LEGEND OF THE OWL 



(ESKIMO) 



IN the old days when mortals were sometimes changed 

 into other creatures if they happened to do anything 

 to displease certain wicked fairies who seemed to be 

 always conveniently near and ready to take offense, a wise 

 and beautiful maiden did something to incur the enmity of 

 one of these powerful beings and was immediately changed 

 by her into a bird. 



The once beautiful nose of the maiden became a hard 

 beak; her eyes grew round with fright; the tender nails 

 on her feet became long and homy and hooked; while from 

 every pore in her body graying feathers started. Worst 

 of all she knew that the spell east over her could never be 

 broken; she must remain as she was for all time — she and 

 her children's children. 



Blind with terror, she flew frantically and aimlessly 

 about for hours, heedless of everything save her awful condi- 

 tion. Her wild wandering continued till, striking with great 

 force against the hard ice-built wall of an igloo, her homy 

 beak was bent and her face flattened by the blow. A cry of 

 agony escaped her — a cry oft repeated through the night — 

 a cry which henceforth was to be her only means of expres- 

 sion; and though she had the feet and feathers and wings 

 of a bird, she still had the face of a mortal — flattened and 

 with affrighted eyes. 



From that day to this, she and her descendants, who 

 could not be even as other birds, ashamed of their bent noses 

 and flattened faces, have hidden themselves, making their 

 homes in hollow trees, or in lonely bams or belfries, going 

 abroad only in the darkness, out of which sometimes come 

 their ghostly, boding cries to warn us of its dangers. 



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