When Yaukùl took hold of the elder boy’s wrists, the bones cracked, and he was glad. “Now it is my turn,” said the boy. He caught hold of Yaukùl’s wrists, broke them, and killed him. Then he tore out the old man’s arms, and said: “You will no longer be a person and have arms; you will be a bird with legs, and you will stand by the water to watch which way the wind blows, so as to find dead fish to eat. You, Gäk, will no longer be a man; you will fly in the air and go around among the rocks to watch for what hunters throw away, and what you find you will eat.” Then he said to Gapni: “You will no longer be the wisest man in the world; you will live in people’s heads. Some will crack you, like this”—he took him in his fingers and cracked him—“others will put you in the fire, and others will catch you in their heads and will bite you to pay you for biting them. You will waken people at night, and they will catch and kill you.” He burned up the dirt house, and said: “Hereafter, Yaukùl, you will have no home, you will live everywhere in the world.” Tohós, their aunt, had told them that after passing Yaukùl’s house, they would be out of their own country and must go along at the foot of mountains, for on the mountains a one-legged man was always walking around. But they were traveling east and couldn’t go around the mountains. On the first one they came to, they met the one-legged man, Yahyáhaäs. He had a great, bushy head, his face and body were painted red, his blanket was made of untanned elk-skin, and rattled as he walked. On his back he carried a straw quiver. He had only one leg, but he traveled very fast. He came up to the boys, and sitting down said: “I didn’t think that I should meet anybody.” “I didn’t expect to see you,” said the elder boy, “but a little while ago I felt that somebody was looking at me.” “Why don’t you light your pipe?” asked Yahyáhaäs. (This was always his question.) “I have no pipe,” said the younger boy. “Everybody who travels should have a pipe,” said the man. He lighted his own and handed it to the elder brother. The first whiff the boy drew the pipe broke. “Why did you bite my pipe and break it?” asked Yahyáhaäs. “I didn’t break it; I drew a whiff, and the pipe fell apart.” “You are the first man to break my pipe. Let me take your pipe.” When he had it, he said: “I will keep this to pay for mine.” “No,” said the boy, “that pipe rests me when I am tired; you can’t have it.” “I shall keep it to pay for mine,” said Yahyáhaäs. He drew a whiff, handed the pipe back, and said: “Put in more tobacco.” When he had the pipe again, he struck it against a rock, but it didn’t break; then he took a rock and pounded it. “Don’t break my pipe,” said the boy. “I didn’t mean to break yours.” Yahyáhaäs threw the pipe against a great rock, and the pipe rolled to its owner. He picked it up, put it in his pouch, and put the pouch into his quiver. The one-legged man built a fire. “Now we will wrestle,” said he.