One morning, when Kówam had gone to the lake, and his old mother-in-law was out gathering wood, Kówam’s wife sat down by the fire and began to make a reed basket for Kówam to put fish in. After a while the old woman ran in and cried: “The big-footed people are coming!” Soon the five Lok brothers came in and sat down by the fire. The eldest brother put his head on the young woman’s lap. Gágha began to cry, and Lok said: “Why do you cry, little boy? Are you sorry for me because I haven’t a wife? This woman is my wife.” Gágha kept crying. At midday his eyes were so swollen that he could hardly open them. “Stop crying,” said his sister-in-law. “Go and find your brother and tell him that the big-footed men are here. Maybe nothing has happened, and he doesn’t know there is trouble at home.” Gágha cried all the time he was going to the lake. When he found his brother Kówam asked: “What’s the matter? What makes you cry? Did you hurt yourself?” “No,” said Gágha, “five of the big-footed people from the north side of the lake are in our house, and one of them has his head on my sister-in-law’s knees.” “Is she crying?” asked Kówam. “No, but I’ve cried all the time, I’m so sorry they have taken my sister-in-law away from me.” “If she isn’t crying, she doesn’t care for us, and there is no use in crying. If they had made her cry, I should kill those men.” Kówam sat still a long time; he was thinking what he could do. Then he said to Gágha: “Stop crying and get some wood; we will cook fish to eat. You must hurry, so we can go home before it’s dark.” Little Gágha could hardly stand; he had cried so long that he was dizzy. Kówam said: “Don’t cry any longer. I know what I will do to those big-footed people.” They built a fire and cooked fish. Gágha’s tears were dropping all the time he was eating. “Stop crying and finish eating!” said his brother. “Whenever a man has a nice wife he is bothered. It will always be that way.” Kówam filled an old basket with fish, picked it up, put it on his back, and said: “Now we will go home.” “How can we go home while those big-footed people are there?” asked Gágha. He was crying again. “I am not afraid of those men,” said Kówam. “That is my house; I will drive them out of it or I will kill them.” When they were part of the way home, Kówam said: “Little brother, take my bow and arrow and shoot me in the heart.” “How can I do that? You are my brother.” “It won’t hurt me. I want you to practise shooting.” “You are my own brother, all the one I have. I won’t do it,” said Gágha. “You must,” said Kówam. “It won’t hurt me.” “It will kill you; then I shall be all alone,” said Gágha. Kówam talked a long time, asked in every way, but Gágha always said: “You are my brother; I won’t kill you.” At last Kówam said: “If you don’t shoot me and make me strong, I will let the big-footed people have your sister-in-law; I won’t try to kill them. You can’t kill me. Nobody can kill me; I shall live always.”