When four days old, the little boy could walk. The fifth day the elder boy cried all the time; he was wondering who had killed his father and mother. His grandmother had never told him; she only frightened him to make him careful. His little brother could play with him now. That night his grandmother asked: “What ails you? Why do you cry?” “Because I have nobody to play with.” “You are a lonely child, but you mustn’t think of that,” said his grandmother, and she began to cry. “To-morrow will you fill my sack full of pounded seeds?” asked the boy. “You can’t eat all I give you; you must waste it,” said his grandmother, “but you shall have all you want.” The little boy could eat a great deal; he ate the pounded seed his brother brought and that afternoon he cried for more. The elder boy made five straw rings to shoot at and roll around to amuse the little fellow. The next day, when the child began to cry for more seeds his brother went home, and said: “Grandmother, you must give me more pounded seeds. I shot my arrow up, and when it was coming down to hit me on the head, I ran away and it hit my sack and spilt all the seeds.” “You must be more careful,” said his grandmother. “You told me you would give me all I wanted to eat.” “Yes, but you must not waste things.” She filled a willow pan, and told him to go away before any one saw him. When night came, the boy gave his brother his bow and arrows, covered him with grass, and went home, crying. “What is the matter?” asked his grandmother. “I have lost my bow and arrow. I dropped them to follow a bird and kill it with a stone; when I came back I couldn’t find them.” “Don’t cry,” said his grandmother. “I will make you another bow and more arrows. You shall have everything you want.” “I threw away my moccasins to-day; I want a new pair,” said the boy. The next morning he had a nice pair of new moccasins. The two boys played all day, rolling straw rings and shooting at them with arrows. That night the old woman looked at her grandson and said: “You have only one head; where is the other?” “I didn’t have two heads,” said the boy, and he began to cry. “You had two heads.” “I had only one.” “You have always had two; now you have one. Where is the other?” At last he told her about his brother. “After it is dark,” said she, “go and bring your brother to the house.” He brought the little boy on his back. The old woman cried when she saw him; she rubbed him with ashes, and talked to the earth and mountains, asking them not to hurt him. In the morning she put both of the children in the hole where the first child had been and threw a straw mat over the hole. That day Tekewas came for roots. She saw the mat and asked: “Why did you throw away that nice mat?” “Go off!” cried her mother. “Don’t torment me. You have killed your brothers. My spirit is old; you can kill me if you want to, but don’t torment me. Go away and let me alone!” She drove her off.