It was now night; but early in the morning Taranga rose up, and suddenly, in a moment of time, she was gone from the house where her children were. As soon as they woke up they looked all about to no purpose, as they could not see her; the elder brothers knew she had left them, and were accustomed to it; but the little child was exceedingly vexed; yet he thought: “I cannot see her, ’tis true, but perhaps she has only gone to prepare some food for us.” No-no—she was off, far, far away. Now, at nightfall when their mother came back to them, her children were dancing and singing as usual. As soon as they had finished, she called to her last-born, “Come here, my child, let us sleep together”; so they slept together; but as soon as day dawned, she disappeared. The little fellow now felt quite suspicious at such strange proceedings on the part of his mother every morning. So, at length, another night, he crept out of bed in the night and stole his mother’s apron, her belt, and clothes, and hid them; then he went and stopped up every crevice in the wooden window, and in the doorway, so that the light of the dawn might not shine into the house, and make his mother hurry to get up. But after he had done this his little heart still felt very anxious and uneasy, lest his mother should, in her impatience, rise in the darkness, and defeat his plans. But the night dragged its slow length along without his mother moving; at last there came the faint light of early morn, but his mother still slept on; then the sun rose up, and mounted far up above the horizon; now at last his mother moved, and began to think to herself, “What kind of night can this be, to last so long?” and having thought thus, she dropped asleep again. Again she awoke, and began to think to herself, but could not tell that it was broad daylight outside, as the window and every chink in the house were stopped up closely. At last up she jumped; and finding herself without her clothes or her belt or her apron, she ran and pulled out the things with which the windows and chinks in the doors were stopped up, and whilst doing so, oh, dear! oh, dear! there she saw the sun high up in the heavens; then she snatched up, as she ran off, the old flax cloak, with which the door of the house had been stopped up, and carried it off as her only covering; getting, at last, outside the house, she hurried away, and ran crying at the thought of having been so badly treated by her own children.