Old Djáudjau said to his son’s mind: “What do you think about it? That chief over in Wiwĕnsi wants your sisters.” The young man was so frightened that he didn’t know what to do. The old woman went outside and cried. Everybody knew that Wámanik was a bad man when he got mad, and that he got mad easily. The young man thought: “I sha’n’t live long if Wámanik marries my sisters.” Old man Djáudjau said: “I don’t know how Wámanik found out about us. I am sorry he wants my daughters. It is easy for him to get mad. He kills a great many people. I don’t care for myself, but I am afraid something will happen to my son.” When Djáudjau’s daughters came home and saw their mother crying, they asked: “What are you crying about?” She told them, and said: “My daughters, you must say something. Your brother never harms anybody. All he knows is how to be happy. If you don’t marry Wámanik, trouble will come to us.” “Why doesn’t Wámanik marry a woman of his own people, one that lives in the ground?” asked the eldest sister. “We are not of his people; we wouldn’t be happy in his house.” Then she began to make fun of Wisnik. When Wisnik got home, he said: “Those girls won’t marry you. They say they can’t live with our people. They told me to ask you why you didn’t marry a woman of your own kind. They are afraid of you; you get mad so easily.” “Those girls needn’t be so proud,” said Wámanik. “I was only trying them; I don’t want to marry them.” The next day Wámanik and Wisnik went to hunt for deer. They killed one and stopped at the foot of the mountain to roast some of the meat. Wisnik wanted to go home, but Wámanik said: “We will camp and stay here all night.” The next morning young man Djáudjau went to hunt. He didn’t kill anything; he couldn’t even find a track. Wámanik and Wisnik stayed in their camp for five days. Wisnik was singing all the time, but Djáudjau didn’t hear him. After five days Wámanik sent Wisnik home; he said: “You needn’t come again; I am going to stay here for ten days and hunt deer.” “Why do you do that?” asked Wisnik. “Old Djáudjau said you had no home; that you made it anywhere. You had better come back with me.” Wámanik wouldn’t go and he wouldn’t listen to anything Wisnik said. The young man hunted deer for five days, but couldn’t find even a track. Then he said to his father: “I can’t call deer; they don’t come when I sing. What can I do to get them?” The old man heated rocks and had his son steam himself; then he gave him some of the sweet-smelling stuff that comes out of the corners of a deer’s eyes, and said: “Swallow this; if you are going to kill a deer the smell of this stuff will come out of your mouth.” No smell came from the young man’s mouth, but he went to hunt. He tried to sing, but Wámanik drew his song from him; he couldn’t sing any longer. He went home and lay down. His mother asked: “What is the matter?” “I feel as if I couldn’t walk any longer. I feel as if I had to fly.”