At sunset Kumush made himself small, smaller than any thing living in the world. His daughter put him in a crack, high up in a corner of the broad house, and made a mist before his eyes. When it was dark, Wus-Kumush, the keeper of the house, said: “I want a fire!” Right away a big, round, bright fire sprang up in the center, and there was light everywhere in the house. Then spirits came from all sides, and there were so many that no one could have counted them. They made a great circle around Kumush’s daughter, who stood by the fire, and then they danced a dance not of this world, and sang a song not of this world. Kumush watched them from the corner of the house. They danced each night, for five nights. All the spirits sang, but only those in the circle danced. As daylight came they disappeared. They went away to their own places, lay down and became dry, disjointed bones. Wus-Kumush gave Kumush’s daughter goose eggs and crawfish. She ate them and became bones. All newcomers became bones, but those who had been tried for five years, and hadn’t eaten anything the Skoks gave them, lived in shining settlements outside, in circles around the big house. Kumush’s daughter became bones, but her spirit went to her father in the corner. On the sixth night she moved him to the eastern side of the house. That night he grew tired of staying with the spirits; he wanted to leave the underground world, but he wanted to take some of the spirits with him to people the upper world. “Afterward,” said he, “I am going to the place where the sun rises. I shall travel on the sun’s road till I come to where he stops at midday. There I will build a house.” “Some of the spirits are angry with you,” said Wus-Kumush. “Because you are not dead they want to kill you; you must be careful.” “They may try as hard as they like,” said Kumush; “they can’t kill me. They haven’t the power. They are my children; they are all from me. If they should kill me it would only be for a little while. I should come to life again.” The spirits, though they were bones then, heard this, and said: “We will crush the old man’s heart out, with our elbows.” Kumush left Wus-Kumush and went back to the eastern side of the house. In his corner was a pile of bones. Every bone in the pile rose up and tried to kill him, but they couldn’t hit him, for he dodged them. Each day his daughter moved him, but the bones knew where he was, because they could see him. Every night the spirits in the form of living people danced and sang; at daylight they lay down and became disconnected bones.