxes, silver and black and red. Many thousands of these sly creatures are shot or trapped every year in Canada. Sometimes a fox-cub is brought into the camp to amuse the children. It is a gentle, pretty creature at first, but before long it will show the ugly cunning of its parents.

The boys sometimes search for muskrats, whose homes are much like those of the beavers, a number of them always found together.

Off for the Hunt.

There are many half-breed children in Canada, as you already know. They grow up with a love of hunting like their Indian brothers. They dress in Indian fashion, wearing moccasins and leggings. Many of them live in rough log huts and sleep on piles of brush covered with fur robes. When the cold weather sets in, the Indian, and the half-breed boy as well, does what he can to help the men of the household get ready for the busiest work of the year, as the trapping and hunting season is at hand.

By the first of November the lakes and streams are frozen, and the winter coats of the wild animals are at their best. On a bright, frosty morning, often with the thermometer below zero, the trapper dresses himself in his thickest socks and moccasins, warm leggings and cloak. He fastens a fur cap down over his head and draws on his long fur mittens which reach up to his elbows. A hatchet, hunting knife, and fire-bag hang from his belt.

While he is dressing, his wife is busy preparing his pack, for he may be gone several days. The pack consists of a blanket, a kettle and cup, sugar and salt, tea, of which the Indians are very fond, and enough pemmican to last several days. Pemmican is dried meat ground fine and mixed with fat. If the trapper is not very poor he has steel traps and a gun to add to his pack. When it is ready, it is bound to a hand sledge which is simply a thin board curled up at one end. It is easily drawn over the snow, and at the end of the hunt is loaded with furs and game to carry home.

Now for the snow shoes! When these have been bound on his feet, the trapper can skim over the snow fields with the greatest ease, drawing his sledge behind him. He must not sing nor make any noise as he moves along; nor if he has any company can there be any loud talking. Otherwise the animals whom he seeks, might take fright and flee from danger, and this must not happen on any account.

Ah, how cold it is! the breath freezes as it leaves the mouth and nostrils, the eye-lashes become stiff with frost, but the hunter is too busy watching for signs of the prey he seeks, to think of these things. His hands and feet become numb with the biting cold, but this is only what he expected, and he trusts to his quick movements to keep them from freezing. At last the forest is reached and he turns his eyes in every direction for signs that animals have been near. A white man would see nothing, where an Indian or a half-breed reads whole pages in Mother Nature’s wonderful book.

Yes, a marten was here only an hour or two since and is still not very far away. A trap must be set up in this very spot and baited with dried meat, or with a tender piece of squirrel. Then the hunter creeps away, to seek places where there are other signs of life and to set up new traps while he waits. If he is after foxes or minks, he visits the shores of the lakes and swamps. He looks carefully about him now for the foot-marks of the fox, or the sharp, clear track of the mink.

When the evening comes the trapper looks about him for some place that is sheltered from the wind. There he makes a roaring fire, over which he brews a pot of tea. When this is ready, he enjoys his hot drink, together with a share of the pemmican brought from home. Next he gathers soft pine boughs for a bed, covers them with a blanket, and with his feet towards the fire, lies down for his night’s rest. Toward morning the fire burns low, and the cold grows so bitter that the man cannot sleep. He gets up, piles on more wood, and warms himself by the bright flames. Once more he stretches himself on his bed of boughs, hoping to sleep until the morning sunshine shall awaken him.

Winter Sports.

A great many of the white children of Canada live in Quebec and Ontario. Although these provinces lie in the southern part, yet the winter is very cold even there. The children enjoy it, however, because the air is clear and dry, and there is plenty of snow on the ground. Even the little folks learn how to use snow-shoes, and with these on their feet, they skim over the crusted snowfields like the wind.

They have many toboggan rides, too. Nothing could be pleasanter for a party of merry children, than to spend the morning coasting down the steep hillside on wooden sleds called toboggans, which are shaped much like the Indian hand-sledges. They move so fast over the snow, that the riders must hold on tightly lest they tumble out. Sometimes there is a sudden upset as the toboggan strikes a rough spot on the hillside. Then there is much laughing and shouting as the children pick themselves up, and make ready for a fresh start.

Perhaps the greatest sport of all is a ride on an ice-boat which is raised on large iron skates, and in a good wind will sail very swiftly. When the St. Lawrence River is frozen over, one can see numbers of ice-boats skimming along with their loads of happy passengers.

Of course the children of Canada skate and play hockey. The lakes and ponds are frozen over for many months, so that parties are continually made up for skating and games on the ice.

One must certainly not forget to mention sleigh-rides. There is no place in the world where the people enjoy sleigh-riding more. They wrap themselves up in warm furs, and spring into the pretty sleighs to which gaily decked horses are harnessed. Jingle, jingle, sound the bells, and when the word is given, away move the sleighs filled with their merry loads.

The Big Cities.

Although Canada has been under English rule for a long time, yet many French people have continued to live there. In fact, in the province of Quebec there are more French than English. The old part of the city of Quebec looks much to-day as it did in the long ago, when Wolfe climbed the cliff and took the French army by surprise. Along the narrow streets there are many quaint old houses with peaked roofs, in whose gardens French-Canadian children play the games and sing the songs of France. Here and there you will see an altar on which flowers have been placed, and people bowing before the image of the Virgin Mary.

If you visit Quebec, you will certainly go to the citadel. Far above the water it stands, on the summit of the cliff, while just below it lies the old city, with its high, pointed roofs, and queer gates opening into old-fashioned gardens. Far, far below lies the beautiful St. Lawrence, where ships of many countries lie at anchor. Immense rafts of lumber come floating down the river, to be sent on the waiting ships to other lands. On some of these rafts are tiny houses for the men who have rowed them from the forests, hundreds of miles up the river.

Before you leave the city you will walk out on the Plains of Abraham which stretch into the country back of the citadel. There the great battle was fought that gave Canada to the English; and there in the summer of 1908 a great celebration was held. Three hundred years ago the city of Quebec was founded, and in memory of this, many thousands of people gathered to see the pageants, representing the great things that have happened there. The city was gay with flags and bright-colored banners. There were concerts, balls and grand dinners. The Prince of Wales himself was there to take part in the good time. The pageants were the best part of the celebration, of course. They were given on the Plains of Abraham, and hundreds of men, women and children took part. Thousands of people gathered in the open-air theatre to look on.

Montreal is another beautiful city. It is built on an island in the St. Lawrence River. Most of the children there are of French blood, but there are also many boys and girls of Irish, Scotch and English families. They are all proud of the wonderful bridge, nearly two miles long, that crosses the river at Montreal, and of the beautiful cathedral that will hold ten thousand people. They, as well as the children of Quebec, see ships of many countries anchored near their homes. Many of these ships have crossed the ocean to receive the lumber and furs that Canada wishes to send to other lands.

The capital of Canada is Ottawa, in the province of Ontario. It is also on the St. Lawrence. High up above the water, on the river banks, stand many beautiful buildings, where all the business of the government of Canada is carried on. Ottawa is a beautiful place for a home and the children who live there should be very happy. They have the winter sports of Quebec, while on the hot summer days they can sail in and out among the islands of the river, or picnic under the trees of the forests only a short distance away.

On the Farms.

In your grandfather’s time, few people except the Indians and halfbreeds, were living on the prairies over which Mackenzie made his way on his journey westward. There were no roads there in those days; no tracks over which trains filled with passengers went flying by. Great herds of buffaloes wandered about, feeding on the tall prairie grass, while here and there little red children ran in and out of their wigwams, and danced about the camp-fires.

To-day scarcely a buffalo is left in the land, the shriek of the steam engine is often heard, while many comfortable farm houses can be seen. In the summer time there is much to do, even for the little folks. The boys help weed the vegetable gardens, and care for the cows and the horses, while their fathers are busy in the fields of wheat and oats that stretch over many acres. The girls learn to darn and sew, as well as wash dishes and help their mothers make bread and pies for the hungry workmen.

Sometimes the farmer raises only hay, but the big crops must be cared for very carefully and the boys do their share of the work. Ranches where cattle and horses are raised are also found on the prairies. Certainly no place could be better for this work, since the broad acres of tall grass make the best feeding-grounds possible.

When August comes, the men and boys get out their guns and watch for the coming of the prairie chickens. Later on, the wild ducks and geese appear in large flocks. This is the time for the boys to take their canoes and a few supplies, and camp out on the shores of the lakes and ponds, for they know that the birds love the water and are sure to seek it. There will be feasting in the big farmhouses now, because there will be plenty of tender wild ducks to roast, and the cellars are full of the vegetables raised in the gardens.

Besides the autumn shooting and the feasts that follow, there are many other good times for the young folks on the big farms. They meet together for singing and dancing, they play tennis, they have games of hockey, both on land and ice, they have jolly sleigh rides in the frosty air, they skate and they curl, and, of course, the small boys and girls make snow-forts and houses that will last without melting for a month at a time. If you who live in warmer lands should pity them for having such long, cold winters and so much snow, the children would laugh at the idea. They would tell you that they love the winter and hate to have it come to an end. They can have such jolly times out of doors, and then, when they are tired of their rough sports, they can gather around roaring fires in the big living-rooms of the houses, and listen to the stories the older folks tell them of the days of long ago.

In a Lumber Camp.

For many years the white settlers in Canada have been busy cutting down trees in the big pine forests, yet they still stretch for many miles through the country. When the autumn comes the children of the lumber-men hear their fathers tell of the winter’s work before them. They are going out into the forests to live, and will not be home again for many months. A party of these lumber-men start out together. They carry everything they will need for their rough housekeeping,—a few kettles and dishes for cooking, some heavy blankets, a supply of flour for bread, salt-pork, tea and molasses.

The last good-bye is said and they start out on their long journey to the forests. As soon as they reach the place for the winter camp they set to work to build a house of logs. In the middle of the roof a place is left open, to let out the smoke when a fire is burning inside. Around the side of the big room, the men build bunks in which to sleep at night, and in the middle they make a fireplace, where the blazing logs on winter evenings will send out such warmth and cheer, that Jack Frost will not dare to venture through the cracks in the walls.

The lumber-men are happy in their work. All day long the sound of their axes rings through the forest, while they vie with each other in cutting down the big trees. Then when night comes and their supper of bread, tea and fried pork is finished, they gather around the fire to smoke and tell stories. The weeks pass quickly, and with the coming of spring, immense piles of logs are ready to go to the saw-mills.

When the ice begins to break up, it is a sign to the men to bind the logs into cribs. Thirty or forty logs are enough for one crib. The cribs are fastened together to form rafts, which are set floating down the rivers. Some of the men ride on the rafts and guide them by means of long poles tipped with steel, to prevent them from running aground. Others of the party go at once to the saw-mills, to be ready to receive the logs when they arrive. Buzz-z-z sounds through the air, as the big wheels turn and the trees of the forest are rapidly changed into strong lumber.

Beyond the Mountains.

Let us now cross the Rocky Mountains, and make a short visit in British Columbia. It is the most beautiful province in Canada, with its mountains covered with forests and its rivers stocked with fish. The children who live near the Fraser River, can tell wonderful fish stories, for at a certain time of the year, millions of salmon leave the ocean and make their way up this river. Then big folks and little are busy with nets, hauling in the fish and carrying them to the canneries.

Gold is also found on the Fraser River, while the mountains nearby are rich in other minerals.

The Klondike Mines.

Far up in the northwest of Canada, near the borders of Alaska, are the famous Klondike mines. You have probably heard of them, and of the long, hard journey a person must take to get there. Such wonderful stories have been told of the riches one can bring away from these mountains, that many a young man has left home and friends to seek his fortune there. Now-a-days it is easier to reach the Klondike mines than it was a few years ago, but the country is cold and dreary and most of the food must be brought from a distance, so that few white children have found their way there. Yet as they sit in their cosy homes, they are glad to listen to the stories of that wild country, told to them by the brave men who have been to the Klondike gold regions.

CHAPTER V
Little Folks of Labrador

Some white children are to be found there, however. Their fathers are fishermen who get a living for their families out of the icy waters of the ocean. Sometimes, too, they hunt the deer, or set traps for other wild animals. In the summer time the children search for birds’ eggs, and in the autumn the men and boys keep on the lookout for eider-ducks, wild swans, ducks, geese and ptarmigan. The meat of these birds is sweet and tender, while the feathers make warm beds, pillows and quilts.

The children of the fishermen paddle about in the rough waters in their canoes when many other children would be afraid to venture out from the shore. They ride over the snow in low sledges drawn by half-tamed, surly dogs. They spend many a day fishing for cod and salmon. They hunt for the berries, ripening in the sunshine of the short summer. They play with their Eskimo neighbors whom they meet once a week to study their Bible lessons with the kind missionaries, who have come to live among them.

Each Eskimo house is entered by a long, low passage, made of logs and turf. The floor of the one big room is covered with boards, and a long, wooden platform at one end is the sleeping place for the whole family. On another side is a fireplace lined with pebbles, where the mother cooks the food for the family. There is a window in the house or maybe there are two, so that altogether the Eskimos of Labrador can be far more comfortable than their brothers and sisters of Greenland.

They live in much the same way, however. They dress in furs; they fish; they kill seals; they hunt the deer; they ride over the country in low sledges drawn by unruly dogs; they make kayaks, in which they paddle about among the islands near to the shore. They are not obliged to build snow or stone houses like their brothers in Greenland. Cold as it is, forests of spruce and pine grow not very far inland; so that they are able to get plenty of logs for the walls of their houses. These they plaster so thickly with turf, that the wind cannot make its way inside.

The Indians of Labrador.

As you leave the coast, and travel inland, you will find that the air becomes warmer and that there are more trees and plants. The country is much pleasanter, and no doubt this is the reason that the Indians of Labrador prefer to live here in winter rather than on the coast. The redmen are great hunters, too, and as there are many wild animals in the forests, they spend the autumn and winter trapping and shooting. Here and there along the ponds and streams you may see the bark wigwams of the redmen.

Children dressed in skins go skimming past you over the snow fields. They wear snow-shoes on their feet, so they can travel fast. When they are tired of this sport, they can take a ride on a dog-sledge, or play with their puppies. The boys help their fathers set traps for martens and foxes; they go on porcupine hunts; they search for beaver villages, and sometimes they come hurrying home to say that they have come upon a bear or the tracks of a lynx or an otter.

The girls learn to embroider moccasins and leggings with beads and porcupine quills; they bring wood for the fires and drinking water from the streams; they weave baskets. After a deer-hunt they dry the meat and grind it to make pemmican. Indeed, they learn all those things that Indians think are necessary for the making of good and helpful women. So the days pass and the years follow each other in bleak Labrador.

CHAPTER VI
Little Folks of Newfoundland

Now, however, many rosy-cheeked boys and girls live on the island. Their fathers are fishermen who have settled there because they have found it is one of the best fishing-grounds in the world. Off the southeast coast stretches a sandbank at least three hundred miles long, and in the waters nearby millions of cod and haddock are found every year. It is no wonder, therefore, that not only the fishermen who live in Newfoundland, but people from Canada and the United States, and even from countries across the ocean, gather on the shores of the island every year to fish.

Heavy fogs hang over these shores for a large part of the year, and are caused in a curious way. There is a warm current that flows northward through the Atlantic Ocean, making the western coast of Greenland so much warmer than the eastern that most of the people there choose to live on that side of the island. But there is also a very cold Arctic current flowing southward, filling the air along the eastern coast of Labrador with frost. These two currents meet off the Newfoundland shore, and as the warm and cold come together, clouds of vapor rise in the air. It is the smoke of a water battle.

Notwithstanding the fogs and the dampness, the children of Newfoundland love their home dearly. They love the deep and narrow bays that reach far into the land, and they often make up sailing parties to the small islands that dot the clear, deep waters. They love the blue sky of the summer. They watch with delight the icebergs that float by from time to time in their journey from the frozen north. When winter comes these children search along the shore for the seals that play on the floating cakes of ice and bask in the sunlight. Best of all they enjoy the famous “silver thaw” of Newfoundland, perhaps the most beautiful sight in all the world.

This “silver thaw” or ice-storm, is seen only in winter. It is caused by a heavy fall of rain when the air is very cold. As the rain falls, it turns to ice on everything it touches. The branches of the trees and the tiniest twigs upon them are coated with garments of ice which grow thicker and thicker as the storm continues. Every bush and shrub receives the same beautiful dress. At last the clouds pass and the sun shines out in all his glory. Then the world around is changed in an instant into a wonderland of beauty. It seems as though one were surrounded by myriads of diamonds, each one glowing with all the colors of the rainbow. The riches of Aladdin seem nothing beside them.

Neither the fishermen nor the children care to explore the inland country very far. There are many high hills there, but they are bare and rocky. Cattle could not be raised easily in such places, nor could gardens be planted. So the people are content to stay near the shores and get a living from the waters near by.

During winter the men and boys are busy mending their nets and putting their boats in order. They also go out in the woods to cut down the trees to get fuel enough for the coming year. Yet they have much spare time, so there is a good deal of visiting between the homes, and many merry parties are held where both old folks and young dance and sing and play games.

As soon as the spring opens the fishing season begins. The boats are brought out from winter quarters, the sails are spread, and the harbors seem alive once more. There is work enough for everyone now. The men and boys are on the water from morning till night, while the women and girls are as busy as bees curing the fish after it is brought on shore.

The children of Newfoundland are taught to salute the English flag because they, as well as Canada, are under the rule of Great Britain. Yet Newfoundland and the peninsula of Labrador never became a part of the Dominion of Canada.

The capital of Newfoundland is the city of St. Johns. Its deep harbor is very beautiful. High cliffs of red sandstone rise on each side and protect the ships anchored in the waters below from the fiercest gales. The city is built on the slope of a hill on the northern side of the harbor. On the summit of the hill, above the rows of houses in the streets below is a beautiful cathedral where many of the people go to worship on Sunday. In good weather the children of the city, who wake early enough, can turn their eyes out towards the ocean and watch the lovely clouds of the sunrise,—fairy palaces of crimson and gold which vanish from their sight as they are looking.

After the Birds.

Great numbers of visitors come to Newfoundland every year. Many of them are hunters who have heard of the game to be found in the forests and along the shores of the lakes and ponds. The ptarmigan, the wild duck and goose, the plover, the curlew, and still other birds are to be found there.

The best time for bird hunting is after the flies and mosquitoes have said good-by to the country. Then it is that many strangers step off the steamer at St. Johns. With guns and game-bags they make their way towards the “barrens” of the inland country. These barrens are often stretches where there are no trees, and little else grows. The wild birds flock there in great numbers, for they have found that there are wild berries to be had for the picking even in that barren country, and they feast and feast till they are plump and fat and ready for the sportsman’s game-bag.

It seems so quiet and safe out on the lonely barrens that the birds are not on the lookout for danger, when suddenly bang, bang! sounds through the air and some of the birds out of a happy flock fall to the ground, while the rest fly away in great fright.

Herds of reindeer wander over the lonely parts of the country in search of the moss that is their favorite food. They have beautiful branching horns and their short legs are very strong. They have a wonderful scent, which warns them of danger, and they easily take fright. Often, when a hunter has crept upon them ever so softly, they have discovered his nearness and away they scudded over the hills and rocks where he would not dare to venture, and he has been obliged to give up the chase for a time, at any rate.

The Indians of the island do much better than the white hunters. They know how to outwit the reindeer and to approach them from such a direction that the wind will not carry the scent. For this reason the white sportsmen have learned that if they wish to be successful they had best take an Indian guide with them. Even then they have to be so careful that they think it great sport, and are very proud when they can show their friends some fine antlers which they have brought home after a hunting trip in Newfoundland.

The Copper Mines.

On the eastern coast of Newfoundland there is a beautiful bay to which the French gave the name of Notre Dame or, Our Lady. It has many arms which reach far into the land; some of these are so deep that they make good places for ships to anchor. Others are very small and the water is so smooth that little children can paddle about in it without fear.

This bay of Notre Dame is now famous for something besides its beauty, as copper mines have been discovered on its shores. One of the richest of these is at Bett’s Cove and many men are now at work getting the precious ore and shipping it to other lands.

CHAPTER VII
Little Folks of the United States

These children are proud of the fact that they live in the United States, and call their country “The land of the free and the home of the brave.” Their people have come from many lands. French, German, Irish, Polish and Jewish boys and girls, besides those of many other countries, sit side by side in the schoolrooms and play happily together with their tops and dolls.

The United States of America, for that is the full name of this country, reaches from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from Canada on the north to Mexico and the Gulf of Mexico on the south. It is a country of high mountains, fertile valleys, broad plains and mighty rivers. Its children know neither the terrible cold of the far north nor the burning heat of the equator, for they live in the temperate belt of the earth. No season of the year is long enough to tire them, for spring follows close upon the winter, and is soon followed by the pleasant warmth of summer. Then comes the autumn when the leaves change their color and Mother Nature makes ready for her winter’s rest. At last the snow falls and covers the earth with her white mantle.

The Mound Builders.

In the long ago a strange people lived in the United States. They left no books to tell their story, but here and there through the country mounds of earth which they built are still standing. Some of them are shaped like birds with wings outspread, others have the forms of fishes, snakes, and human beings. Still other mounds show that they must have been used as altars upon which sacrifices were burned, and others, again, contain tools, dishes, idols and ornaments. Some of the ornaments and dishes were decorated with the finest carvings. Heads of people, frogs and birds are still to be seen on the pipes that have been preserved in the mounds all these years. Tools have been found to show the mound-builders, as we call these people, knew how to work metal, and other things tell the story that the men of that long ago were wise in many ways and could not have been savages. There are earthworks near some of the mounds that seem to have been built as forts, so they probably fought in wars. Yet we can only guess as to their life, for no one knows their history.

The Indians.

When the first white men visited America they found Indians living throughout the country, along the banks of the rivers and on the shores of the ocean. Their homes were for the most part tents covered with bark or the skins of animals. When the boys were still tiny little fellows they learned to use bows and arrows so that as they grew up they would be good hunters and warriors like their fathers.

In some parts of the country the girls helped their mothers tend fields of maize which to this day is called Indian corn. Cakes were made of this and eaten with the fish and game killed by the men.

In other places the women and children gathered the wild rice that grew in the shallow ponds. This, together with the berries picked by the girls, the honey taken from the nests of wild bees by the boys, and the sap from the maple trees, added a good deal to the daily fare of meat and fish.

The red children were taught to bear cold and hunger without complaining. There were days when they feasted and had all the good things to eat they could wish for. But their parents did not understand the need of looking ahead. During the summer the berries and the honey, the fish and the game were plentiful, and the people did not seem to remember that winter would soon follow when the earth’s mantle of snow and the ice on the rivers would make it harder for them to get food. So there were times when they and their little ones went hungry to bed and woke up in the morning with no breakfast before them.

The boys grew up with a love of war, and looked admiringly at the men when they went away from the village with hideous, painted faces, and with tomahawks and hatchets at their sides, to take other unfriendly tribes by surprise and to scalp as many of their enemies as possible.

While the boys were busy with mock battles and hunts in the forests after game with their fathers, the girls worked with their mothers weaving baskets and tanning the skins of the wild animals brought home by the men. They also got wood for the fires and helped in the simple cooking. They played games with their brothers, too, and both boys and girls were never so happy as when sitting around the lodge fire, listening to the fairy tales told by their grandmothers and to stories of war and the chase by the “braves,” as they called their warriors.

The parents of these red children did not need to work so hard for food and clothing as did the Indians of Canada, because summer in the United States is longer and warmer, and winter is not so cold.

With soft moccasins on their feet the Indians stole noiselessly over the forest paths, and in their light birch canoes they glided along the streams, with never a hat on the head and with light clothing on the body. They feared nothing save the war-whoop of enemies.

There came a day when a white man and his followers appeared in the country. It was Leif, the son of Eric the Red, who had left his home in Greenland and started out in search of adventure. He steered his course southward and came in time to Newfoundland, but the country did not please him. So he continued on his way till he reached the eastern coast of the United States, and there he landed. During his stay Leif and his companions met no other people, but to their great delight they found vines from which hung large clusters of grapes, and for this reason they called the place Vinland. When they were ready to leave they loaded their vessel with grapes, together with lumber from the forests, which was even more precious to them than the grapes, because as you know, there were no trees in Greenland. Then they set sail for home to tell of the land they had visited which had seemed so warm and beautiful to them.

After Leif, other Norsemen came who settled along the shore of this country and lived here for a while. They met the dark-skinned natives with whom they had trouble. After a while they went away, never to come again. During their stay here a Norse baby was born, to whom the name Snorri was given, and this boy was, no doubt, the first white child born in the United States.

After Many Years.

More than four hundred years passed by and the red men lived on in their own savage way, hunting, fishing, and making war upon each other. Then something happened which led in time to great changes for the red children. It was in the year 1492 that Columbus discovered a small island of the West Indies, lying southeast of the United States. The natives, who were gentler and less war-like than the other Indians of North America, greeted him with delight and brought him presents of fruit and gold.

Not long after the coming of Columbus many Spaniards, hearing of the rich treasures of the West Indies, followed him there and settled. One of them, named Ponce de Leon, stayed long enough to gain great riches. But he was fast growing old and all his wealth could not keep him young. Then he began to listen to the stories the Indians told him of a land not far away, in which there was such a wonderful fountain that a person had but to drink of its waters to live forever. They called it “The fountain of youth.”

Ponce de Leon’s eyes grew bright. If only he could find that fountain! He set sail with a few followers, and one beautiful Easter Sunday he came in sight of a land rich in flowers. Such a land, he thought, must be the one to contain the fountain he was seeking.

The sails were furled and the Spaniard and his friends stepped on shore. “Let us call the place Florida, for it is a land of flowers,” he said, and so this peninsula, reaching out from the southeastern part of the United States, has been called Florida to this day.

Ponce de Leon remained in the country for some time, wandering about and drinking the water of stream and lake, yet as you may believe, he failed to discover the fountain he sought. And, alas! instead of youth, he met death, for, as he was about to leave, he was pierced by the poisoned arrow of an Indian who did not trust the white men like his brothers of the West Indies.

Through Ponce de Leon’s discovery on that beautiful Easter Sunday other Spaniards followed him to Florida and settled there with their wives and children.

The Coming of the English.

French settlers followed the Spaniards to the New World, but except in Canada, they did not stay long.

Nearly a hundred years passed when at last English ships began to visit the country north of Florida. They carried home wonderful stories of necklaces set with pearls as big as peas and worn commonly by the Indian maidens, of countless hares and deer in the woods, of delicious grapes, cucumbers and melons that grew wild on the vines, and of rich forests of oak trees that grew larger and better than those of England. Then, too, a strange plant grew abundantly in the fields. This plant the Indians put in pipes and smoked.

“A colony should certainly be planted in that beautiful country,” Sir Walter Raleigh told the queen.

She listened thoughtfully to what he said, and not long afterwards a party of men and women sailed from England and crossed the ocean to live in Virginia, as the new home was called in honor of the virgin queen, Elizabeth. Governor Dare was the leader.

The colony settled on an island near the shore, and here was born the first English white child of the United States. The new baby, whose grandfather was Governor Dare, was called Virginia like her home, but sad to say, no one knows how long she lived nor what befell her, for Governor Dare went back to England for a time, and when he returned little Virginia and her people had disappeared and there was no one to tell where they had gone. Perhaps the Indians had killed them, or had made slaves of them and taken them far inland. At any rate, none of the neighboring red men would tell what had happened to the white strangers who had come to live among them.

Other English settlers followed soon afterwards, however, and built villages among the Indians; and among the oak forests of Virginia little white children were born in rough log houses and played on the beaches along the shore. Their fathers planted fields of corn, and tobacco which they had learned to smoke. They hunted deer, hares, and wild turkeys in the forests.

These early English settlers built walls around their villages in case of sudden attack, for they could not trust their red neighbors, who were not pleased to have the white strangers settling in the country around them.

The little English children were generally happy. The country around them was beautiful, the birds sang sweet songs in the trees near by, and there were flowers and fruits in plenty. When Christmas came they watched the Yule log burn in the big fireplace, and gathered around tables loaded with roasted turkeys, venison and other good things to eat.

Years passed by, and other settlers came to America. Most of them were from England, but there were some from Holland and Sweden and other countries of Europe.

Among the newcomers were the Quakers under William Penn, who called their new home in America Pennsylvania, meaning, Penn’s woods. They were gentle and peaceful and had little trouble with their Indian neighbors.

Then there were the Pilgrims who landed at Plymouth in New England one bleak November day. They were quiet and sober-faced. They left their old home to seek one in which they would be free to worship God in the way they thought best. As it happened, they chose for themselves the coldest corner of the United States in which to settle and they had before them years of struggle and hard work.

They found the winters in New England colder than those they had known in England and the sharp winds crept in between the cracks in the walls of their rough log houses, chilling their backs even when they were gathered around the blazing logs in the big fireplaces. The crops of corn and beans were often scanty, because the soil was poor, and around them not far away were the Indians, some of whom scowled and muttered ugly words when they spoke of the white settlers who were hunting the game in the forests, and planting gardens on the land to which they thought they alone had the right.

The children of the Pilgrims were taught to be very quiet and sober in their ways. They loved to listen to the squirrels chattering in the trees, and to watch the rabbits scamper across the paths. They gathered blueberries and blackberries in summer and chestnuts and hickory nuts in the autumn. The boys dragged their sisters on rough sleds over the snow in winter and waded with them in the brooks as the days grew warmer, and at such times they laughed and chattered like all happy children. But when they reached home their faces became sober and their voices low, for they were taught that among older folks children should be seen and not heard.

When evening came they sat in straight chairs in the big kitchen which was the “living room” as well, while the men talked over the day’s work, and the women knit socks for the family.

Sometimes as the little Pilgrims settled themselves for the night’s sleep they were roused by the howling of wolves outside. They shuddered as they thought, “Suppose that had been the war whoop of the Indians coming to attack our village.”

On Sunday when the Pilgrims went to church the men led the way armed with muskets which might be needed at any moment in defending their families.

After the Pilgrims, the Puritans came to New England. They were even more sober and strict in their ways than the Pilgrims, and they, too, had trouble with their Indian neighbors.

Perhaps the jolliest people who came from Europe were the Dutch, who settled on the Hudson River in New York. You remember poor Henry Hudson who was left to his sad fate in Hudson Bay. Before he went there he discovered the beautiful river of that name, and when he went back to Europe he told the king of Holland about the Indians he had met, and of the loads of rich furs which they brought home from their hunting trips.

His words were not forgotten, and so it came to pass that the thrifty Dutchman made settlements in that part of the New World which they claimed through the discovery of Henry Hudson. They were not poor, like the Pilgrims east of them. They brought chests of linen and silver from Holland, and they built comfortable homes for themselves on the banks of the Hudson River, with porches where they sat with their children on summer evenings, telling fairy stories and laughing together in their own jolly way. The children’s eyes grew bright as they listened to the stories, and as they looked out on the woods and fields in the silvery moonlight, they fancied they could see fairies in gauzy green robes dancing on the grass and little brown gnomes stepping out from under the rocks.

The Dutch children had the grandest time at Christmas. They hung up their stockings by the fireplace the night before and then, as they lay in their beds, too much excited to sleep, they fancied they heard the reindeer of the good Santa Claus pawing away the snow on the roof overhead. Of course there were presents the next morning and a lovely Christmas tree, followed by a feast of all good things that grew about the new home. Yes, Christmas was the best day in all the year to the rosy-cheeked roly-poly Dutch children with blue eyes and flaxen hair.

While they were having such good times, their fathers were trading with the Indians with whom they had less trouble than the Pilgrims and Puritans. They sold the red men beads and blankets, guns and trinkets, and in exchange took furs of the marten and mink, the beaver and otter, which the Indians shot or trapped in the country around. Once in a while a big ship from Holland sailed into New York Harbor, bringing tea and sugar, blankets and dress-goods for the Dutchmen and their families, and were then reloaded with the furs obtained from the Indians.

As time passed by the settlements along the shores of the United States grew larger and more numerous. The Indians scowled more and more deeply and there were dreadful wars between them and the white men. In their spare time the settlers made roads through the country and cleared away some of the forests. In the north they traded with the Indians for furs and planted fields of corn and other grains and vegetables. Farther south tobacco and cotton were raised on the plantations. Sheep were tended on the hillsides and the wives of the settlers carded and spun the wool and wove it in hand-looms into clothing for their families. Cargoes of Negro slaves were brought from Africa to work on the plantations. The cotton that was raised there was sent across the Atlantic to be made into cloth in the factories of Europe.

During all these years the white men did not move far inland because of the Indians, and of mountains which must be crossed. At last, however, some brave men ventured out alone into the wilderness beyond. They found there were valleys between the mountains, and through these they passed to the other side. They often had to hide from the watchful Indians, not daring even to make camp-fires lest they should be discovered.

These explorers found that on the other side of the Appalachian Mountains, for that was the name given to them, was a beautiful country, richer by far than that on the eastern side where they had been living. There were also many rivers flowing westward, making the soil rich and fertile. Forests of maple and elm trees, as well as pines, spruces, and oaks which were abundant along the coast, were to be seen there.