“I am going away from this place,” said Kumush, “I am tired of being here.” At daybreak he took his daughter’s bones, and went around selecting bones according to their quality, thinking which would do for one tribe and which for another. He filled a basket with them, taking only shin-bones and wrist-bones. He put the basket on his back and started to go up the eastern road, the road out. The path was steep and slippery, and his load was heavy. He slipped and stumbled but kept climbing. When he was half-way up, the bones began to elbow him in the back and neck, struggling to kill him. When near the top the strap slipped from his forehead and the basket fell. The bones became spirits, and, whooping and shouting, fell down into the big house and became bones again. “I’ll not give up,” said Kumush; “I’ll try again.” He went back, filled the basket with bones and started a second time. When he was half-way up he said: “You’ll see that I will get to the upper world with you bones!” That minute he slipped, his cane broke and he fell. Again the bones became spirits and went whooping and shouting back to the big house. Kumush went down a second time, and filled the basket. He was angry, and he chucked the bones in hard. “You want to stay here,” said he, “but when you know my place up there, where the sun is, you’ll want to stay there always and never come back to this place. I feel lonesome when I see no people up there; that is why I want to take you there. If I can’t get you up now, you will never come where I am.” When he put the basket on his back the third time, he had no cane, so he thought: “I wish I had a good, strong cane.” Right away he had it. Then he said: “I wish I could get up with this basketful of bones.” When half-way up the bones again tried to kill him. He struggled and tugged hard. At last he got near the edge of the slope, and with one big lift he threw the basket up on to level ground. “Maklaksûm káko!” (Indian bones) said he.