"But see, my younger brother, you are only a small boy and can neither hunt nor fight; surely, therefore, it is well for you to help our mother at home!"
The two children, Wasula and Chatanna, as they draw near the old story-teller's wigwam, are carrying on a dispute that has arisen between them earlier in the evening, when dry sticks were to be gathered for cooking the supper, and Chatanna, aged seven, refused to help his sister on the ground that it is not a warrior's duty to provide wood. Both appeal to their teacher to settle the question.
"Hun, hun, hay!" good-naturedly exclaims the old man. "Truly, there is much to be said on both sides; but perhaps you can agree more easily after you have heard my story."
THE EAGLE AND THE BEAVER
Out of the quiet blue sky there shot like an arrow the great War-eagle. Beside the clear brown stream an old Beaver-woman was busily chopping wood. Yet she was not too busy to catch the whir of descending wings, and the Eagle reached too late the spot where she had vanished in the midst of the shining pool.
He perched sullenly upon a dead tree near by and kept his eyes steadily upon the smooth sheet of water above the dam.
After a time the water was gently stirred and a sleek, brown head cautiously appeared above it.
"What right have you," reproached the Beaver-woman, "to disturb thus the mother of a peaceful and hard-working people?"
"Ugh, I am hungry," the Eagle replied shortly.
"Then why not do as we do—let other folks alone and work for a living?"