"Do snakes cast off their skins?"
"Did you not know that, young Antonio?" queried the old Indian in surprise. "Yes, they throw off their skins when they need new ones. That is the law since the old times. Did you never hear why the rattlesnake changes its skin?"
"No. Why? Please tell us, Klayukat." Even Juanita edged nearer the snake skin.
Klayukat went on rubbing the skin, up and down, up and down, and his words kept rhythmic measure with his hands.
A long time ago an old witch went to an eagle's nest while he was away from home. She grabbed his older son by the neck and sucked his blood, every drop. She grabbed his younger son by the neck and sucked his blood, every drop. Then she flew down to earth.
When Eagle returned home, he called to his children. There was no answer. He looked in the nest. There were the two lifeless bodies. "Ah me! ah me!" he cried. "Who has done this awful deed?" He wheeled around in the air to see what creature was guilty. He saw all the animals busy with their own affairs; but down in the pine forest he caught a glimpse of the old witch hiding among the needles.
