They all fell in and commenced their rounds. Whenever Manabozho, as he stood in the circle, saw a fat fowl which he fancied, pass by him, he adroitly wrung its neck and slipped it in his girdle, at the same time beating his drum and singing at the top of his lungs, to drown the noise of the fluttering, and crying out in a tone of admiration: “That’s the way, my brothers; that’s the way!” At last a small duck, of the diver family, thinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw what Manabozho was doing. Giving a spring, and crying: “Ha-ha-a! Manabozho is killing us!” he made for the water. Manabozho, quite vexed that the creature should have played the spy upon his house-keeping, followed him, and just as the diver duck was plunging into the water, gave him a kick, which is the reason that the diver’s tail-feathers are few, his back flattened, and his legs straightened out, so that when he comes on land he makes a poor figure in walking. Meantime, the other birds, having no ambition to be thrust into Manabozho’s girdle, flew off, and the animals scampered into the woods. Manabozho stretching himself at ease in the shade along the side of the prairie, thought what he should do next. He concluded that he would travel and see new countries; and having once made up his mind, in less than three days, such was his length of limb and the immensity of his stride, he had walked over the entire continent, looked into every lodge by the way, and with such nicety of observation, that he was able to inform his good old grandmother what each family had for a dinner at a given hour. By way of relief to these grand doings, Manabozho was disposed to vary his experiences by bestowing a little time upon the sports of the woods. He had heard reported great feats in hunting, and he had a desire to try his power in that way. Besides that, it was a slight consideration that he had devoured all the game within reach of the lodge; and so, one evening, as he was walking along the shore of the great lake, weary and hungry, he encountered a great magician in the form of an old wolf, with six young ones, coming toward him. The wolf no sooner caught sight of him than he told his whelps, who were close about his side, to keep out of the way of Manabozho; “For I know,” he said, “that it is that mischievous fellow whom we see yonder.” The young wolves were in the act of running on, when Manabozho cried out, “My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop and I will go with you. I wish to have a little chat with your excellent father.” Saying which he advanced and greeted the old wolf, expressing himself as delighted at seeing him looking so well. “Whither do you journey?” he asked. “We are looking for a good hunting ground to pass the winter,” the old wolf answered. “What brings you here?” “I was looking for you,” said Manabozho. “For I have a passion for the chase, brother. I always admired your family; are you willing to change me into a wolf?”