But in the night the little men of the valley came clamouring: "Oh, Strong Man of the Hills, the moon derides you!"
The philosopher went to them in the darkness. "Be still, little people. It is nothing. The derision of the moon is nothing."
But the little men of the valley would not cease their uproar. "Oh, Strong Man! Strong Man, awake! Awake! The moon derides you!"
Then the Strong Man aroused and shook his locks away from his eyes. "What is it, good little men of the valley?"
"Oh, Strong Man, the moon derides you! Oh, Strong Man!"
The Strong Man looked, and there, indeed, was the moon laughing down at him. He sprang to his feet and roared. "Ah, old, fat, lump of moon, you laugh! Have you seen my wife?"
The moon said no word, but merely smiled in a way that was like a flash of silver bars.
"Well, then, moon, take this home to her," thundered the Strong Man, and he hurled his spear.
The moon clapped both hands to its eye, and cried: "Oh! Oh!"
The little people of the valley cried: "Oh, this is terrible, Strong Man! He has smitten our sacred moon in the eye!"