The old wolf took it up, and, behold! it was a beautiful silver arrow.
When they overtook the young ones, they found they had killed a very fat moose. Manabozho was very hungry, but, such is the power of enchantment, he saw nothing but bones, picked quite clean. He thought to himself—
“Just as I expected. Dirty, greedy fellows!”
However, he sat down without saying a word, and the old wolf said to one of the young ones—
“Give some meat to your grandfather.”
The wolf, coming near to Manabozho, opened his mouth wide as if he had eaten too much, whereupon Manabozho jumped up, saying—
“You filthy dog, you have eaten so much that you are ill. Get away to some other place.”
The old wolf, hearing these words, came to Manabozho, and, behold! before him was a heap of fresh ruddy meat with the fat lying all ready prepared. Then Manabozho put on a smiling-face.
“Amazement!” cried he, “how fine the meat is!”
“Yes,” replied the wolf; “it is always so with us. We know our work, and always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes a hunter.”