“Slowly the three men began the climb into the hills. The lion had seen them coming and headed for higher ground. But finally he came to a solid wall and could climb no farther. My father stepped forward and drew his bow and shot an arrow toward the lion. He missed and the lion started toward him, snarling. The other braves turned and ran for their lives. There was no time to shoot another arrow, so my father drew his knife and waited for the lion’s charge.
“The beast leaped, and my father caught the lion on his knife. Again and again, he plunged the knife into the lion. The fight ended quickly. The lion lay dead at my father’s feet. My father had not even been scratched. Dancing around his victim, my father cut the lion’s tail off and placed it in his pouch. Then he caught up with the other braves farther down the trail, and they continued on the hunt for the ponies.
“After they found the ponies and brought them back to the village, my father told the council of his brave fight and held the tail of the lion on high for all to see. For his courage, he was allowed to wear another feather in his headdress. Now he is really a brave worthy of honor from all. But the two who deserted him were cowards and do not deserve to be members of our tribe.”
When Little Thunderbird had finished, he seated himself in the circle once again. He was proud of the way the other boys listened to his story and the way they talked of his father as a great brave. Little Thunderbird enjoyed the attention he was getting, but in his heart he was troubled. He had made up the whole story. There was no truth at all in it. Then the test came.
“Take us to see the lion’s tail, Little Thunderbird,” one of the boys said. “We want to see the lion’s tail.” And the rest of the boys took up the cry.
Now what was Little Thunderbird to do? But he decided to bluff it out anyway. He led the boys to his father’s tepee. When they got there, he searched hurriedly for something that looked like a lion’s tail. But he could not find anything. The boys began to get angry.
“You lied to us, Little Thunderbird,” one of them said. “Your father never killed a lion, and he is not the greatest brave in the tribe!”
The other boys agreed. They ran out, leaving Little Thunderbird standing at the entrance to his father’s tepee. Suddenly, Little Thunderbird felt very much alone. In the next few days, he began to feel even more lonely because the other boys would not play with him or speak to him. This went on, until one day Little Thunderbird refused to leave the tepee. His mother asked him if he felt sick, and he told her he was “just a little tired.” But Little Thunderbird’s mother knew that something must be wrong and so she talked with her husband about it.
“I know what is wrong, my dear wife. My friends have told me of Little Thunderbird’s tale to the other boys one day about the brave deed of his father, the greatest warrior the Blackfoot have ever known. When they asked Little Thunderbird to prove the story, he could not. He had lied to his friends and his conscience is punishing him.”
“But can’t you help him?” the boy’s mother pleaded.