Select the desired text size
Age suitability 8 Plus
First humming bird.
From The Book of Nature Myths by Florence Holbrook.
PART I. THE GREAT FIRE-MOUNTAIN.
Start of Story
Long, long ago, when the earth was very young, two hunters were
traveling through the forest. They had been on the track of a deer for
many days, and they were now far away from the village where they lived.
The sun went down and night came on. It was dark and gloomy, but over in
the western sky there came a bright light.
"It is the moon," said one.
"No," said the other. "We have watched many and many a night to see the
great, round moon rise above the trees. That is not the moon. Is it the
"No, the northern lights are not like this, and it is not a comet. What
can it be?"
It is no wonder that the hunters were afraid, for the flames flared red
over the sky like a wigwam on fire. Thick, blue smoke floated above the
flames and hid the shining stars.
"Do the flames and smoke come from the wigwam of the Great Spirit?"
"I fear that he is angry with his children, and that the flames are his
fiery war-clubs," whispered the other. No sleep came to their eyes. All
night long they watched and wondered, and waited in terror for the
When morning came, the two hunters were still watching the sky. Little
by little they saw that there was a high mountain in the west where the
light had been, and above the mountain floated a dark blue smoke.
"Come," said one, "we will go and see what it is."
They walked and walked till they came close to the mountain, and then
they saw fire shining through the seams of the rocks. "It is a mountain
of fire," one whispered. "Shall we go on?" "We will," said the other,
and they went higher and higher up the mountain. At last they stood upon
its highest point. "Now we know the secret," they cried. "Our people
will be glad when they hear this."
Swiftly they went home through the forest to their own village. "We have
found a wonder," they cried. "We have found the home of the Fire Spirit.
We know where she keeps her flames to help the Great Spirit and his
children. It is a mountain of fire. Blue smoke rises above it night and
day, for its heart is a fiery sea, and on the sea the red flames leap
and dance. Come with us to the wonderful mountain of fire."
The people of the village had been cold in the winter nights, and they
cried, "O brothers, your words are good. We will move our lodges to the
foot of the magic mountain. We can light our wigwam fires from its
flames, and we shall not fear that we shall perish in the long, cold
nights of winter."
So the Indians went to live at the foot of the fire-mountain, and when
the cold nights came, they said, "We are not cold, for the Spirit of
Fire is our good friend, and she keeps her people from perishing."
Part 2 The frolic of the flame.
For many and many a moon the people of the village lived at the foot of
the great fire-mountain. On summer evenings, the children watched the
light, and when a child asked, "Father, what makes it?" the father said,
"That is the home of the Great Spirit of Fire, who is our good friend."
Then all in the little village went to sleep and lay safely on their
beds till the coming of the morning.
But one night when all the people in the village were asleep, the flames
in the mountain had a great frolic. They danced upon the sea of fire as
warriors dance the war-dance. They seized great rocks and threw them at
the sky. The smoke above them hid the stars; the mountain throbbed and
trembled. Higher and still higher sprang the dancing flames. At last,
they leaped clear above the highest point of the mountain and started
down it in a river of red fire. Then the gentle Spirit of Fire called,
"Come back, my flames, come back again! The people in the village will
not know that you are in a frolic, and they will be afraid."
The flames did not heed her words, and the river of fire ran on and on,
straight down the mountain. The flowers in its pathway perished. It
leaped upon great trees and bore them to the earth. It drove the birds
from their nests, and they fluttered about in the thick smoke. It hunted
the wild creatures of the forest from the thickets where they hid, and
they fled before it in terror.
At last, one of the warriors in the village awoke. The thick smoke was
in his nostrils. In his ears was the war-cry of the flames. He sprang to
the door of his lodge and saw the fiery river leaping down the mountain.
"My people, my people," he cried, "the flames are upon us!" With cries
of fear the people in the village fled far away into the forest, and the
flames feasted upon the homes they loved.
The two hunters went to look upon the mountain, and when they came back,
they said sadly, "There are no flowers on the mountain. Not a bird-song
did we hear. Not a living creature did we see. It is all dark and
gloomy. We know the fire is there, for the blue smoke still floats up to
the sky, but the mountain will never again be our friend."
Part 3 The bird of flame
When the Great Spirit saw the work of the flames, he was very angry.
"The fires of this mountain must perish," he said. "No longer shall its
red flames light the midnight sky."
The mountain trembled with fear at the angry words of the Great Spirit.
"O father of all fire and light," cried the Fire Spirit, "I know that
the flames have been cruel. They killed the beautiful flowers and drove
your children from their homes, but for many, many moons they heeded my
words and were good and gentle. They drove the frost and cold of winter
from the wigwams of the village. The little children laughed to see
their red light in the sky. The hearts of your people will be sad, if
the flames must perish from the earth."
The Great Spirit listened to the words of the gentle Spirit of Fire, but
he answered, "The fires must perish. They have been cruel to my people,
and the little children will fear them now; but because the children
once loved them, the beautiful colors of the flames shall still live to
make glad the hearts of all who look upon them."
Then the Great Spirit struck the mountain with his magic war-club. The
smoke above it faded away; its fires grew cold and dead. In its dark and
gloomy heart only one little flame still trembled. It looked like a
star. How beautiful it was!
The Great Spirit looked upon the little flame. He saw that it was
beautiful and gentle, and he loved it. "The fires of the mountain must
perish," he said, "but you little, gentle flame, shall have wings and
fly far away from the cruel fires, and all my children will love you as
I do." Swiftly the little thing rose above the mountain and flew away in
the sunshine. The light of the flames was still on its head; their
marvelous colors were on its wings.
So from the mountain's heart of fire sprang the first humming-bird. It
is the bird of flame, for it has all the beauty of the colors of the
flame, but it is gentle, and every child in all the earth loves it and
is glad to see it fluttering over the flowers.