Nasca said all this with some idea of getting an excuse to go from there, but the words struck deep and the cat wondered.
“Why did you loose me?” asked the cat.
“Because I wanted to run a race with you,” answered Nasca.
“If we run a race it must be for a wager,” said the cat. “If you lose I make a meal of you. Is it agreed?”
“Fairly spoken,” said Nasca, “though to be sure if you lose I make no meal of you.”
“Let us run to-morrow then,” said Nasca. “And I shall sleep well under the tree and be fresh in the morning.”
“Not so,” said the cat. “If we run, we run at midnight and under the cold white moon.”
“So be it,” answered Nasca. “Where shall we run?”
“Across the mountains and back again, seven times,” said the cat, choosing the highlands, because she knew that she could leap over hills and cañons, while Nasca would have to climb up and down, and choosing night because she could see better in the dark than Nasca. For the cat was very wise. But Nasca on his part thought of little more than getting away from the cat for a while. So he told the cat that he would bring a basket of fish for her supper, which he did, and while the cat ate he went outside and sought his grandmother.
The wise old woman laughed when she heard the story. “To a cat her cattishness,” she said, “but to a woman her wit. All falls out well enough. Haste, run and bring me the magic ax.”