She said: “Who are you? No living person looks as ugly as you do. Go away!” Wûspahlákls lay down on the trail; he didn’t listen to her. She went around him on the north side. When she came to the Heûwûs’ place, she sat down and looked at them. She said: “Why, you nice little Heûwûs, you are as smooth as you can be.” She picked up one and struck the ground with him; he didn’t break. She said: “Oh it is not easy to break you, is it?” The Heûwûs screamed: “Oh! Oh! you hurt me! You think that I am not a living being, but I am.” “You are talking to me; I am glad,” said the girl. “That is what I want. You haven’t spoken to me before, but I have heard you talk about me. I don’t hate you. You belong here, and so do I. I thought we should be here always and be friends, but you don’t want it that way.” She put the Heûwûs down and went on. Soon she saw Wûspahlákls again; he sat on the trail in front of her. She called to him: “Get out of my way!” When he didn’t move, she took off a bone scratcher she wore around her neck, went up to him, scratched off all of his flesh, and pounded him to death. Then she went on. The next morning Wûspahlákls crossed the trail in front of her and went into the bushes. The girl stopped; she was scared. She went home, painted her body and her hair red, and started of in another direction; she traveled around everywhere and asked every one she met: “Who owns you?” She asked the rocks, the trees, the leaves. At last she asked a little hill: “Who are you?” “I am Lŭl′uphlainik,” said the hill. “Whose eye are you?” asked the girl. “I am this earth’s eye.” The girl camped by the hill, and said to it: “I want you to tell me about yourself.” The hill said: “All these things around here belong to the earth; they were made at the same time. This is not a good place for you. Over on the lake, where two little air boys live, is a nice place for you.” The girl was short and thin, and after she was painted she was red all over. She started for the lake. As she was passing a mountain, a voice spoke out of it, and asked: “Where are you going?” Right away she was gone; she sank into the earth; only one eye looked out of the ground. “Where have you gone now?” asked the voice. “I am looking at you,” said the girl. “You are bad. I want you to be something else.” She came out of the ground, rubbed black paint on her hands, and on her face, from her chin to the top of her forehead. Then she asked: “Who are you who talk so much and make such a noise? I want you to go far off on the mountain, where you can’t bother people who are traveling around. Go where you won’t be seen often.” He couldn’t go unless he looked at her. She knew this, so she said: “Look at me; I want to be friends with you.” He had to look at her; he couldn’t help it.