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Little Daisy And The Sun Stone
Little Daisy And The Sun Stone
Little Daisy And The Sun Stone
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Little Daisy And The Sun Stone

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The story takes place 40,000 years ago, just after the installation of the first men (ancestors of Indians) in North America.
Little Daisy has just celebrated its twelfth summer. One morning, on returning to her village, she discovers that all inhabitants are petrified. Only the grandmother, Mother Of The Tribe, can still speak. Before she freezes, she tells her that a sorcerer has cast a spell on the Inikawas to change them into stone statues. There is only one way to break the spell : bring back the Sun Stone, a crystal found on top of the West Moutains.
For this she must cross the great prairie
But the wild beasts are not the only dangers of the prairie. There is an another much more brutal threat.
However, Little Daisy has an incomparable asset: a tough tenacity.
She will cross many obstacles in order to deliver her own, aided by her courage and knowledge of nature and the hunt from her people.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherPatrick Huet
Release dateAug 26, 2017
ISBN9781370092826
Little Daisy And The Sun Stone
Author

Patrick Huet

Patrick Huet est l'auteur d'un nombre considérable d'ouvrages. Des romans, souvent dans le domaine de l'aventure et de "l'Héroic Fantasy". Mais aussi des contes pour enfants, des recueils de poésie, des documentaires, des essais et des livres de voyage. Il est connu pour avoir longé entièrement à pied le Rhône, la Saône et la Seine depuis leur source jusqu'à leur embouchure. Ce qui donna lieu à la publication d'ouvrages comme "Le Rhône à pied du glacier à la mer" ou "La Seine à pied de la source à la mer". De même, il fit la Une des médias après avoir composé un poème acrostiche d'un kilomètre de long, à l'origine sur un rouleau de tissu, et désormais disponible dans un livre "Des parcelles d'espoir à l'écho de ce monde". Pour les enfants, vous découvrirez avec plaisir les aventures de Clémentine la petite savante, de Tomy le petit magicien, ou encore les aventures d'Archibald le grillon dans le livre "A la recherche du pays des tortues jaunes".

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    Little Daisy And The Sun Stone - Patrick Huet

    Little Daisy And The Sun Stone

    Author : Patrick Huet

    Copyright

    © Patrick Huet 2017

    All rights reserved.

    Author of the tale : Patrick Huet.

    The cover is a composition of Patrick Huet and a picture of Bykst.

    Published by : Smashwords edition. August 26th, 2017.

    This book is licensed for your personnal enjoyment. It may not be se-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share it with another person, please purchase and additional copy to each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the work of the author.

    All rights reserved.

    Patrick Huet 73 rue Duquesne 69006 Lyon – France.

    www.patrick-huet.fr

    Tel. (33) 06 99 71 69 69

    Note.

    Little Daisy is the name of the heroine of a series of novels that are located at the time of the first Indians of North America.

    She is the main character and is confronted with amazing adventures.

    Aged a dozen years, she is the most gifted of its tribe (descendants of families having fled the kingdom of Atlantis). Her vitality, her sense of justice and initiative make her an intrepid heroin who confronts the greatest perils.

    The universe of these novels : adventure and fantasy.

    Begining of the tale.

    Little Daisy And The Sun Stone.

    The legend of the first Indians.

    THE MISSION.

    The flat stone leapt over the water, twice ricocheting before landing near a sleepy frog on a large water lily. The frog jumped, frightened and plunged comfortably into the water. A crystalline laugh rose.

    Not far away, a little girl laughed cheerfully. She had recently celebrated her twelfth summer, and in her black eyes shone the brilliance of innocence. Her very long and very brown hair was tied with a thin strip of linen with geometric motifs. His dress was simple: a bodice and a fringed suede skirt.

    The frog peered curiously out of the water. Again, the laughter of Little Daisy scattered around sylvery notes.

    Do not be afraid, sister frog, I do not want you any harm. You can go back on the water lily.

    The batrachian did not take these declarations into account. It thought it better to go away. When he jumped on the bank in the middle of the reeds, Little Daisy had already forgotten it. She picked up other stones flat enough to ricochet wonderfully over the water. She beat her own record, with a single shot she made more than fifteen rebounds. Never seen ! Even the most skilful boys of his tribe (the Inikawas) had never reached that number.

    It's a pity that no one has witnessed his feat !

    I'll come back this afternoon with the other children of the tribe, they will see how clever I am.

    At this thought she suddenly remembered the reason for her presence there. There was need of water in the village, if she did not hurry back, she would be rebuked She quickly went out of the brook with the two goatskins filled to the brim, fixed one at each end of a bamboo stem. And she placed it on her shoulder.

    The goatskins weighed hard, but his thin body was sturdy. Once standing, she walked with a nimbly step despite the weight of her burden. Before leaving the bank, she turned one last time.

    "Good-bye, Sister River. I thank you for your water and shall come back to see you as soon as possible.

    It was in the customs of the Inikawas to consider the existing elements as their brother, whether animal, plant or mineral. When they took a part of nature, when they killed an animal for their subsistence, they apologized in advance and thanked him afterwards. So, the reflex of Little Flower of the Field was perfectly natural.

    Those the traditions counted for a lot to the Inikawas, especially the Name Ceremony, the moment when the tribe gives a name to a baby.

    After the birth of Little Flower of the Field, her parents and the Council of Elders had gathered. They had been amazed by the extraordinary delicacy of the newborn, who weared the original features of the first immigrants who had settled in the country for a hundred and twenty summers.

    These first inhabitants had crossed a considerable distance by land, then an almost limitless ocean before reaching this fertile country. It was said in the evening around the fires that these pioneers fled from the ferocious yoke of a place which they called Atlantis. Over the years, the great air and the sun had browned and reddened the skins. Babies were now born red skin.

    Twelve years before, therefore, a newborn broke with this acquired peculiarity. Her skin was so white that it reminded one of the daisy. By mutual agreement, it was called Little Daisy. Season after season, everybody was pleased about the choice of this name. For her look and her dark hair enhanced the brightness of her face. The sun did not turn it brown, quite the reverse, it exalted its opalescence ann its brightness.

    At that hour of the morning, as the little girl pushed her way through the tall grass, more than ever she looked like a little flower of the fields.

    A circle of about a hundred gray tents protected by a palisade of stakes springs up in front of her. Her village, a tribe of three hundred men, women and children. Above the tepees, a mahogany totem was carved with the effigy of the mascot of the inhabitants: a condor. Wings spread, the large bird seemed to soar. The Inikawas felt reassured by his presence.

    Little Daisy turned away from the totem. No one was waiting for her at the entrance of the village. Perhaps she could go to her tepee without being noticed or scolding for her delay.

    She advanced, and at once felt an impression of strangeness. She would not have been able to tell what tensed up her nerves and awakened her attention, but her step was slower, her breath shorter and her gaze more acute.

    Suddenly, she understood. Not a sound reached her. The squabbling and laughter of the children had faded, the coughing, the scraping and other sounds emanating from human activities had disappeared. Even the insects had deserted the place; She could no longer hear the buzzing of the bee or the fly. A weight of heavy silence had fallen on the village.

    Alarmed, Little Daisy briefly called. The sigh of the breeze was the only answer. From her friends, from her brothers, she obtained nothing but profound silence.

    Without letting go of her goatskins, she accelerated her pace and ran, full of apprehension.

    She had not crossed the first circle of

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