Moh-Kwa listened to the Widow with his head on one side, for he would not lose a word; an’ when she had done, Moh-Kwa was so pleased that he put down his pipe an’ went to a nest which the owls had built on the side of the cavern an’ took down a young owl an’ gave it to the Widow to eat. An’ the Widow thanked Moh-Kwa an’ swallowed the little owl, while the old owl flew all about the cavern telling the other owls what Moh-Kwa had done. The owls were angry an’ shouted at Moh-Kwa. “The Catfish people said you were a Pawnee! But you are worse; you are a Shoshone, Moh-Kwa; yes, you are a Siwash! Bird-robber, little owl-killer, you an’ your Rattlesnake Widow are both Siwashes!” But Moh-Kwa paid no heed; he did not like the owls, for they stole his meat; an’ when he would sleep, a company of the older owls would get together an’ hold a big talk that was like thunder in Moh-Kwa’s cavern an’ kept him awake. Moh-Kwa said at last that if the owls called the Widow who was his guest a Siwash again, he would give her two more baby owls. With that the old owls perched on their points of rocks an’ were silent, for they feared Moh-Kwa an’ knew he was not their friend. When the Widow had eaten her little owl, she curled up to sleep two weeks, for such was the Widow’s habit when she had eaten enough. An’ as she snored pleasantly, feathers an’ owl-down were blown out through her nose, but the young owl was gone forever. Moh-Kwa left the Widow sleeping an’ went down the canyon in the morning to meet the evil Lynx where he knew he would pass close by the bank of the Yellowstone. An’ when Moh-Kwa saw the evil Lynx creeping along with his war-axe in his hand on the trail of the Young Wolf’s heart, he gave a great shout: “Ah! Lynx, I’ve got you!” An’ then he started for the Lynx with his paws spread. For Moh-Kwa loved the Open-hand, who brought back to him Ish-koo-dah, the Fire, when he had gone out of Moh-Kwa’s cavern an’ would not return. But Moh-Kwa did not reach the Lynx, for up a tree swarmed the Lynx out of Moh-Kwa’s reach. When Moh-Kwa saw the evil Lynx hugging close to the tree, the new thought made Moh-Kwa laugh. An’ with that he reached up with his great arms an’ began to bend down the tree like a whip. When Moh-Kwa had bent the tree enough, he let it go free; an’ the tree sprang straight like an osage-orange bow. It was so swift an’ like a whip that the Lynx could not hold on, but went whirling out over the river like a wild duck when its wing is broken by an arrow; an’ then the Lynx splashed into the Yellowstone.