Story of the Humming Bird

"Story of the Humming Bird" by Julia Darrow Cowles is a beautifully illustrated children's book that explores the fascinating life and characteristics of hummingbirds. Through poetic language and engaging storytelling, Cowles captures the vibrant essence of these tiny, remarkable birds, highlighting their unique behaviors, colorful plumage, and remarkable ability to hover in mid-air. The book aims to inspire a sense of wonder and appreciation for nature, making it a perfect introduction to the world of birds for young readers.

• Children
• Short story

								
“SEE!” said the Indian grandfather, as he sat in the opening of his
tepee. “See the little Fire Bird! How swiftly it darts! Now it drinks
honey from the flowers. How fast its wings move!”

A little Indian boy stood quietly at his grandfather’s side. “I see
the fire on its throat,” he said softly, and then, as the bird darted
away, he begged, “Tell me the story of the little Fire Bird,
grandfather. I like the story.”

Then the grandfather told this tale, which his grandfather had told to
him:

Long, long ago the Indian people lived in a country where it was cold,
and the snow fell for many, many days. The falling snow covered the
tracks of the forest children, so the hunters could find little meat.
Many times the Indian children cried to the Great Spirit for warmth,
and for better hunting.

Far to the west of the Indian village there was a high mountain; and
often the people watched the red sun as he sank from sight beyond the
mountain, and all the sky was filled with brightness.

One night a little child went running about the tepees calling, “Come,
come; see the sun! See the sun!”

The people looked toward the west. All the sky was bright; and they
said, “The sun is touching the mountain top.”

But the brightness did not fade away as they watched. Instead, while
darkness fell all about the village, the red fire burned brighter and
brighter at the top of the mountain. The people cried, “The sun is
resting. He does not move. He does not sink behind the mountain!” Then
they were frightened, for they knew not what to think.

All night they watched, and still the bright light shone above the
mountain top. It flashed, and threw fiery darts far into the heavens;
and the Indians said, “The sun is angry. Perhaps he will destroy the
earth’s children.”

Then their wonder grew as far away in the east a light began to glow.
It grew brighter and brighter,--and then the sun arose on the eastern
horizon! The people knew then that the light upon the mountain was not
the light of the sun.

“There is fire in the mountain,” they cried, “and fire is warm. It
is beckoning to us with its hands. Let us move nearer to the fire
mountain. It will not be so cold there.”

So the people of the village marched westward toward the mountain. The
bright light had gone, but a cloud of smoke hung above it.

For several days they journeyed, and at last they reached the foot of
the mountain, and there they camped.

Then two of their bravest warriors climbed up the mountain, until they
came to its very top, and there they looked down into a great opening,
shaped like a mammoth bowl, and it was full of fire! Then they
hastened down and told the people.

The people rejoiced, and said, “The fire in the mountain will keep us
warm. It will be good to live here.” And they made them a new village
at the foot of the mountain.

For many moons the people dwelt there, hunting and fishing, making
their beads and moccasins. Then one day a strange noise was heard. It
was as though the mountain coughed--a great, hoarse, rumbling cough,
like that of some huge giant.

The people stood still and listened! There was another sound like the
first, but heavier, more convulsive.

Then a great flash of fire shot up from the mountain top, and fell
again. Then another, and another, and each time the fire leaped
higher.

“Let us run!” cried the people. “Let us run!” Even as they spoke there
was a great burst of fire and smoke, and huge stones were thrown high
in the air, and a stream came pouring down the side of the mountain--a
stream that looked like liquid fire.

Then the Indians ran, indeed, and there was no time to save anything
but their own lives!

Many streams followed the first one, coming like fiery serpents down
the mountain side, and above were heavy smoke clouds, shot with
bursting rocks.

Far away the Indian people ran, crying, “The Fire Spirit is angry!
What have we done that he should destroy our homes?”

At last they stopped, and turned to look back at the fire mountain.
The flames were gone: only a cloud of smoke hung about. But the fiery
streams had burned all that was in their way; and rocks and ashes had
buried what the fire streams had not destroyed.

Then the people prayed to the Great Spirit, and as the Great Spirit
looked down upon the mountain and saw what destruction had been
wrought, he said, “Your flames shall be put out; your fires shall be
quenched.” And even as the Great Spirit spoke, the fires grew ashen in
color, and the flames trembled and sank away.

But in the center of the great bowl of the mountain, where the fires
had been, one little flame hung quivering. The Great Spirit saw it,
and he said, “Little flame, you alone shall stay. But I will give to
you a new form. You shall have wings, and live among the earth’s
people, and drink the honey of its flowers. Little flame, you shall
carry the color of the fire upon your throat. You shall be known as
the Humming Bird, and every child will love you.”
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