them?" thought a brave warrior, and he said, "I will find the
magician, and see if death will not come to him as he has made it come
to others. I will go straightway to his home."
For many days the brave warrior was in his canoe traveling across the
Black-Sea-Water. At last he saw the gloomy wigwam of the cruel
magician. He shot an arrow at the door and called, "Come out, O
coward! You have killed women and children with your fatal breath,
but you cannot kill a warrior. Come out and fight, if you are not afraid."
The cruel magician laughed loud and long. "One breath of fever," he
said, "and you will fall to the earth." The warrior shot again, and then
the magician was angry. He did not laugh, but he came straight out of
his gloomy lodge, and as he came, he blew the fever all about him.
Then was seen the greatest fight that the sun had ever looked upon. The
brave warrior shot his flint-tipped arrows, but the magician had on his
magic cloak, and the arrows could not wound him. He blew from his
nostrils the deadly breath of fever, but the heart of the warrior was so
strong that the fever could not kill him.
At last the brave warrior had but three arrows in his quiver. "What shall
I do?" he said sadly. "My arrows are good and my aim is good, but no
arrow can go through the magic cloak."
"Come on, come on," called the magician. "You are the man who
wished to fight. Come on." Then a woodpecker in a tree above the
brave warrior said softly, "Aim your arrow at his head, O warrior! Do
not shoot at his heart, but at the crest of feathers on his head. He can be
wounded there, but not in his heart."
The warrior was not so proud that he could not listen to a little bird.
The magician bent to lift a stone, and an arrow flew from the warrior's
bow. It buzzed and stung like a wasp. It came so close to the crest of
feathers that the magician trembled with terror. Before he could run,
another arrow came, and this one struck him right on his crest. His
heart grew cold with fear. "Death has struck me," he cried.
"Your cruel life is over," said the warrior. "People shall no longer fear
your fatal breath." Then he said to the woodpecker, "Little bird, you
have been a good friend to me, and I will do all that I can for you." He
put some of the red blood of the magician upon the little creature's head.
It made the crest of feathers there as red as flame. "Whenever a man
looks upon you," said the warrior, "he will say, 'That bird is our friend.
He helped to kill the cruel magician.'"
The little woodpecker was very proud of his red crest because it
showed that he was the friend of man, and all his children to this day
are as proud as he was.
[Illustration]
WHY THE CAT ALWAYS FALLS UPON HER FEET.
Some magicians are cruel, but others are gentle and good to all the
creatures of the earth. One of these good magicians was one day
traveling in a great forest. The sun rose high in the heavens, and he lay
down at the foot of a tree. Soft, green moss grew all about him. The sun
shining through the leaves made flecks of light and shadow upon the
earth. He heard the song of the bird and the lazy buzz of the wasp. The
wind rustled the leafy boughs above him. All the music of the forest
lulled him to slumber, and he closed his eyes.
As the magician lay asleep, a great serpent came softly from the thicket.
It lifted high its shining crest and saw the man at the foot of the tree. "I
will kill him!" it hissed. "I could have eaten that cat last night if he had
not called, 'Watch, little cat, watch!' I will kill him, I will kill him!"
Closer and closer the deadly serpent moved. The magician stirred in his
sleep. "Watch, little cat, watch!" he said softly. The serpent drew back,
but the magician's eyes were shut, and it went closer. It hissed its
war-cry. The sleeping magician did not move. The serpent was upon
him--no, far up in the high branches of the tree above his head the little
cat lay hidden. She had seen the serpent when it came from the thicket.
[Illustration: SHE LEAPED DOWN UPON THE SERPENT]
She watched it as it went closer and closer to the sleeping man, and she
heard it hiss its war-cry. The little cat's
![](qr/7412/5.png)
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.