They said—
“Let us humour him,” and granted his request.
“Well,” said he, “that will do.” Then looking at his tail—
“Oh!” cried he, “make my tail a little longer and more bushy.”
They made it so, and shortly after they all started off in company, dashing up a ravine. After getting into the woods some distance, they fell in with the tracks of moose. The young wolves went after them, Manabozho and the old wolf following at their leisure.
“Well,” said the wolf, “who do you think is the fastest of my sons? Can you tell by the jumps they take?”
“Why,” replied he, “that one that takes such long jumps; he is the fastest, to be sure.”
“Ha, ha! You are mistaken,” said the old wolf. “He makes a good start, but he will be the first to tire out. This one who appears to be behind will be the first to kill the game.”
Soon after they came to the place where the young ones had killed the game. One of them had dropped his bundle there.
“Take that, Manabozho,” said the old wolf.