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One morning, having come to the field quite early, I grew tired of my play before my grandmother had ended her work. “I want to go home,” I begged, and I began to cry. Just then a strange bird flew into the field. It had a long curved beak, and made a queer cry, cur-lew, cur-lew.
I stopped weeping. My grandmother laughed.
“That is a curlew,” she said.
- Author
- Waheenee--An Indian Girl's Story
By Waheenee
as told to Gilbert Livingstone Wilson
Illustrator: Frederick N. Wilson
Published in 1921
Available from gutenberg.org - Posted on
- Monday 10 January 2022
- Keywords
- America, Birds, Century:19th Century, Indigenous
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