The other boys agreed. They ran out, leaving Little Thunderbird standing at the entrance to his father’s tepee. Suddenly, Little Thunderbird felt very much alone. In the next few days, he began to feel even more lonely because the other boys would not play with him or speak to him. This went on, until one day Little Thunderbird refused to leave the tepee. His mother asked him if he felt sick, and he told her he was “just a little tired.” But Little Thunderbird’s mother knew that something must be wrong and so she talked with her husband about it. “I know what is wrong, my dear wife. My friends have told me of Little Thunderbird’s tale to the other boys one day about the brave deed of his father, the greatest warrior the Blackfoot have ever known. When they asked Little Thunderbird to prove the story, he could not. He had lied to his friends and his conscience is punishing him.” “But can’t you help him?” the boy’s mother pleaded. “There is nothing I can do. Many moons ago I taught my son the strength of truth. He does not have to lie now. If he is not proud of his father, let him say so. I am not ashamed that I have not done something great and have not done something very brave. I have done no more and no less than most of the braves of the tribe. Surely I am not the greatest warrior in the tribe, and I have never given Little Thunderbird any reason to say that I am. The boys will not make fun of him if he tells the truth. They know that their fathers are like me. The boys will probably praise him if he admits that he lied.” Little Thunderbird lay just inside the tepee and had heard his father speaking with his mother. Rising from his bed, he ran out of the tepee and headed through the village to find his friends. His parents understood and did not try to call him back. Finally, he found them, once again seated in a council circle like the men of the tribe. When they saw him coming, the tallest arose from his place and stopped Little Thunderbird before he could reach the circle. “What is it you want here, teller of lies?” he asked angrily. “We do not want you for a friend. Go from this place. There is none here that you could call a friend.” “Wait, let me speak,” Little Thunderbird begged. “I have something important to say and I want to be heard.” “All right, speak,” the tall lad said, “but be brief—and none of your lies!” Little Thunderbird stepped to the center of the circle. He was about to raise his arms for silence as he had done before, but he thought better of it and waited until the boys were quiet once again.