And to this day these stars still dance and twinkle in the heavens--and this is the Indian legend of their origin. We call these stars the Pleiades, but the Indians call them “The Stars That Dance.” THE PUKWUDJEE AND THE MORNING STAR (Ojibwa) ONCE upon a time, in the Indian country, two children were left alone in a village. All the other people had gone to a far-away country. The sister, who was the older, thought, “I must take good care of my baby brother,” though she was not much more than a baby herself. And this she did. She cooked food for him, and she made him little moccasins, and crooned a song for him when it was time for him to sleep. She grew up rapidly, but the baby brother seemed scarcely to grow at all. He became strong and sturdy, however, though he was so small a mite. The sister watched over him carefully, and as soon as he could run about she made him a tiny bow and arrows, and taught him how to shoot. At the same time she hung a shell about his neck, for a charm, and she named him He-of-the-Little-Shell. For all his small size, he soon learned to use the bow and arrow, and his aim was very true. He brought home birds and squirrels for food, and after a time he was able to bring down bigger game, so that they fared very well. But He-of-the-Little-Shell did not grow. When he stood beside his sister he looked no bigger than a squirrel. While the boy was out hunting, his sister busied herself about their lodge, but she looked often toward the east, for she loved the clouds and the sky and the morning sun. She was always outside the lodge in the early morning, that she might watch the sunrise, for she thought the eastern sky more beautiful than any other part of the heavens. So the two lived on very happily, for the little brother was a merry fellow, full of tricks and mischief. One morning, as he was hunting, he saw a man fishing for beaver through a hole in the ice. He watched him, and when the man had caught several he loaded them upon a sled which he drew away. He-of-the-Little-Shell followed. He ran up close to the load and, with a slash of his shell, cut off the tail of one of the beavers, and ran away home with it. For several days he played the same trick, and the man was very much puzzled to know how it was that one of his beavers always lost its tail before he reached home. At length He-of-the-Little-Shell followed the man home, and when the beavers were unloaded he stepped out and spoke to the man. The hunter was astonished to see so tiny a fellow. “Is it you who has cut my beavers’ tails?” he asked. “Yes,” answered He-of-the-Little-Shell. “I have a mind to kill you!” exclaimed the hunter, angrily. “Oh, but you could not do it,” said the boy quickly, and before the man could think, he had disappeared.