They sat by a great rock. One of the hunters hit the rock with a stick, and a little man appeared. [[109]]
The little one said: “You are starving because you killed and did not eat. You fed the wolves; now the wolves will feed on you. We have driven the deer to another forest, where they may live and be found by other hunters. You were selfish. You wanted all the deerskins in the forest. You were not wise.”
“What shall we do to get food?” said the hunters.
“You may have meat if you will give up all the deerskins. My people have said it,” said the little one.
“We must have the skins, and we must have food. Ask your chief to let us have the skins for our wigwams. We will be wise when we see the deer again at the salt licks,” said the older hunter.
“I will go to my chief. Hit on this rock again when you want me,” said the little one.
The Indians rapped on the rock again when the sun was setting. The little one came and led the way to a great cave filled with food and furs. They ate and slept. At midnight they were awakened by many of the little people, who said that the hunters might take their packs of skins and all the food they wished from the cave if they would never again shoot the deer to feed the wolves. The hunters promised and soon were in a strange, sound sleep. When they awoke they were near their homes.
Adapted from Powell’s Report. [[110]]
