“Why don’t you eat?” asked Tcoóks. “My old woman is kin to you; you should eat lots. In a strange house it would be right not to eat much; here it’s different.” “He never eats much,” said the old woman. Ndúkis didn’t say anything. “You are a young man, you should have a wife,” said Tcoóks. “There are nice-looking young women in the next house; they are great workers.” “They wouldn’t like me,” said Ndúkis. “Once Kûlta tried to buy those girls,” said Tcoóks. “They wouldn’t go with him. They said they didn’t belong to the water and they wouldn’t marry a man who lived in the water. Maybe they will go with you; you live on land. Every time a rain is over, they bring out nice things,—beautiful shells, and beads.” “I want you to go and buy them for me,” said Ndúkis. “I am kind of scared.” Tcoóks went to old woman Wískäk’s, and Ndúkis went home. Tcoóks said: “Don’t you get tired of your girls sometimes? They are old enough to get a man. They have lived single a long time.” “Kûlta wanted them but I couldn’t make them go with him,” said Wískäk. “My nephew wants them,” said Tcoóks. “He told me to ask you for them. He will give you nice things.” The girls were digging roots; when they started for home, and were near the house, the elder said: “I hear somebody talking. Some man is in our house. Let us sit down outside.” “No,” said the younger. “It is better to go in.” They went in, sat by the fire, and held their heads down. The elder whispered: “I wonder what Tcoóks is here for?” Their mother asked: “Will you marry this man’s nephew?” The elder sister asked the younger: “What will you do?” “Ndúkis lives on high rocks,” she said. “Maybe we would fall off. I don’t like high rocks.” Wískäk said: “I knew you would say something bad.” Then she asked the elder sister: “Will you go with him?” “No. Why do you ask a second time? Ndúkis is not like us. He doesn’t live the way we do. I wish you would let us alone.” Tcoóks said: “I am afraid of Ndúkis. He can beat everybody by getting up early. That is the kind he is. If you go around digging roots, he will be watching you. He won’t want you, but he will be mad. That is his way.” The next morning, when the girls started off, they said: “We are going to Mlaiksi.” [14] “Why do you go there so often?” asked their mother. “You had better not go to-day, you might meet Ndúkis.” “We will go where we like,” said the elder sister. “We are not afraid; Ndúkis can’t hurt us.” They started early, but Ndúkis was on the mountain, watching for them. The elder sister walked ahead. Every step she took she stumbled, as if the steps were telling her that she was going to meet somebody. At last she said to her sister: “My steps stumble. That means something.” “Tcoóks told us Ndúkis was a bad man when he got mad. It is your fault if we meet trouble,” said the younger girl.