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Updated: May 17, 2025
In the nest there were a dozen of the daintiest, downiest, little creatures he had ever seen. They were scarcely bigger than an acorn. "They surely are a fine brood," said he. "Aren't you afraid that something will catch them?" "Of course I am afraid. I'm always afraid." said Mother Mit-chee, "but the creature that catches them will have to be pretty sharp.
"If you will come to-morrow," said she, one day, "I'll show you as fine a brood of partridge chicks as anyone could wish to see." "I'll be sure to come," answered the little boy, "for I want to see them very much." As he came up the next day, Mother Mit-chee stepped off her nest. "There," said she, "there they are. Now aren't they fine ones?" The little boy looked.
Pretty soon Mother Mit-chee sailed around through the woods and dropped to the ground but a little way from the boy. She seemed to have been hurt, badly hurt. One wing dragged as if it was broken, and she limped sadly. "Ha, ha," laughed the little boy, "you can't fool me with that trick. You needn't keep it up any longer, I shan't follow you. I know that you are not hurt at all.
There in a half circle around him sat a strange company the strangest he had ever seen. There was Mo-neen the Woodchuck, Unk-wunk the Hedgehog, A-pe-ka the Polecat, Wa-poose the Rabbit, A-bal-ka the Chipmunk, Tav-wots the Cottontail, Mic-ka the Coon, and Shin-ga the Gray Squirrel. At one end of the line stood Mit-chee the Partridge, Ko-leen-o the Quail, and O-he-la the Woodcock.
As the little boy watched him, he thought that perhaps the sound was made by Father Mit-chee's wings striking together over his back. When he saw Mother Mit-chee coming, he walked up and down the log very proudly. Then he stopped and drummed louder than ever. "Well," said Mother Mit-chee, "so you've come back at last, have you? Here are your children.
"Oh," said Mother Mit-chee, "that is our way of giving thanks to the Master of Life for the cool, sweet water. Our family learned to do it a long time ago, and we have always done it since." "That sounds as if there might be a story about it," said the little boy, who was always on the watch for stories. "Well," said Mother Mit-chee, "there is a story about it."
It was fun for the little boy to watch them. Nearly the whole dozen would clip their little bills into the water at once, and raise their heads to swallow it, as they had seen their mother do. "Mother Mit-chee," said the little boy, after they had all finished drinking, "what makes you raise your head before you swallow the water?"
"That is a strange story," said the little boy. "I thank you for telling it. But now I must go home. Good-bye for to-day." A few days later little Luke went up into the woods again. As he walked along the trail, he heard Father Mit-chee drumming. He knew where the drumming log was, so he went over to it and sat down on one end.
So he had made a canoe exactly like a nest, perfectly round. When the honest feathered folk saw this, they were greatly amazed and wondered that so simple a thing had not occurred to all of them. "But when Mit-chee got into his new canoe and began to paddle, their wonder turned into amusement, for he made no headway at all. However hard he worked, the canoe simply turned round and round.
He's the boy who found the Magic Flower, and learned the animal talk." That was the way little Luke came to know Father Mit-chee. "Father Mit-Chee," said little Luke one day as the two were sitting together on the drumming log, "can't you tell me a story?" "Why, yes," said Father Mit-chee, "I suppose I might, I might tell you the story of the first partridge."
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