The old man began to move around again. “Keep still, old man,” said Tskel. “As soon as they get away, you can pound your roots.” When he wouldn’t keep still, Tskel snatched his mortar and threw it out. The old man went quickly and brought it back. Pitoíois and the brothers traveled till midday; then the youngest brother put a small piece of dried meat in a basket. Right away the basket was full of meat. He put the basket on Pitoíois’ back and told her to go to her brothers’ house; they would be there by night. When Pitoíois’ brothers came home and found the arrow sticking up in the ground, and saw Wus’ tracks, they knew that he had been tormenting their sister, and that the five brothers, the great arrow men, had taken her away. They felt badly; they hung out the clothes she used to wear and began to cry. When Pitoíois was near home, she heard her brothers crying and it made her feel sad. They were glad when they saw her. When they asked where she had been, she said: “The five Wûlkûtska brothers saved me from Wus; I am the wife of the youngest brother.” “Where are they now?” asked her brothers. “On the mountain near here.” “You must get ready something for them to eat.” Pitoíois pounded roots, and her elder brother made a place for the men to sit. When they came in, he called the youngest man brother-in-law. The Wûlkûtska brothers felt badly; they were afraid that the old man would kill Tskel and then follow them. Old Wûlkûtska made Tskel sleep; then he tracked his sons. Soon he was on top of the last mountain. He was the fastest traveler in the world. He peeped over the top of the mountain and looked around in the valley. When the Wûlkûtska brothers and Pitoíois were ready to start for home, her brother said to the youngest Wûlkûtska: “She is all the sister we have; you must be good to her. She will work and help you feed your father.” When the brothers looked toward the mountain, they saw their father looking over the top of it. The eldest brother went around the mountain, came up behind the old man, and snatched the mortar from under his arm, just as he was taking it out to throw at Pitoíois. “Why are you here?” asked the son. “We told you to stay with Tskel. You are not safe when you are away from home.” “I wanted to see the brothers of my daughter-in-law.” “You can’t see them. Go home!” said the son, and he was so angry that he threw his father’s mortar over four mountains. It came down in front of their house. Old Wûlkûtska could do nothing without his mortar; he hurried after it. When Tskel woke up and didn’t see the old man, he was terribly scared. He went out to hunt for him just in time to see the mortar coming and dodge it. When it fell, he picked it up, took it to the creek, and buried it in mud; only the rim of the mortar could be seen. Tskel had to hurry, for the old man was coming fast, like a cloud. When he got to the house, he called to Tskel: “Where is my cap? Where is my cap?”