Why the Monkey Still Has a Tail – Brazilian Fairy Tales

Once upon a time the monkey and the rabbit made a contract. The monkey was to kill all the butterflies and the rabbit was to kill all the snakes.

Once upon a time the monkey and the rabbit made a contract. The monkey was to kill all the butterflies and the rabbit was to kill all the snakes.

One often hears the saying that one cannot make black white or white black. I said something about it once upon a time to my Brazilian ama and she stared at me in surprise.

Once upon a time there was a father with three sons who had reached the age when they must go out into the world to earn their own living.

Once upon a time there was a little princess who lived in a magnificent royal palace.

In Brazil the beetles have such beautifully coloured, hard-shelled coats upon their backs that they are often set in pins and necklaces like precious stones.

All children who live close to Mother Earth come to know and to see the fairies of the flowers, the woods, the rocks, and the waters.

Some wolves and panthers were chasing a bull that had been feeding in the valley near the woods.

In the days when there was no one living in this country but the Indians, there were no houses; there were only Indian wigwams.

The dog is the Indian's best friend. He is the comrade by day and the protector by night. As long as the Indian's dog has strength, he will fight for his friend.

After the Great Spirit had made the Red Children and had given them this beautiful land in which to live, he sent them a great gift,—the gift of the corn.

Once a tribe of the Iroquois became very warlike and cruel. They liked to follow the warpath rather than the hunting trails.

Flying Squirrel and Lightning Bow were two little Indian boys. They lived by Singing River, and they played from sunrise to sunset. They were as happy as the day was long.

At one time, the animals had tribes and chiefs, like men. It was when the porcupine was chief, that a council was called.

A great many winters ago, there lived at the foot of a certain lake a tribe of wicked Indians. These Indians were so fierce, and warlike, and wasteful, they went about destroying everything.

Once upon a time, the Great Spirit left the Happy Hunting Ground and came to earth. He took the form of a poor, hungry man. He went from wigwam to wigwam, asking for food.

An Indian woman built a wigwam in the deep wood. She was a brave woman. She had no fear.

Long ago, birds, trees, animals, and men knew each the language of the other, and all could talk together.

It was some moons after the coon outwitted the fox, before they again met. The coon was hurrying by, when the fox saw him.

A wise old raccoon sat up in a tree near the river where the bear lost his tail. The coon saw the fox play his foxy trick on the bear, and he did not like it.

The land was lean and hungry. The Old Man of the North Lodge had breathed upon the valley. His breath had frozen the corn, and there was no bread for the people.