"But, oh!" cried she, "your legs are as black as a coal! They were so badly burned that they will never return to their color!" The poor fox, who, like many another brave, was vain of his legs, fell into a transport of lamentation.
"Oh! my legs! My pretty red legs! What shall I do?
The young girls will all despise me.

I shall never dare to show myself among them again!" He cried and sobbed until his grandmother, fatigued with her exercise, fell asleep.

By this time he had decided upon his plan of revenge.
He rose and stole softly out of his lodge, and, pursuing his way rapidly towards the village of the chief, he turned his face in the direction of the principal lodge and barked.

When the inhabitants heard this sound in the stillness of the night, their hearts trembled.

They knew that it foreboded sorrow and trouble to some one of their number.
A very short time elapsed before the beautiful daughter of the chief fell sick, and she grew rapidly worse and worse, spite of medicines, charms, and dances.