He tried to go to the top of the mountain and make a hole there. He could not roll up in any way. He fell back each time that he tried. He could travel on level ground only, he could only rise by bounding. "I cannot go up there, I am not able," said he. He lay down close to the entrance of the cave and thought a while. He made up his mind to bound like a ball, to spring from point to point, higher and higher, on neighboring mountains, till he got very high, and then come down on the top of Wamarawi. He did this, went far up on the top of other and higher mountains till at last he was very high; then with a great bound he came down on the top of Wamarawi, came down with a terrible crash. He made an awfully big hole in it, bigger than all the four holes he had made in the sides put together; and this hole did not close, but it did not reach the cave. After that blow he came again to level ground. He lay there and said to himself: "I have tried five times to get at those people. I will try once more. I may get at them this time." He went high up in the sky, higher than before. He was angrier and madder than ever, and he came down with a louder crash; the whole mountain shook and trembled. No one inside the cave was laughing now; all the people were terrified. Putokya went almost through to the cave. The rock above the people was very thin after this blow, and the hole did not close again. "I will not try any more," said Putokya; "I cannot get at the people." He was discouraged, and left Wamarawi. All the people within were in terror. "If he tries once more, we are lost," said they. "He will burst through and eat us, eat every one of us." The great hole remained on that mountain top, and people say that there is a lake up there now with goldfish in it. Putokya started north, went toward Pulshu Aina, his own village. As he went toward home, he made a great roaring and wind, cut down trees and brush, people, beasts, everything that he met; he left a clean road behind. He swept through Pulshu Aina, and went farther north, went almost to Jigulmatu. Metsi was coming down to the south, along the same trail; he was very well dressed. Metsi always dressed well. He wore a splendid elkskin belt and a hair net; he was fine-looking. Metsi was right in the middle of the trail. He had learned that Putokya was out killing people in the south; he heard the roar a great way off, and said to himself,-- "I hear Putokya; he is killing all the people." Metsi thought over what he was to do. "I will meet him. I will say to this Putokya, 'You are smart, you are good, but you are sick. I will cure you.'" Metsi took off all his fine clothes in a hurry and hid them, made himself naked. "I must be quick," said he; "the noise and wind are coming nearer and nearer. I wish a rusty old basket to be here before me." The basket was there. He wished for an old strap to carry it. The old strap was there with the basket.