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Waheenee; An Indian Girl's Story

Waheenee

ISBN 10: 1235382036 / ISBN 13: 9781235382031
Published by RareBooksClub.com, 2012
Used Condition: Good
From Better World Books (Mishawaka, IN, U.S.A.)

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About this Item

Former Library book. Shows some signs of wear, and may have some markings on the inside. Bookseller Inventory # GRP83340793

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Bibliographic Details

Title: Waheenee; An Indian Girl's Story

Publisher: RareBooksClub.com

Publication Date: 2012

Book Condition:Good

About this title

Synopsis:

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1921 Excerpt: ... the air as he prayed to the eagle spirits. After doing so he was sure to catch many young golden eagles at his eagle pit. We thought him a great medicine man. Bear Man had a son named Sacred-RedEagle-Wing, a straight-limbed, rather goodlooking lad, a year older than myself. Bear Man's father died, and Bear Man cut off his long hair in mourning. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing made a switch of his father's hair, tastefully spotting it with little lumps of spruce gum mixed with red ochre. He looked quite manly, I thought, wearing this switch, in spite of his fifteen years. My father's earth lodge and Bear Man's both faced eastward, with the lodge of Blue Paint's family standing between; but, as I stood at my father's lodge entrance, I could see the flat top of Bear Man's lodge over Blue Paint's roof. Sacred-RedEagle-Wing had joined the Stone Hammer Society a short while before, and had begun to paint his face like a young man. He would get up on his father's roof, painted, and decked out in hair switch, best leggings, and moccasins, and sing his society's songs. He had a fine voice, I thought; and when I went out with my buck-brush broom to sweep the ground about our lodge entrance, Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing would sing harder than ever. I thought perhaps he did this so that I would hear him. I was too wellbred to look up at him, but I did not always hurry to finish my sweeping. There had been plenty of rain, and the June berry trees were now loaded with ripe fruit. We Indians set great store by these berries, and almost every family dried one or more sackfuls for winter. June berries are sweet, and, as we had no sugar, we were fond of them. We were sitting one evening at our supper. Red Blossom had gone into the woods earlier in the day and fetched home some ripe June ber...

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