Blaiwas said: “Little Kékina never tells a lie; somebody must be coming. Go and see who it is. Tell old man Moi to look; he can see everything under the sky and in the whole world.” Moi said: “Somebody is coming. Tell the people to be ready to shoot when I call out.” The people made a ring, and when Wŏn came, he rushed inside of it. Then every one shot at him; Kéis hit him in the foot, Näníhläs hit him on the horns, Blaiwas hit him in the shoulder. At last they killed him. When Wŏn was on the ground, Kéis jumped on one of his legs; he wanted to get meat from the middle of it. (Tcûskai hadn’t come yet.) People said to Kéis: “Get off; don’t make Tcûskai mad. He has been following Wŏn for a long time.” Tcûskai came slowly, for he was tired. When he got to the place, he told Kéis to get off Wŏn and help to skin him. Kéis wouldn’t move. Tcûskai pushed him away, but he jumped back; then Tcûskai threw him off and told him he was in a hurry, for he had far to go. The third time Kéis got on to Wŏn, Tcûskai threw him over a mountain, but he was back in a minute. Tcûskai was so mad that he pounded Kéis’ head till he made it flat. That is why rattlesnakes have flat heads. He cut off Wŏn’s foot that Kéis had hit with an arrow and threw it after Kéis. Gäk had shot Wŏn in the leg, and Tcûskai gave that leg to Gäk. And so he divided Wŏn’s body among the people; then he took a large piece on his back and started for home. When it was dark, he camped in a woodpecker’s hole, in a tall tree. Kéis was a great doctor. He was mad and he made it snow all night; he thought he could kill Tcûskai in that way. But Tcûskai made a fire in the woodpecker’s hole, and kept himself warm. He put a round stone in the fire and heated it, and in the morning, when he started for home, he rolled the hot stone along on the ground in front of him. Where the stone went, the trail was dry. Everywhere else the snow was so deep that only the tops of trees could be seen. When Tcûskai got to the house, he went in quietly, didn’t make any noise. Tskel and Skóŭks were mourning for him; they didn’t see him, or hear him. He asked: “Why are you mourning? Did you think that I was lost? Your heads don’t look nice; they don’t smell nice. Go and wash them.” They were glad now. Skóŭks went out to get the meat Tcûskai had brought; she couldn’t move it. Then Tskel went; he couldn’t raise it from the ground. “What is the matter?” asked Tcûskai. “I didn’t bring that meat with the head strap; I used the chest strap.” He carried it into the house with one hand; then he blew on it and made it small, but there was meat enough to last all winter.