One day when he was hunting, Isis used his last arrow. Kumush said: “I will make some arrows, but you must get eagle feathers to put on them. When I was coming home I saw an eagle’s nest on the top of a tree. There were eggs in it; the eggs are hatched by this time. You can get some of the young eagles.” And he told him where the tree was. When Isis came to the tree, he took off his buckskin clothes and climbed up to the nest. He found the eagles and threw them to the ground. As he threw the last one, he looked down, and he nearly lost his mind, for at Kumush’s word the tree had grown so tall that it almost touched the sky. Isis’ clothes were under the tree. He saw Kumush come and put them on, then pick up the eagles, and start for home. Before leaving the house, Kumush had said to Isis’ wives: “I am going for wood.” When he came back, the women thought he was Isis. When he asked: “Where is Kumush?” they said: “He went for wood and hasn’t come back.” Kumush hurried the sun down and right away it was dark. All the women except Wálwilegas, Kols, Tcíkas and Tókwa thought he was Isis. The next morning Tcíkas asked Wálwilegas what she thought. “He isn’t Isis,” said Wálwilegas. “That is what I think,” said Tcíkas. Kols cried and tears ran down her cheeks. “Tears,” said she, “are a sign that Isis is in trouble.” “What are you talking about?” asked Kumush. “Hurry up and get me something to eat. I don’t want people to come here to gamble; we will go where they are.” After Kumush had eaten enough, he and all the women, except Wálwilegas, Kols and Tcíkas, started for Pitcowa, the place where Isis always went to gamble. (A broad flat northeast of Tula Lake.) As Kumush traveled, he set fire to the grass; the smoke went crooked. People saw it, and said: “That is not Isis. Isis’ smoke always goes straight up to the sky.” Kumush knew their thoughts. He tried to make the smoke go straight; part went straight and part went crooked. Then they said: “Maybe that is Isis.” When he got near, the people asked: “Where is Kumush?” “He stayed at home; he didn’t want to come.” Some thought: “This man doesn’t look just like Isis,” but they began to gamble with him. When all the women had gone except Wálwilegas and Tcíkas and Kols, Kols began to track her husband. Wálwilegas followed her. Tcíkas put her baby on her back and started for Pitcowa. She felt lonesome. She traveled slowly, digging roots as she went along. Kols tracked Isis to the tree. Then she said: “He is up in this tree, but he must be dead.” “He is alive,” said Wálwilegas. “I hear him breathe. He loved his other wives and didn’t care for us. They have gone off with another man; now he will find out who loves him.”