“Oh,” said Kaltsik, “you should tell Tskel where his brother is. I’m sorry for him; he feels lonesome.” “Come to-morrow,” said Súbbas, and he hurried along. It was night when Kaltsik got down to the ground. The next morning he started and before midday he turned himself into weeds and lay on Súbbas’ path. When Súbbas came rushing along, he said: “What is this? I never saw anything on my trail before.” Kaltsik sprang up. “Why have you come here?” asked Súbbas. “I have no time to spend talking.” Kaltsik said: “Tskel will give you anything you want if you will tell him where Tcûskai is. He has all kinds of things; beautiful beads—” “I am brighter than beads. I don’t want beads!” said Súbbas, “but I want a ring and a string of green shells to hang on my ears, and a white blanket to cover me on bright days. Tell Tskel to send you up to-morrow, if he has those things to give me.” Súbbas went on and Kaltsik got back to earth just before dark. He told Tskel what Súbbas wanted, and Tskel began to make the things. He worked all night; in the morning they were ready, and Kaltsik took them up to Súbbas. Súbbas was glad.—He still wears the ring. People can see it just before a storm. (Circle around the sun. It is called Wänämsäkät­saliyis.) They can see his green shells and his white blanket, too.—When he had them all, he said: “This morning when I was over that mountain in the east, I heard a man chopping wood and off on an island I caught the smell of burning flesh. That old man on the mountains has Tcûskai.” When Tskel found out where his brother was, he turned himself into an old woman, with a hump on her back, and went to the mountain. When the man saw him, he said: “I think you are Tskel.” Tskel said: “I’m not a man, I’m an old woman. I heard that you had caught Tskel’s brother and were going to kill him; I want to see him.” “I have him on an island; he’ll die soon. He killed all of my sons. Now I am going to kill him. Help me with this wood.” Tskel helped pack up a load of wood, then the old man bent over and Tskel put the load on his back and gave him a cane to help himself up by. “Bend,” said he to the cane. “Break and go into the old man’s heart.” The cane broke and one half of it struck the old man in the heart and killed him. Tskel put the pieces together and the cane was whole again. The old man had told Tskel that he was so glad to have Tcûskai that he danced all the time he was carrying wood to smoke him. Tskel strapped the pack of wood on his own back and danced along with it till he came to the canoe; then he danced in the canoe.