23.1.10

__ THE CROW PEOPLE __


". . . the sun touched the hills _ tiny animals' _ track-prints on the snow showed up, brilliant_
like drops of dew _ Not a Mouse People in sight. . . "
. . . Oriole Bird sang a new song _ about looking towards the hills_
and, Spring coming in , soon.

_" i am dreaming
_ i am myself
_ i thought i was myself
_ i am only little me ! "

Oriole laughed at his new song, HE liked it !.

_ i am funny, I AM FUNNY, real funny

Tzimo grabbed his hunting bag. " I'm leaving, Oriole Bird. I'm a Hunter.
That's all there is to it! Like it or not." Oriole Bird knew the customs of the
Crow People_ and Tzimo belonged to His People_ the difference was_
Tzimo doubted his way _ he feared he wasn't a Tough enough Crow Hunter.
He could spend a day picking fruit, gathering bay berries, sifting seeds
or planting some that would grow for the following year _ to harvest.
The thing is : Crows don't plant seeds! That's all there is to it .

Oriole looked stunned_ so surprised, he'd never seen Tzimo_ so fidgety
_ hopping from one foot unto the other. "Yuuuh," said Oriole Bird, peaceful _
like, " is going away . . . will change things _ for you?" Lately, Tzimo had been
drifting around _ an infinite amount of time_ thinking and dreaming things only
he could think or dream. Oriole thought how difficult a thing is _ like to stay still
when your best friend hurts_ so, Oriole pulled a small deer-hide bag _
from behind his back-pocket _ it was filled with roasted sunflowers seeds .
He let some drop in a little line, by Tzimo's foot.

_ Oriole Bird and Tzimo Crow
A Tale of Two Friends
Bijou Le Tord
_(c) 2010. Oriole and Tzimo is a story written by Bijou Le Tord
it is copyrighted and let to you to enjoy
not to publish or copy in any form.
You can find this story in my blog. . . almost daily!