"'I'll show you. I'll teach you. I'll fix you, right now. Steal from me, will you? Steal from the man that made you, you night-prowling rascal!'
"OLD-man put his foot behind the Mountain-lion's head, and, still holding the tail, pulled hard and long, stretching the Lion out to great length. He squalled and cried, but OLD-man kept pulling until he nearly broke the Mountain-lion in two pieces—until he couldn't stretch him any more. Then OLD-man put his foot on the Mountain-lion's back, and, still holding the tail, stretched that out until the tail was nearly as long as the body.
"'There, you thief—now you are too long and lean to get fat, and you shall always look just like that. Your children shall all grow to look the same way, just to pay you for your stealing from the man that made you. Come on with me'; and he dragged the poor Lion back to the place where the fire was, and there rolled him in the hot ashes, singeing his robe till it looked a great deal like burnt hair. Then OLD-man stuck the Lion's nose against the burnt logs and blackened it some—that is why his face looks as it does to-day.
"The Mountain-lion was lame and sore, but OLD-man scolded him some more and told him that it would take lots more food to keep him after that, and that he would have to work harder to get his living, to pay for what he had done. Then he said, 'go now, and remember all the Mountain-lions that ever live shall look just as you do.' And they do, too!
"That is the story—that is why the Mountain-lion is so long and lean, but he is no bigger thief than OLD-man, nor does he tell any more lies. Ho!"
THE FIRE-LEGGINGS
There had been a sudden change in the weather. A cold rain was falling, and the night comes early when the clouds hang low. The children loved a bright fire, and to-night War Eagle's lodge was light as day. Away off on the plains a wolf was howling, and the rain pattered upon the lodge as though it never intended to quit. It was a splendid night for story-telling, and War Eagle filled and lighted the great stone pipe, while the children made themselves comfortable about the fire.
A spark sprang from the burning sticks, and fell upon Fine Bow's bare leg. They all laughed heartily at the boy's antics to rid himself of the burning coal; and as soon as the laughing ceased War Eagle laid aside the pipe. An Indian's pipe is large to look at, but holds little tobacco.
"See your shadows on the lodge wall?" asked the old warrior. The children said they saw them, and he continued: