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“‘Say, let me play, won’t you?’ asked OLD-man. But the Squirrel-people all ran away, and he had a hard time getting them to return to the fire.

“‘You can’t play this game,’ replied the Chief-Squirrel, after they had returned to the fire.

“‘Yes, I can,’ declared OLD-man, ‘and you may bury me first, but be sure to dig me out when I cry, and not let me burn, for those ashes are hot near the fire.’

“‘All right,’ said the Chief-Squirrel, ‘we will let you play. Lie down,’–and OLD-Man did lie down near the fire. Then the Squirrels began to laugh and bury OLD-man in the ashes, as they did their own kind. In no time at all OLD-man cried: ‘Ouch!–you are burning me–quick!–dig me out.’

“True to their promise, the Squirrel-people dug OLD-man out of the ashes, and laughed at him because he cried so quickly.

“‘Now, it is my turn to cover the captive,’ said OLD-man, ‘and as there are so many of you, I have a scheme that will make the game funnier and shorter. All of you lie down at once in a row. Then I will cover you all at one time. When you cry–I will dig you out right away and the game will be over.’

“They didn’t know OLD-man very well; so they said, ‘all right,’ and then they all laid down in a row about the fire.

“OLD-man buried them all in the ashes–then he threw some more wood on the fire and went away and left them. Every Squirrel there was in the world was buried in the ashes except one woman Squirrel, and she told OLD-man she couldn’t play and had to go home. If she hadn’t gone, there might not be any Squirrels in this world right now. Yes, it is lucky that she went home.

“For a minute or so OLD-man watched the fire as it grew hotter, and then went down to a creek where willows grew and made himself a great plate by weaving them together. When he had finished making the plate, he returned to the fire, and it had burned low again. He laughed at his wicked work, and a Raven, flying over just then, called him ‘forked-tongue,’ or liar, but he didn’t mind that at all. OLD-man cut a long stick and began to dig out the Squirrel-people. One by one he fished them out of the hot ashes; and they were roasted fine and were ready to eat. As he fished them out he counted them, and laid them on the willow plate he had made. When he had dug out the last one, he took the plate to the creek and there sat down to eat the Squirrels, for he was hungry, as usual. OLD-man is a big eater, but he couldn’t eat all of the Squirrels at once, and while eating he fell asleep with the great plate in his lap.

“Nobody knows how long it was that he slept, but when he waked his plate of Squirrels was gone–gone completely. He looked behind him; he looked about him; but the plate was surely gone. Ho! But he was angry. He stamped about in the brush and called aloud to those who might hear him; but nobody answered, and then he started to look for the thief. OLD-man has sharp eyes, and he found the trail in the grass where somebody had passed while he slept. ‘Ho!’ he said, ‘the Mountain-lion has stolen my Squirrels. I see his footprints; see where he has mashed the grass as he walked with those soft feet of his; but I shall find him, for I made him and know all his ways.’

“OLD-man got down on his hands and knees to walk as the Bear-people do, just as he did that night in the Sun’s lodge, and followed the trail of the Mountain-lion over the hills and through the swamps. At last he came to a place where the grass was all bent down, and there he found his willow plate, but it was empty. That was the place where the Mountain-lion had stopped to eat the rest of the Squirrels, you know; but he didn’t stay there long because he expected that OLD-man would try to follow him.