The old man came to the ground. "My rope is too short. Some one else must try now," said he. "I will try," said the other old man. This one had more rope. Five men had to help him roll it out of the house, there was so much. He took the presents for Sas and began to go up. Tsiwihl watched closely. The rope was unwinding and Lasaswa was going up. "He is half-way up!" said Tsiwihl; "he is near where the first man was." Tsiwihl moved his head a little, but never lost sight of Lasaswa. "He is as high as the other was; he is higher; he is going still higher!" "But the rope has given out," said Norwanchakus. "He is coming down!" cried Tsiwihl. All were looking at the sky except the small boy, who was inside making rope as before. "We are old," said the second Lasaswa; "our ropes are too short. You young men must try to-morrow." Each old man had nine sons. Each person was one day making the trial--all were twenty days trying--no one had a rope long enough. "What shall we do now?" asked the old men on the twenty-first day. "There is a boy in the house making rope yet; let him try," said Norwanchakus. "Oh, he is only playing. He hasn't much rope; he just makes ropes of the shreds that others throw away," said one of the old men. "Go in and ask him," said the second old man. Norwanchakus went in and said, "You are a small boy, but will you try your rope for me?" and he took hold of the boy's hand. He kept his rope in a little basket. When Norwanchakus took his hand, he seized the basket with the other hand and carried it out. "Why do they bring out that little boy?" cried the young men. "He hasn't any rope. We had long ropes, and all were too short; his rope is only to play with." "My cousin," said Norwanchakus, "you are small, but I think you know something. Here are three presents. When you reach the sky, give them to Sas." Then he told him what to do. When Norwanchakus had finished, the boy bowed his head and said "Yes" to him. "You men have long ropes, but they were too short. My rope may not reach the sky, but I will try;" and he started. Tsiwihl's breast and stomach were as blue now as the sky, and blood was trickling from his eyes, he had looked so long and so hard. After the boy was some distance up, those below could not see him, and they said to Tsiwihl, "Tell us, tell us often what he is doing." After a while Tsiwihl said: "He is almost as high as the others were. He is as high; he is as high as the highest was." They looked at his rope. There seemed to be more than when he started. It seemed to grow all the time. "He is higher than any--he is going and going." "Do not lose sight of him," said Norwanchakus. Tsiwihl's eyes were full of blood. "How much rope is there?" asked Norwanchakus. "Oh, there is plenty of rope," cried the others. "He is going and going," said Tsiwihl. "How far up is he? Can you see him?" "He is high, very high, almost as high as I can see--he is nearly at the sky."