“I don’t know,” said Tskel. She took him up to carry him to the end of the trail where she could throw him into the lake. He got his knife out, a little at a time, and just as she was going to put him down again, he cut her head off. From each side of the ridge the water rushed up; the ridge shook and made a terrible noise. Tskel cut the woman’s body up, and threw the pieces into the water. As he threw them, he called out, “Here are Tskel’s ribs! Here is Tskel’s arm!” He threw the head; then ran with all his might. When the old man’s sons saw the head and knew that they had eaten their sister, they were so mad that they sent stone knives, beaded blankets and skins of all kinds to lie on the trail in front of Tskel. He had hard work to jump over them without getting burned, but he didn’t touch or hit even one. When he got home Skóŭks and little Tcûskai were mourning. Their hair was cut and pitch was running over their faces. They sat with their heads down and didn’t look up. Tskel sat down by Tcûskai, and asked: “Why are you so dirty?” Tcûskai jumped up, and cried out: “Are you here? I was just going to look for you.” Tskel said: “Heat some water. I am going to wash Skóŭks’ head, and yours, too.” After he had washed their heads, he wrapped a skin blanket around them, and the next morning Skóŭks and Tcûskai had nice long hair. Now Tskel moved off a little way from his old home. He made arrow points and killed deer. Kāhkaas was kin of Tskel and one day she came to visit him. Soon Tcûskai ran in, and said: “I see lots of little tracks around here. Twist me some strings, Kāhkaas, so I can trap the things that make the tracks.” Tskel said to Kāhkaas: “Maybe they are the tracks of your children. Where did you leave them?” “I left them high on a tree off in the middle of the great water. My children are safe.” Kāhkaas twisted strings for Tcûskai and he set his trap. Soon he came back bringing the five Kāhkaas boys in his trap. Kāhkaas was terribly angry and sorry; she said: “Give them to me; I will go off in the woods and roast and eat them.” (She went to bury them.) Tcûskai watched Kāhkaas. Tskel knew that trouble would come, that Kāhkaas would try and kill them. He lay down, he felt sorry. Soon Tcûskai cried: “Get up, brother! A great elk is coming. I’ll go and kill it.” “Don’t go in front of it,” said Tskel. “Shoot it from behind!” Tcûskai shot three times at the elk; each time he hit its horns. Then the elk turned, caught him on her horns, and ran off to the mountains. She ran a long way, then changed into Kāhkaas and flew, with Tcûskai, to the tree on the island in the middle of the ocean.