“Charger could tell sad stories too,” he said. “And when he told one, the people would be looking down their noses, feeling very bad. And he could tell the kind of stories that made a boy feel cold on the back of his neck and keep looking behind in the dark, because something that was not there, was there anyway, and it might grab you all at once.--Like the one about the evil _wakon_ who got his power from eating dead peoples’ tongues. In the night he would sprout great wings like a giant buzzard’s; and when somebody was sick and about to die, the people would hear him flapping, flapping, flapping, with a queer whisking sound above the tepee in the dark. Maybe somebody coming back late in the night would pass a new scaffold, and that man-buzzard would be sitting up there in the moonlight, and maybe the moon would be old and broken and just about to go down. Then the man-buzzard would lift slowly and fly away, and you could see him cross the moon and hear him going--flap, flap, flap, with a queer whistling sound. In the morning when relatives went to look, there would be another tongue missing! It took a long while to tell that story, because it took the people a long while to find out who was the evil _wakon_. They had to try this and try that and look here and look there. And when they did find out, everybody was surprised and you could hardly believe it. “But the story that always makes me hungry is the one Charger told that night about the Two Boys Who Had Sister-Trouble. I want to tell it because what I eat these days does not do me much good, and I want to be hungry like a boy again. “So this is the way it was with the two boys who had sister-trouble. “A long while ago before the hoop was broken and the people still were good, there was a right way and a wrong way to do everything, and something bad would happen if you did the wrong way. I have told you how a man could not speak to his daughter-in-law and she could not speak to him, even when they lived in the same tepee. If they had to say something to each other, they said it to the son’s mother and she said it to the other one. Neither could the two eat together. It was the same way with a brother and sister when they were no longer little children. They respected each other so much that if they had to say something to each other they would say it to their mother and she would tell it. These ways were good for the people, but now there is nothing good at all. In those days a young man wanted his sisters to be proud of him, and they might make beaded clothing for him to show how proud they were, but they would be so ashamed to say it to him that they would rather die.