There was no answer from Brother Fox, so Brother Bear moved a little on the log, but it was a very little, for his tail felt heavy as lead. “Why,” he exclaimed, “I must have an enormous fish now, my tail is so heavy!” And with that he gave a great jump, intending to carry the game with him to shore, when, snap! his tail broke right off short, for it was frozen fast in the ice. And that was the trick that North Wind had played. Brother Bear felt terribly at losing his tail, it had been such a beautiful, long one! But at last he comforted himself by thinking, “Well, at any rate, I have a wonderful feast to carry home to the family: nuts, and honey, and fish, and game.” So he licked his lips, in spite of the loss of his tail. But when Brother Bear reached the shore, he could not find Brother Fox anywhere! And neither could he find the fish, nor the tender young otters. Instead, he found a heap of fresh bones back of the bush where Brother Fox had been lying. And then he knew that Brother Fox had played a bad trick upon him, too. He gathered up his load of nuts and honey and went sadly home. And from that day to this Brother Bear has refused to do any more fishing, and has worn a stumpy tail. THE THUNDER PEOPLE (Passamaquoddy) ONCE upon a time a young Indian warrior was hunting with his bow and arrows. He followed far after a fleet deer, until he found himself standing upon a great rock, high above the plains. The clouds were gathering thickly. The sky was black with clouds. The Indian youth was far away from his lodge. Again he saw the deer, and he drew his bow. But as he did so the deer was changed into the form of a maiden, standing against the rock. The youth dropped his bow in wonder. He looked at the maiden. In the distance he heard the voice of the thunder. “Who are you?” he asked in amazement. And the maiden answered, “I am the sister of the Thunder Men. Will you come with me and visit our home?” The youth consented, and the maiden struck the great rock against which she had stood. There was a flash, like a flash of lightning, and the rock opened and made a passage for them. The maiden led the way, and the youth followed; and when they had passed through the rock, they came into a strange country--to the home of the Thunder Maiden. The floors and walls were of clouds, and the clouds were of every shade, from silver gray to the deepest purple black. They were soft to walk upon, and smooth as the smoothest velvet. And their changing shades were more wonderful than any artist could paint. The maiden’s robes were of trailing silver, and her hair was black as midnight. She led the youth to her father, who sat upon a throne formed from the deepest purple clouds. His hair and beard were white like the mists that float across the sky. But his robe was black, with here and there a dash of brilliant gold. “Welcome, my son,” said the old man. “Have you come to dwell among us?”