EAGLE FEATHER'S HORSE
Bunny Brown was so excited by the Indian campfire he had seen, and by
the queer figures dancing about in the glare of it, seeming twice as
tall and broad as they really were, that he insisted on telling about it
before he went to bed.
"Did they really dance just as we do at dancing school when we're at
home?" asked Sue.
"No, not exactly," Bunny answered. "It was more like marching, and they
turned around every now and then and howled and waved ears of corn in
the air. Then they ate 'em."
"What was it for, Tom?" asked Mr. Brown. "You have lived about here
quite a while and you ought to know."
"Oh, the Indians believe in what they call the Great Spirit," Tom
explained. "They do all sorts of things so he'll like 'em, such as
making fires, dancing and having games. It's only a few of the old
Indians that do that. This green corn roast, or dance, is a sort of
prayer that there'll be lots of corn--a big crop--this year so the
Indians will have plenty to eat. For they depend a whole lot on corn
meal for bread, pancakes and the like of that. I told Bunny I'd show him
how the Indians roast the ears of green corn to-morrow, if you'd let
me."
"Oh, please, Momsie, do!"
"Oh, Daddy, let him!"
The first was Sue's plea, the second Bunny's, and the father and mother
smiled.
"Well, I think it will be all right if Tom is as careful about fire as
he is on the water," said Mr. Brown.
"Oh, goodie!" cried Sue, while Bunny smiled and danced his delight.
Finally Camp Rest-a-While was quiet, for every one was in bed and the
only noises to be heard were those made by the animals and insects of
the wood, an owl now and then calling out: "Who? Who? Who?" just as if
it were trying to find some one who was lost.
"Where'll we get the ears to roast?" asked Bunny as soon as he was up
the next morning. "We don't grow any corn in our camp."
"Oh, we can get some roasting ears from almost any of the farmers around
here," said Tom. "But we don't want to make the fire until night. It
looks prettier then."
"That's what I say," cried Sue. "And if you wait until night I'll make
some muffins to eat with the roast corn. Mother is going to show me
how."
"Well, don't put any chow-chow mince-meat in your muffins," begged Bunny
with a laugh.
"I won't," promised Sue. "But can't we do something while we're waiting
for night to come so we can roast the corn?"
"Will you put up the swing you promised to make for us, Tom?" asked
Bunny.
"Yes, if you have the rope."
"We can row across the lake in the boat to the store at the landing, and
get the rope there," said Bunny. "I'll ask my mother."
Mrs. Brown gave permission and Tom was soon making a swing, hanging it
down from a high branch of a strong oak tree. Then Bunny and Sue took
turns swinging, while Tom pushed.
After dinner they decided it was time to go for the roasting ears, and
again they were in the boat, as it was nearer to the farmer's house
across the water than by going the winding road.
Tom picked out the kind of ears he wanted, large and full of kernels in
which the milk, or white juice, was yet running. This was a corn that
ripened late, and was very good for roasting.
With the corn in one end of the boat, and the children in the stern, or
rear, where he could watch them as they moved about on the broad seat,
Tom rowed the boat toward camp. They reached it just in time for supper,
and just as Mr. Brown got home from his trip to the city.
"We're going to have roast ears of corn to-night!" called Sue as she
hugged and kissed her father.
"Oh! That makes me feel as if I were a boy!" said Mr. Brown. "Who is
going to roast the corn?"
"I am," said Tom. "I've done it many a time."
"Well, I'm glad you know how. But now let's have supper."
The children did not eat much, because they were so anxious to roast the
corn, but Tom said they must wait until dark, as the camp fire would
look prettier then.
However, it could hardly have been called dark when Tom, after much
teasing on the part of Bunny and Sue, set aglow the light twigs and
branches, which soon made the bigger logs glow.
"We have to have a lot of hot coals and embers," said Tom, "or else the
corn will smoke and burn. So we'll let the fire burn for a while until
there are a lot of red hot coals or embers of wood."
When this had come about, Tom brought out the ears, stripped the green
husks from them, and then, brushing off a smooth stone that had been
near the fire so long that it was good and hot, he placed on it the
ears of corn.
Almost at once they began to roast, turning a delicate brown, and Tom
turned them over from time to time, so they would not burn, by having
one side too near the fire too long.
"When will they be ready to eat?" asked Bunny Brown.
"In a few minutes," said Tom. "There, I guess these two are ready," and
he picked out two smoking hot ones, nicely browned, using a
sharp-pointed stick for a fork. He offered one ear to Mr. Brown and the
other to Mrs. Brown.
"No, let the children have the first ones," said their mother.
"Be careful, they're hot!" cautioned Tom, as he passed the ears on their
queer wooden sticks to Bunny and Sue.
Sue blew on hers to cool it, but Bunny was in such a hurry that he
started to eat at once. As a result he cried:
"Ouch! It's hot!"
"Be careful!" cautioned his mother, and after that Bunny was careful.
[Illustration: TOM BROUGHT OUT THE EARS AND STRIPPED THE GREEN HUSKS
FROM THEM.
_Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue in the Big Woods._ _Page_ 195.]
Soon two more ears were roasted, and these Mr. and Mrs. Brown took. They
waited a bit for them to cool, and then began to eat slowly.
"They are delicious," said Mrs. Brown.
"This is the only way to cook green corn," remarked Uncle Tad.
"It's the best I've eaten since I was a boy," declared Mr. Brown. "We
shall have to have some more, Tom."
"Yes, I'll cook some more for you. Parched corn is good, too. The
Indians like that. You have to wait until the ears are nearly ripe for
that, though, and the kernels dried."
"Aren't you going to eat any, Tom?" Bunny asked, as he took the ear the
bigger boy handed him.
"Oh, yes, I'll have some now, if you've had all you want."
"Well, maybe I'll eat more," said Bunny.
"And I want another," put in Sue.
"There's plenty here," said Tom, as he began to eat. Almost as he spoke
there was a crackling of the leaves and sticks behind the embers of the
roast-corn party, and before any one could turn around to see what it
was a voice spoke:
"White folks make heap good meal same as Indians."
"That's right, Eagle Feather," called back Tom, who did not seem to be
so much taken by surprise as did the others. "Come and have some. What
brings you here?"
"Eagle Feather lose him horse," was the answer. "Come look for him.
Maybe you hab?" and he squatted down beside the campfire and accepted a
roasted ear that Tom handed him.
"What does this mean about Eagle Feather's horse being _here_?" asked
Mr. Brown.
"Me tell you 'bout a minute," answered the Indian, gnawing away at the
corn.