"Let us humour him," and granted his request.
"Well," said he, "that will do." Then looking at his tail--
"Oh!" cried he, "make my tail a little longer and more bushy."
They made it so, and shortly after they all started off in company,
dashing up a ravine. After getting into the woods some distance, they
fell in with the tracks of moose. The young wolves went after them,
Manabozho and the old wolf following at their leisure.
"Well," said the wolf, "who do you think is the fastest of my sons?
Can you tell by the jumps they take?"
"Why," replied he, "that one that takes such long jumps; he is the
fastest, to be sure."
"Ha, ha! You are mistaken," said the old wolf. "He makes a good start,
but he will be the first to tire out. This one who appears to be
behind will be the first to kill the game."
Soon after they came to the place where the young ones had killed the
game. One of them had dropped his bundle there.
"Take that, Manabozho," said the old wolf.
"Esa," he replied, "what will I do with a dirty dog-skin?"
The wolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe.
"Oh! I will carry it now," said Manabozho.
"Oh no," replied the wolf, who at the moment exerted his magic power.
"It is a robe of pearls."
From that moment he lost no opportunity of displaying his superiority,
both in the hunter's and magician's art, over his conceited companion.
Coming to a place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the
young wolves had made a fresh start after their prey.
"Why," said the wolf, "this moose is poor. I know by the tracks, for I
can always tell whether they are fat or not."
They next came to a place where one of the wolves had tried to bite
the moose, and, failing, had broken one of his teeth on a tree.
"Manabozho," said the wolf, "one of your grandchildren has shot at the
game. Take his arrow. There it is."
"No," replied he, "what will I do with a dirty tooth?"
The old wolf took it up, and, behold! it was a beautiful silver arrow.
When they overtook the young ones, they found they had killed a very
fat moose. Manabozho was very hungry, but, such is the power of
enchantment, he saw nothing but bones, picked quite clean. He thought
to himself--
"Just as I expected. Dirty, greedy fellows!"
However, he sat down without saying a word, and the old wolf said to
one of the young ones--
"Give some meat to your grandfather."
The wolf, coming near to Manabozho, opened his mouth wide as if he had
eaten too much, whereupon Manabozho jumped up, saying--
"You filthy dog, you have eaten so much that you are ill. Get away to
some other place."
The old wolf, hearing these words, came to Manabozho, and, behold!
before him was a heap of fresh ruddy meat with the fat lying all ready
prepared. Then Manabozho put on a smiling-face.
"Amazement!" cried he, "how fine the meat is!"
"Yes," replied the wolf; "it is always so with us. We know our work,
and always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes a hunter."
Manabozho bit his lip.
They then commenced fixing their winter quarters, while the young ones
went out in search of game, of which they soon brought in a large
supply. One day, during the absence of the young wolves, the old one
amused himself by cracking the large bones of a moose.
"Manabozho," said he, "cover your head with the robe, and do not look
at me while I am at these bones, for a piece may fly in your eye."
Manabozho covered his head, but, looking through a rent in the robe,
he saw all the other was about. At that moment a piece of bone flew
off and hit him in the eye. He cried out--
"Tyau! Why do you strike me, you old dog!"