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 Cherokee Legend of Blowing Rock

Cherokee Legend of Blowing Rock
Reading Level
     edHelper's suggested reading level:   grades 5 to 6
     Flesch-Kincaid grade level:   4.9

Vocabulary
     challenging words:    maiden, persistent, repeated, northwest, mountainside, especially, tribe, beloved, elderly, culprit, presence, friendship, lush, lead, arrow, wilderness
     content words:    Great Spirit, Blowing Rock, North Carolina

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Cherokee Legend of Blowing Rock
By Brenda B. Covert 		  
1     Fuschumbi sat on a rock on the mountainside, surveying the wooded valley below. The lush green wilderness with its peaks and dips still seemed strange. Fuschumbi was a Chickasaw maiden from the Midwest. She'd lived where one could see for miles -- see the elk, see the herds of buffalo, see the distant horizon. "Things are more hidden here," she thought, "especially me."
 
2     A movement below caught Fuschumbi's eye. A Cherokee brave crept stealthily through the brush. He must have been tracking an animal.
 
3     As a warm spring breeze rustled the leaves, a mischievous grin spread across Fuschumbi's face. Slowly she stood and lifted her bow and arrow. Carefully she took aim. Her arrow sped silently from the rock to the valley below. It met its target -- a tree in front of the brave. He spun around to find the culprit. Fuschumbi's laughter alerted him to her presence on the rocks above. Fuschumbi held his gaze with a twinkle in her eye. Then the young brave scrambled up the mountain to meet her.
 
4     Fuschumbi had been so lonely, living on the mountain with only his mother for company. The Cherokee brave gave her hope for friendship. He joined Fuschumbi on the rock. A look of confusion crossed his face.
 
5     "You are not a Cherokee," he said, surprised.
 
6     "I am of the Chickasaw people," Fuschumbi said proudly.
 
7     "You are far from home," the brave replied, obviously intrigued.
 
8     The brave's name was Tooantuh. Fuschumbi felt that she could trust him, so she shared her story with him.
 
9     White men had come to the plains. A village had sprung up. The white man wanted to trade with the Chickasaw. Fuschumbi's father had heard stories of the white man's chicanery, and he did not trust those people. He especially did not like the way the fuzzy-faced loud one eyed his only daughter. It had made Fuschumbi's heart beat like a rabbit's when facing a coyote.

Paragraphs 10 to 25:
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