During the early part of the nineteenth century, chiefs such as Wabashaw, Redwing, and Little Six among the eastern Sioux, Conquering Bear, Man-Afraid-of-His-Horse, and Hump of the western bands, were the last of the old type. After these, we have a coterie of new leaders, products of the new conditions brought about by close contact with the conquering race.
A King's negligence costs the Prince his eyes. How will the King make amends? A farmer is torn between resurrecting his wife and upholding his duties. What will influence his choice? A jester lives two lives - Masked for others. Unmasked for himself. His masked side brings happiness to everyone. But what brings happiness to his unmasked side? A magnificent tree bears fruits of different kinds, but the King wants it to be cut down to serve justice. How will the tree defend itself? An orphan boy is in search of the world's bestselling book. Will he eventually find it? A dog struggles to uncurl his tail. Will he break the curse that curled his tail in the first place? A young boy and his pet lamb are separated from each other. Will their friendship stand the test of time? Set in the ancient times, Fables from India, is a collection of 22 profound and unheard stories from a country known for its storytelling.
The major commanding looked up from the morning report and surveyed the post adjutant with something of perturbation, if not annoyance, in his grim, gray eyes. For the fourth time that week had Lieutenant Field requested permission to be absent for several hours. The major knew just why the junior wished to go and where. The major knew just why he wished him not to go, but saw fit to name almost any other than the real reason when, with a certain awkward hesitancy he began:"W-ell, is the post return ready?""It will be, sir, in abundant time," was the prompt reply."You know they sent it back for correction last month," hazarded the commander."And you know, sir, the error was not mine," was the instant rejoinder, so quick, sharp and positive as to carry it at a bound to the verge of disrespect, and the keen, blue eyes of the young soldier gazed, frank and fearless, into the heavily ambushed grays of the veteran in the chair. It made the latter wince and stir uneasily."If there's one thing I hate, Field, it is to have my papers sent back by some whipsnapper of a clerk, inviting attention to this or that error, and I expect my adjutant to see to it that they don't.""Your adjutant does see to it, sir. I'm willing to bet a month's pay fewer errors have been found in the papers of Fort Frayne than any post in the Department of the Platte. General Williams told you as much when you were in Omaha."
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