The next day Kalaslákkas went with Blaiwas and his people to hunt deer. “Can you call deer to the mountains?” asked Kalaslákkas. “There is no way to call them,” said Blaiwas. “I will call them,” said the young man. He tied his hair up in a bunch on the top of his head, then he whistled like an elk. Down where the elks were they talked to one another. Kalaslákkas heard them ask: “Are any of our people gone? Somebody, our brother or sister, is calling us. We must go and see who it is.” All the elks went in a crowd toward the place where they heard the whistle; when they saw Kalaslákkas they ran off. As the last one was getting out of sight, the young man shot at him and killed the whole line; only two were left. All night Blaiwas’ people were cutting up meat. In the morning, Kalaslákkas told his wife to carry some deer meat to her father and brothers. When the youngest brother saw his sister coming with something on her back, he called out: “Our sister is coming!” The brothers were glad, and the father said: “That is what daughters and sisters are for, to feed us from whatever family they marry into.” They got ready and went back with her. When the old man saw the meat and skins, he said: “My son-in-law is the strongest man in the world,” and he began to boast. Blaiwas’ people made elk-skin coats, then they made sharp arrows to see which man could send an arrow through the skins. Soon they got mad at one another and began to fight. Now Kalaslákkas’ wife had a little boy. The father, to keep awake five days and five nights, went off to the mountains to roam around. When the grandmother came, she asked: “Is the baby a boy or a girl?” “A boy,” said the mother. “Oh, my poor grandson,” cried the old woman, “he will lose his life. For a girl, it is right to go to the mountains, but for a boy he should have stayed here. What mountain did he go to?” “To Sláptcatcak.” “Oh, my grandson, my poor grandson,” cried the old woman, “he is lost.” That night the mother shut her eyes and nodded; she thought some one said to her: “Look this way.” She looked and saw men in elk-skin coats fighting, and the man who talked to her said: “This will grow and grow. Hereafter people will always fight.” When she woke up, she cried: “Grandmother, I couldn’t keep awake; I nodded and dreamed,” and she told the dream. “You have brought great misfortune on your people,” said the old woman. The mother couldn’t help closing her eyes again. This time she saw the elk-skin coats lying piled up; their wearers were dead.