"They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_
stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that _Mon-e-dowa_
stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked
_Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly.
"Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with
pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they
knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they
had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad canon and
concealed themselves.
"Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the canon
too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain
were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days
he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went
away.
"Then _Mon-e-dowa_ and _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, who had been living quite
peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the
canon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the
level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they
knew they had been aided by _Man-a-boo-sho_, the good Manitou.
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