“I feel so, too,” said the younger sister. They went into the house. Just then Gáukos’ sister came in like a whirlwind. “Tell me where my brother is!” screamed she. Nobody answered. The sisters didn’t know what she meant. “Where is he?” cried she. “I have tracked him to your house. Tell me where he is!” The elder sister put back her hair, and said: “We have been hunting; we don’t know anything about your brother. Ask our father or our mother.” Gáukos’ sister didn’t ask but she began to poke the fire around. That made the girls angry, for she was scratching their father’s face. “Why do you scratch my father?” screamed the elder sister. “This is not a living person; it is nothing but fire. I want to warm myself.” “That isn’t a common fire,” said the girl. “That’s our father! Let him alone!” She pushed her away. Gáukos’ sister jumped on the girl, opened her mouth and was going to chew her up and swallow her but the younger sister pulled her back by the hair. Old Lóluk said “Um! um!” Dûnwa raised herself up, rolled over on the girl and broke her legs. The old man opened his mouth wide, like two walls, the sisters caught hold of the girl and threw her into his mouth. Lóluk swallowed her. The elder sister said: “You will not do such things again. You will no longer be a person; you will be a bird, and lay eggs in the holes of cedar trees. People will kill you, for you will be good to eat.” Old Lóluk called Gáukos out of his hiding-place and fixed him a place between his two daughters. Dûnwa brought him seeds to eat; he was her son-in-law now. The next morning Gáukos asked for a bow and arrows. The elder sister brought him hers. He tried the string of the bow, and said: “This is not strong enough.” The younger sister brought her bow; he tried the string and said: “This will do.” Then he started. Dûnwa said to her elder daughter: “You must go, too. This place is new for him; he may have bad luck.” The young woman took her bow and arrows and followed Gáukos. When he looked back and saw her coming, he stopped and asked: “Why have you come?” “I came to show you where the deer are.” Right away they saw under a tree two deer hiding from flies. Gáukos crept up and shot both of them with one arrow. Then he told the woman to stay by the two while he looked for others. Soon he shot two more, and again two, and farther on he killed five; he put the nine deer in his belt and went back to his wife. “Put the deer down,” said she, “I want to tell you about my father and mother. My sister and I kill ten deer each day. Each night our mother eats all the bones of those ten deer and in the morning not a bone is left; our father eats the meat and the livers. As soon as we get home, we cut the deer open, take out the livers and put five of them in our father’s mouth. We give him meat three times each day. You mustn’t think about my father or my mother, for they know your thoughts.”