"Since I have taken you as my guest, I would sooner die with you than open the door."
"Open it!" Manabozho again cried, in a louder voice than before.
The Manito kept silent. Manabozho, however, made no attempt to open it by force. He waited a few moments.
"Very well," he said, "I give you till morning to live."
Grasshopper trembled, for he thought his last hour had come; but the Manito bade him to be of good cheer.
When the night came on the clouds were thick and black, and as they were torn open by the lightning, such discharges of thunder as bellowed forth were never before heard. The clouds advanced slowly and wrapped the earth about with their vast shadows as in a huge cloak. All night long the clouds gathered, and the lightning flashed, and the thunder roared, and above all could be heard Manabozho muttering vengeance upon poor little Grasshopper.
"You have led a very foolish kind of life, Grasshopper," said his friend the Manito.
"I know it—I know it!" Grasshopper answered.
"You had great gifts of strength awarded to you," said the Manito.
"I am aware of it," replied Grasshopper.