But no sooner done than the donkey began to rear and bray and kick.
He broke the tent poles and kicked the pots and kettles into bits
and tore the skin tent. The more he was beaten the more he kicked.

At last they told the grandmother. She laughed. "Did I not tell
you the donkey was for the children," she cried. "He knows the
babies are the chief's children. Think you he will be dishonored
with pots and kettles?" and she fetched the children and slung them
over the donkey's back, when he became at once quiet again.

The camping party left the village and went on their journey. But
the next day as they passed by a place overgrown with bushes, a
band of enemies rushed out, lashing their ponies and sounding their
war whoop. All was excitement. The men bent their bows and seized
their lances. After a long battle the enemy fled. But when the
camping party came together again--where were the donkey and the
two babes? No one knew. For a long time they searched, but in
vain. At last they turned to go back to the village, the father
mournful, the mother wailing. When they came to the grandmother's
tepee, there stood the good donkey with the two babes in the saddle
bags.






THE RABBIT AND THE ELK

The little rabbit lived with his old grandmother, who needed a new