She raised the basket to her back, and rushed away. When she reached Wakaruwa, she threw down the basket outside, and ran into the house past her mother. "Why are you so frightened? What is the matter?" asked her mother. Not a word did she answer. Old Wakara was sitting inside. "Why are you frightened, my daughter?" asked he. "Has anything happened, has any one hurt you?" "I saw a man over there on the mountain." "What kind of man was he?" asked Wakara. "He has an otter on his back and wears buckskin; his hands are both red with deer blood." Titindi Maupa had a large piece of fat venison in his otter-skin quiver. "He is a good hunter, I think," said Wakara; and he took down an otter-skin, put it on the north side of the house, and said to his daughter, "Sit there and let this man come to you." It was night soon. All the people came into the house, sat down, and ate supper. Titindi Maupa stopped outside for a while, and found a place where Wakara stored acorns. "I will leave you here for this night," said he to his sister. "To-morrow I will come to get you." Titindi Maupa left his sister in the acorn crib, sank in the ground then, and came up inside the sweat-house right at the side of Paiowa. Old Wakara laughed when he saw him sitting near his daughter. He was glad. "Give the stranger food," said he. Paiowa brought food and gave it to the stranger. Titindi Maupa ate some and said, "Look in my otter-skin, I have some venison." She put her hand in, found a good piece, a nice saddle of venison. She could not draw the piece out, it was so heavy. She went then to her father and said, "I must have a big basket." She took a large tray basket over to her place. Titindi Maupa drew out the venison and put it on the tray, saying,-- "Now, be no smaller, my venison, stay as you are, no matter how much they take from you." Two girls carried the basket and put it down before Wakara and Hemauna Marimi, his wife. The two old people ate. After them all in the house ate, and the saddle of venison was as large as at first. When all in the house had eaten, old Wakara went out on the housetop and shouted,-- "My sons, I call you all to come in for a short while." Now, all the stars in the sky were Wakara's children; they were his sons and daughters. The greatest, a son, came in first. When near the house, he had caught the odor of venison. Behind him came a great many people. All the stars were in Wakara's sweat-house; the whole place was filled with them. When they looked and saw Titindi Maupa sitting with their sister, they laughed. They were glad. Some sat down; others cut off the venison and roasted it. All ate what they wanted. Now, old Wakara himself cut off venison, and gave a large share to each son to carry home for his wife and children. All went away laughing.