“I have been mourning for you,” said Kumush. “I thought you were killed. Over there by the bushes I saw tracks; I will go and look at them.” He tried the old trick, but Wanaga wasn’t fooled; he took the woodchuck with him. It was cold, but Kumush followed Wanaga. He followed him all winter. In the spring, when Kumush was only one day behind, Wanaga came upon porcupine tracks. He made a fire near an old tree where he thought the porcupines would come when it began to grow dark. He hadn’t been there long before he saw a porcupine and killed it; then he saw another and killed it. The next day, when he was cooking the porcupines, Kumush came up. “How did you kill those porcupines?” asked he. Wanaga was mad, but he said: “Sit down and eat, then I will tell you how I catch porcupines.” When they were through eating, Wanaga said: “If I want to kill porcupines, I find a tree where I think they live; I set fire to the tree, then I wrap my blanket tight around me and lie down under it; when the tree gets to burning well, the porcupines fall out of it.” Wanaga traveled on, and Kumush stopped to kill porcupines. He set a tree on fire, wrapped his blanket tight around him and lay down. The tree burned quickly, and soon limbs began to fall. A heavy bough fell on Kumush, and he thought: “That is a big porcupine!” Another fell. Kumush lay still; he thought: “Oh, I shall have lots of big, fat porcupines!” At last the tree fell and killed him. His body was burned up, nothing was left of it but the skull and the disk. They lay in the ashes for a long time; at last the morning star saw them and called out: “What is the matter, old man? Why do you sleep so long? Get up!” Kumush sprang up, and right away began to track Wanaga. It was warm weather, and Wanaga was hunting woodchucks among the rocks. He had killed five when Kumush came. Wanaga divided the meat with his brother, and the two spent the night together. “How do you kill woodchucks?” asked Kumush. “When I see one among the rocks, I jump down and catch it. It is easy for me; I am used to it.” They started on together, Wanaga ahead. Kumush saw a woodchuck; he jumped and caught it, then he cooked and ate it, for Wanaga had told him he must eat the first one he caught before he tried to catch another. When his stomach was full, he saw a woodchuck down in a hole between high rocks; he jumped, struck on the rocks, burst open and died. His body lay there a long time; then crows came and ate it up, till only the disk was left. They tried to eat that, but couldn’t. At last the morning star saw the disk and cried out: “What are you doing down there, old man? Get up. Wanaga has gone far; you must hurry!” Kumush sprang up. “Oh, I was sleeping!” said he.