In free prose narrative particular stress is laid upon the completeness of the succession of events. Both Pueblo and Kwakiutl informants criticize tales from this point of view. A Pueblo will say, “You cannot say, ‘he entered the house,’ for he must first climb up the ladder, then down into the house. He must greet those present properly and receive the proper courteous reply.” None of these steps may be omitted. This is illustrated by the example of the Laguna tale referred to before (see p. 305). The Kwakiutl cannot say, “Then he spoke,” but they would say “Then he arose, spoke and said.” They do not allow a person to arrive at a place without first letting him start and travel. An epic diffusiveness, an insistence on details is characteristic of most free primitive narrative. Besides these free elements, primitive prose contains passages of fixed form which are, to a great extent, the source of its attractiveness to the hearer. Quite often these passages consist of conversation between the actors and in these, deviations from the fixed formula, are not permitted. In other cases they are of rhythmic form and must be considered poetry, chants or songs rather than prose. In almost all reliable collections the fixed, formal parts are of considerable importance. In a few cases, as among the Wailaki of California, the connective text disappears almost completely. In contrast to the fullness of the free narrative these formal parts are apt to be so brief that they are obscure unless the significance of the story is known to the hearers. Examples of these are the brief tales of the Eskimo. In Cumberland Sound I recorded the following example:[123] a tale of a woman and the Spirit of the Singing-House. “Where is its owner? Where is its master? Has the singing-house an owner? Has the singing-house a master? It has no owner.”—“Here he is, there he is.”—“Where are his feet? Where are the calves of his legs? Where are his knees? Where are his thighs?”—“Here they are, there they are.”—“Where is his stomach?”—“Here it is, there it is.”—“Where is his chest? Where is his arm? Where is his neck? Where is his head?”—“Here it is, there it is.” He had no hair. [123] Journal of American Folk-lore, Vol. 7, (1894), p. 45. This means that the woman felt for the supernatural owner of the singing-house. He is supposed to have bandy legs, no hair and no occipital bone. To touch his soft head is immediate death. The same observation may be made in formulas of the Chukchee.[124] [124] W. Bogoras, Publications of Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Vol. VIII, Chukchee Texts, p. 133. “I call Raven. My abdomen I make into a bay. The bay is frozen. Icebound rubbish is there. All this rubbish is frozen in the ice of the bay. It is the disease of my stomach. Oh, you my stomach, you are full of pain. I make you into a frozen bay, into an old ice floe, into a bad ice floe.