She told him the same story that she had told her grandson. The baby grew quickly, grew large in a little while. "Oh, my aunt," said Dari Jowa, "give this boy to me. I want to hear him talk. I want him for myself. I will take good care of him. I want to hear him talk, I want to hear him shout. He will be a great shouter. Oh, my aunt, give this little boy to me." The old woman agreed at last. Dari Jowa took the boy and called him Ilhataina. One day Dari Jowa brought Ilhataina to the sweat-house and said, "Talk now." Ilhataina began to talk, and the sweat-house trembled. He shouted; the whole earth shook. He was thundering. ILHATAINA PERSONAGES After each name is given that of the creature or thing into which the personage was changed subsequently. =Ahalamila=, gray wolf; =Demauna=, pine marten; =Gowila=, lizard; =Ilhataina=, lightning; =Jul Kurula=, woodgrub; =Jupka=, butterfly of the wild silkworm; =Tsoré Jowá=, a kind of eagle. * * * * * Near Jigulmatu lived Tsore Jowa, a very old woman. Once in the spring she went west to dig roots, and found a great clump of them. "I'll come to-morrow and dig these," thought she, and went home. Next morning she went to get the roots. She dug around the whole clump, but could not pull it up. She dug deeper, pulled and tugged; at last the roots came, and on them a little boy with eyes staring out of his head. She pushed the eyes back, cured him, put him in a rabbit-skin blanket which she wore, and went home. She washed the boy all day, and did not sleep at night. She washed him all the time. When five days old, he had grown a good deal. On the sixth day he crept; on the ninth he walked. When fifteen days old, he was a strong but very small boy. "I want a bow and arrows," said he. "You must not go out," said the old woman, "you must not leave my sight." He teased till at last she gave him a bow and said, "You must stay on the housetop, and not go away." While he was on the house a bird flew up, perched on a tree-top, and asked, "Why doesn't your mother nurse you?" The bird repeated this and flew away. The boy cried; came down and told his grandmother. "Where are our people? Tell me," said he. "Our people were many," said she, "but Gowila killed them all. We have no people now." "Who is Gowila?" "Oh, he is strong and terrible; you must not see Gowila." The boy walked around the house then, looked at the walls, and asked, "May I have that bow hanging there?" "You may if you like," said she, "but you are too weak to use it. You are very small, a little fellow."