“Brave one! Wise one! Swift of foot” and “Give us of thy counsel!” And the Cave People began talking in loud voices of the good deeds of their old chief, of his courage and strength, of his wisdom and his “Eye-that-never-slept.” While Big Foot defied the spirit of Strong Arm, One Ear and the Cave People sought to propitiate him with loud words of admiration and some flattery. “Stronger than the hairy mastodon” they called him and “Father of all the lions.” He could outleap the mountain goat and outclimb the longest armed ou-rang-oo-tang. His voice was like the thunder and his breath like the winds that bend the trees on the river banks. They felt more certain than ever that something was going to happen. They expected the spirit of Strong Arm to make it happen. But they did not desire to share in untoward events if a little information given to the spirit of Strong Arm could prevent this thing. But the day passed, and the sun slid down the wings of the sky into the red fire of the lake, and still Big Foot strutted about with loud and boasting words. Still the Cave People waited and hoped, and were afraid. And that night the spirit of Strong Arm again appeared to One Ear in a dream and his voice was fierce with anger against Big Foot and, in the dream, he counselled One Ear to tell the Cave People to push Big Foot from the tallest crag along the mountain gorge so that his body would be crushed upon the sharp stones below. In the morning One Ear told these things to the people of the tribe and they drank the words of Strong Arm eagerly, begging Big Foot to join in a hunt for the wild goat amid the slopes of the mountain. But Big Foot was afraid and hid in his hut, making queer mouthings and snatching food from the children and waving his sharp arrows. So the Cave People gathered about One Ear urging him to meet the spirit of Strong Arm once more and to ask for more wisdom on how to dispatch the evil man who brought dangers and conflict to the tribe. Again in the morning One Ear called the people together, saying that the spirit of Strong Arm counselled the people to build fires about the hut of Big Foot in the night so that he might be destroyed. And so, when darkness wrapped the valley in her soft folds, the Cave People stole from their shelters, each bearing branches and glowing coals from the camp fire, which they hurled in the door of Big Foot, with stones and spears so that he might not escape and injure the tribe. The night was black and Big Foot was unable to hit the people with his sharp arrows. Coals were thrown upon the dry thatch of his hut and soon the flames encircled him with their burning tongues.