The Festival Of The Little People (Eleventh Evening)

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Title:     The Festival Of The Little People (Eleventh Evening)
Author: Charles Alexander Eastman [More Titles by Eastman]

ELEVENTH EVENING

"You are late to-night, my grandchildren," grumbles the good old wife of Smoky Day, as she stands in front of her low doorway, peering under the folds of her dark blanket at the little toiling figures slowly coming nearer, and the many twinkling lights across the snow.

"My mother gave a feast to-day," murmurs Tanagela, in her soft voice. "There were so many people for us to serve--I could not come any sooner! But see, grandmother! I have brought you some boiled rice and venison," she ends, proudly bringing out the heavy kettle from under her skin robe as they enter the well-smoked lodge.

"Ah, ah!" exclaims the story-teller, whose old eyes brighten at the sight of the good food. "We are to feast to-night, it seems; therefore I shall tell you of a feast and what came after."

THE FESTIVAL OF THE LITTLE PEOPLE

The big voice of the Bumble-Bee was heard in every nook and corner of the wood, and from end to end of the deep valley, for Unktomee, the generous, was giving a feast, and the Bee was his herald, the crier of the day.

"Ho, every creeper, every buzzer, all ye little people who fly without feathers, come this day to the festival!" boomed the Bee. "All must prepare to exhibit their best skill; the Toad, who can neither fly nor run, his brother the Bullfrog, with his band of musicians, and even the Flying-squirrel with the rest. Tanagela, the Humming-bird, will be the judge of beauty, and the Bat will judge your skilful performance in the air. That wise medicine-man, the Serpent, will also be there!"

So Unktomee's herald made the cedar-fringed gulches and pine-scented hilltops fairly hum with his call.

It was in July, the Moon of Black Cherries, and the Little People gathered in great numbers at the place of the Singing Waterfall, which had been chosen for the meeting-place. The happy valley buzzed with their million voices.

Then Unktomee, the prudent, saw fit to appoint certain warriors to keep order at the festival. For many were present, therefore mishap or injustice might be.

The Wolf was ordered to watch upon the surrounding hills, so that no enemy should come near; and the Owl was appointed to keep order within the camp, and especially to see that neither the Bat, the Night-hawk nor the Swallow tribe were permitted to disturb the little insect people.

The day opened well, with a chorus of praise from the great orchestra--a sunrise song, opened by Ta-she-ya-ka, the Meadow-lark, in which even the crickets joined, with their slender instruments.

Then came the contest of beauty, in which the Butterflies, in their gauzy dresses of every color, won the first prize. The Bat, however, who was to judge of feats on the wing, had slyly made a meal of some of the lesser contestants. The Owl swooped down upon him to punish him, and there was great confusion.

Unktomee could do nothing with his guests. The Toad began to devour the smaller creepers, the Snake attacked the Toad, and even the Wolf came down from his station on the hills to make a raid upon the helpless Little People. Thus began the warfare and preying among these feeble tribes that has lasted to this day.

It is not wise to put the strong in authority over the weak.

[The end]
Charles Alexander Eastman's short story: Festival Of The Little People (eleventh Evening)

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