The next time Tekewas came to the canoe and tried to tip it over, the boy cut her head off with his sharp knife. He threw the head down in the end of the canoe, then dragged the body into a deep hole among the rocks in the water. The water around that place is Tekewas’ blood, and to this day it is as black as ink. As they pushed the body down into the hole, the elder boy said to it: “You will never be great again. You will be small and weak, and people will say you are too nasty to eat.” The spirit came out of the body and flew around the lake, an ugly bird. The brothers shot ducks and piled them up on the head in the end of the canoe. When they got home, the elder boy said: “Grandmother, give us plenty of seeds and roots to eat.” While they were eating, the old woman began to bring in the ducks. Each time she went for a load, the elder brother talked to the fire, to the water, to the wood, to the bows and arrows, talked to the pounder, to the basket, and to the digging sticks, talked to everything in the house and everything outside, told them not to tell where he and his brother went,—but he forgot to tell awl. When he thought he had told everything, he took his brother and went down in the ground near the fire. He put a coal over the hole and started toward the east. Each time the old woman brought in a basketful of ducks, she asked: “Are you here, boys?” and the spirit in the wood and the fire answered: “We are here.” She found blood in the canoe, and wondered where it came from. When she got hold of the head, she screamed and ran to the house. She pulled her clothes off and was going to kill her grandsons. “Where are you?” cried she. “We are in the corner.” She went there, but didn’t find them. Then she called again: “Where are you?” “We are on the top of the house.” She looked for them there, then called: “Where are you?” “We are in the grass of the house.” The house was made of twigs and grass. Then they said they were among the wood. She pulled the logs apart and threw them out, but she didn’t find the boys. “We are in the canoe.” She went there, and when she failed to find them, she screamed: “Where are you?” “We are where your roots are.” She scattered the roots. “We are sitting in the fire.” She threw out the wood and coals. She hunted all night but couldn’t find them. At last awl said: “What are you going to do, old woman? The boys are not to blame. Your daughter was a bad woman; she killed her brothers, and then she wanted to kill her nephews. Your grandsons are a long way off; you can’t catch them. Look at that little coal. Under it is the hole where they went down in the ground.” The old woman saw the coal, picked it up, found the hole, and started to follow her grandsons. The boys traveled toward where the sun comes up. They wanted to be servants of Sun, to be of use to him. The first house they came to was on the south side of Tula Lake; Tohós, Wámanik’s wife, lived there; she was their aunt.