and find out."

So he went near and pinched the raccoon on the nose and then on his
soft paws. The raccoon never moved. The crawfish then pinched him
on the ribs and tickled him so that the raccoon could hardly keep
from laughing. The crawfish at last left him. "The
raccoon is surely dead," he thought. And he hurried back to the
crawfish village and reported his find to the chief.

All the villagers were called to go down to the feast. The chief
bade the warriors and young men to paint their faces and dress in
their gayest for a dance.

So they marched in a long line--first the warriors, with their
weapons in hand, then the women with their babies and children--to
the place where the raccoon lay. They formed a great circle about
him and danced, singing:

"We shall have a great feast

"On the spotted-faced beast, with soft smooth paws:

"He is dead!

"He is dead!

"We shall dance!

"We shall have a good time;