The storm came. It put out their fire, and for four days old Lok didn’t move. Five days the children were without anything to eat; then she asked the little boy: “How does it look now?” “It is raining.” The old woman said: “If it rains, you can go and dig roots.” The daughter cried and told her the children were starving. She gave them a few roots. The little boy said to his mother: “Why can’t we dig a hole near the roots and steal some of them?” “I know what you are talking about,” said the old woman. “I know that it is winter yet.” One morning she asked: “Is it spring?” Her daughter said: “I don’t know,” and she told the children not to tell their grandmother anything about the weather. It rained and hailed. Every night the mother and children cried. Each morning they stamped on the ground to find out if it were soft. One day the mother went off, and when she came back she brought a few roots. The children were sitting out of doors, and she heard the old woman ask them: “Where is your mother?” “She has gone for wood,” said the boy. The mother put away some of the roots and gave the rest to the children. The old woman asked: “Does it snow yet?” The little boy said: “There is so much snow that I can’t see the tops of the trees.” The grandmother put more gum on her eyes, rolled herself up tight, and lay still. The mother made two pairs of straw moccasins, and the next morning started for roots. It was spring now, and she found plenty for her children to eat. While she was gone, the old woman asked: “Which way is the wind?” “From the southwest,” said the boy. His mother had told him to fool his grandmother, and let her lie there all summer. The mother could make the wind blow—the wind was her medicine. Every time she found a fly in the house, she killed it with a porcupine quill, so the old woman wouldn’t know it was spring. There were a good many of the Lok people around the place where the mother dug roots; she left some roots for them to take care of, and said: “In two days I will come back and bring my children.” When she got home, she made moccasins for the children, and in the morning, when she was ready to start, she said to her mother: “It snows. I am tired of packing wood; I am going to take the children to the woods and keep a fire there; you never stay by the fire.” The mother worked all day and dug a great many roots; she had a big basketful to put away. She wondered where she could put them so the old woman couldn’t find them. Then she thought of Keŏnise, a hill where Lok didn’t go. It was a long way off, but she carried the roots there and hid them. When the children didn’t come back, the grandmother scratched around in the ashes, found live coals and melted the gum out of her eyes; then she tracked her daughter. As soon as the daughter knew that her mother was coming, she went to the house, took the roots out of the hole, and threw them around everywhere.