Good Bird had prepared the evening meal, but no one came to eat it. Her husband, Fleet Deer, was late in returning from the hunt, and her little son was still shouting and running with his boy playmates.

The tired baby slept, and the two women sat outside the wigwam in the warm June evening.

"Now that I have a little daughter, I must learn all your stories, Nokomis," said Good Bird. "Suppose you tell one while we wait."

"I heard a new one last moon," answered Nokomis. "Our village story-teller has traveled far from our camp. He visited another tribe and heard all their stories. I will tell you the tale he told about the first strawberries:

"In the very earliest times a young girl became so angry one day that she ran away from home. Her family followed her, calling and grieving; but she would not answer their calls, nor even turn her head.

"The great sun looked down with pity from the sky and tried to settle the quarrel. First he caused a patch of ripe blueberries to grow in her path.

"The girl pushed her way through the low bushes without stooping to pick a berry.

"Further on the sun made juicy blackberries grow by the trail, but the runaway paid no attention to them."Then low trees laden with the purple June berry tempted her, but still she hurried on.

"Every kind of berry that the sun had ever helped to grow, he placed in her path to cause delay, but without success.

"The girl still pressed on until she saw clusters of large ripe strawberries growing in the grass at her feet.

"She stooped to pick and to eat. Then she turned and saw that she was followed.

"Forgetting her anger, she gathered the clusters of ripe, red berries and started back along the path to share them with her family.

"Then she went home as if nothing had ever happened!"