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PAGE 2

Why The Night-Hawk’s Wings Are Beautiful
by [?]

“Back he went and found the stone. Then he pulled the robe away, and wrapped it about himself. Ho! but that made the stone angry–Ho! OLD-man started to run down the hill, and the stone ran after him. Ho! it was a funny race they made, over the grass, over smaller stones, and over logs that lay in the way, but OLD-man managed to keep ahead until he stubbed his toe on a big sage-brush, and fell–swow!

“‘Now I have you!’ cried the stone–‘now I’ll kill you, too! Now I will teach you to give presents and then take them away,’ and the stone rolled right on top of OLD-man, and sat on his back.

“It was a big stone, you see, and OLD-man couldn’t move it at all. He tried to throw off the stone but failed. He squirmed and twisted–no use–the stone held him fast. He called the stone some names that are not good; but that never helps any. At last he began to call:

“‘Help!–Help!–Help!’ but nobody heard him except the Night-hawk, and he told the OLD-man that he would help him all he could; so he flew away up in the air–so far that he looked like a black speck. Then he came down straight and struck that rock an awful blow–‘swow!’–and broke it in two pieces. Indeed he did. The blow was so great that it spoiled the Night-hawk’s bill, forever–made it queer in shape, and jammed his head, so that it is queer, too. But he broke the rock, and OLD-man stood upon his feet.

“‘Thank you, Brother Night-hawk,’ said OLD-man, ‘now I will do something for you. I am going to make you different from other birds–make you so people will always notice you.’

“You know that when you break a rock the powdered stone is white, like snow; and there is always some of the white powder whenever you break a rock, by pounding it. Well, Old-man took some of the fine powdered stone and shook it on the Night-hawk’s wings in spots and stripes–made the great white stripes you have seen on his wings, and told him that no other bird could have such marks on his clothes.

“All the Night-hawk’s children dress the same way now; and they always will as long as there are Night-hawks. Of course their clothes make them proud; and that is why they keep at flying over people’s heads–soaring and dipping and turning all the time, to show off their pretty wings.

“That is all for to-night. Muskrat, tell your father I would run Buffalo with him tomorrow–Ho!”