Well, the old woman kept her Cock in a little corral of tall close-set stakes, sharp at the top and wattled together with rawhide thongs, like an eagle-cage against a wall, only it had a little wicket also fastened with thongs. Now, try as he would, the old Tâkâkâ Cock could not fly out, for he had no chance to run and make a start as turkeys do in the wilds, yet he was ever trying and trying, because he was meat-hungry—always anxious for worms;—for, although the people of that village had abundant food, this old woman was poor and lived mainly on grain-foods, wherefore, perforce, she fed the old Tâkâkâ Cock with the refuse of her own eatings. In the morning the old woman would come and throw this refuse food into the corral cage.
Under the wall near by there lived a Mouse. He had no old grandmother to feed him, and he was particularly fond of grain food. When, having eaten his fill, the old Cock would settle down, stiff of neck and not looking this side nor that, but sitting in the sun kâ-tâ-kâ-tok-ing to himself, the little Mouse would dodge out, steal a bit of tortilla or a crumb, and whisk into his hole again. Being sleepy, the Tâkâkâ Cock never saw him, and so, day after day the Mouse fared sumptuously and grew over-bold. But one day, when corn was ripe and the Cock had been well fed and was settling down to his sitting nap, the Mouse came out and stole a particularly large piece of bread, so that in trying to push it into his hole he made some noise and, moreover, had to stop and tunnel his doorway larger.
The Cock turned his head and looked just as the Mouse was working his way slowly in, and espied the long, naked tail lying there on the ground and wriggling as the Mouse moved to and fro at his digging.
“Hah! By the Grandmother of Substance, it is a worm!” cackled the Cock, and he made one peck at the Mouse’s tail and bit it so hard that he cut it entirely off and swallowed it at one gulp.
The Mouse, squeaking “Murder!” scurried down into his sleeping-place, and fell to licking his tail until his chops were all pink and his mouth was drawn down like a crying woman’s; for he loved his long tail as a young dancer loves the glory of his long hair, and he cried continually: “Weh tsu tsu, weh tsu tse, yam hok ti-i-i!” and thought: “Oh, that shameless great beast! By the Demon of Slave-creatures, I’ll have my payment of him! For he is worse than an owl or a night-hawk. They eat us all up, but he has taken away the very mark of my mousehood and left me to mourn it. I’ll take vengeance on him, will I!”
So, from that time the Mouse thought how he might compass it, and this plan seemed best: He would creep out some day, all maimed of tail as he was, and implore pity, and thus, perchance, make friends for a while with the Tâkâkâ Cock. So he took seed-down, and made a plaster of it with nut-resin, and applied it to the stump of his tail. Then, on a morning, holding his tail up as a dog does his foot when maimed by a cactus, he crawled to the edge of his hole and cried in a weak voice to the Tâkâkâ:
“Ani, yoa yoa! Itâ-ak’ya Mosa,
Motcho wak’ya,
Oshe wak’ya,