On sunny days, Wonoma opened the window, and fresh scents of rain- soaked earth filled the room to give Grandmother strength for her task.

One afternoon Grandmother didn't speak. "Have you told all the stories?" asked Wonoma.

"There are more," said Grandmother. "But you will not remember. Tales must be heard often as in the days they were repeated year after year."

"Please tell the others," begged Wonoma.

Grandmother turned away. "No. It is useless. The world of the Maidu is lost."

During class next day, Wonoma spoke to Mrs. Bidwell about Grandmother's stories. "The Maidu tales will be forgotten when the old people are gone."

"You could save the tales," said Mrs. Bidwell.

"Save the tales?" asked Wonoma.

Mrs. Bidwell took a pencil from her pocket, and Wonoma said, "I could write them."

Mrs. Bidwell found paper and more pencils. She gave Wonoma a hug and said, "Leave early today so you can begin."