"Grand chief, grand chief, we are unable to distinguish between my horse and his. Could you help us?"

"Well, it is very easy", the chief said, "let us cut the crines to yours so the one without hair will be yours and the one with hair your mate’s"

"Oh ! grand chief, how wise and clever you are!" said the Cherokee guy. Chances are he was the most fawner in the tribe.

But as it happens the time passed, and the horse’s crines grew again. So both of the guys came back in front of the grand chief telling the same story:

"Grand chief, grand chief, we are unable to distinguish between my horse and his. Could you help us?"

"Well, it is very easy", the chief said again, "let us paint a red mark to yours so the one with the mark will be yours and the other your mate’s".

Really he did not spent much time thinking.

"Oh! Grand chief, how wise and clever you are!" The toady guy said again.

The time continued to pass, and the life was evolving peacefully in the Cherokee camp, but with the rainwater and the air pollution the mark on the horse wiped away.

And again the same story:

"Grand chief, grand chief, we are unable to distinguish between my horse and his. Could you help us?"

(Unfortunately, I cannot repeat here what the grand chief said, but he finished by saying:)

".... and the red horse for you and the black one for you and leave me alone!"