"Oh, we should like to see that man," said the sisters, "and talk to him." They watched, talked, and forgot to dig roots. At last, a short time before sunset, they said, "Let us go for roots!" They ran down the mountain, dug a basketful quickly, and hurried home. "Oh, father, will you teach us how to sing?" said the younger sister to Kele that evening. "We tried all day to sing. I tried to teach my sister, she tried to teach me. We could do nothing." "You can sing this way," said Kele, and he began,-- "O wi, no á, O wi, no í, O wi, no á, O wi, no í." "That is good," said she, going away. She said nothing to her sister and lay down. Soon after the twenty brothers came. Ten of them made a great noise. The house just trembled and shook from the uproar. The second ten had smeared themselves with deer blood, hung deer entrails around their necks. They looked wild and ferocious. When inside, they were quiet; in going out and coming in they always rushed and shouted. Next morning Kele kept the twenty brothers in the sweat-house. "Rest a day," said he. The sisters went to the mountain top and looked westward. Soon they saw some one go toward the north, as on the first day. "Did our father tell you how to sing?" asked the elder sister. "He did, but I have forgotten." She tried to remember the song, and soon after it came to her,-- "O wi, no á, O wi, no í, O wi, no á, O wi, no í." "This is the way our father sang," said she. "You try it, sister." The elder began; soon both sang together. "Oh, we have a nice song now," said they. Their song went straight to where the man was, a long distance. This man was Sedit. He was getting red earth for acorn bread. Water soaked through red earth was used to moisten acorn meal. Sedit was covered with shells. He was very splendid to look at. As he dug the earth, it seemed to him that he heard something. He stopped, listened, listened with all his ears. The sisters stopped singing, and he dug again; again he heard the singing and stopped. When he stopped, the sisters ceased to sing; when he dug, they began again. Thus it continued the whole afternoon. They kept Sedit all day there doing little, almost nothing. Sometime before sunset the sisters dug their roots and went home. Sedit went home too. He lived at the house of Satok Pokaila. "What were you doing? I waited all day, forenoon and afternoon, for you. It is too late to make bread now," said Satok. This old woman lived alone till Sedit in his wanderings came to her and worked, brought wood, and dug red earth for her. "I got a headache," said he, "and had to lie down all day nearly." "I am sorry," said the old woman; and she gave him food, but he did not want any. Next day Sedit went for red earth. He did not eat much that morning. He had not slept all the night. He was thinking of that song on the mountain.