Her father, who was unmarried, was splitting cane to make a winnowing basket when he ran a splinter into his hand: the splinter grew into a little child; (after a time) the child was brought forth motherless and they called her Kúngóri. They fed her with single grains of millet and rice, and so little by little she grew big. Two or three years passed by and she attained puberty; she was very pretty, and all the young-men of the village wanted to marry her, but her father refused them all. Then the young tiger-man, Keimi, took up the impression of her foot and wrapped it up and placed it on the bamboo grating over the house fire to dry. Then Kúngóri became ill. Kúngóri's father said, "If there be anyone that can cure her, he shall have my daughter." All the villagers tried, but not one of them could do any good. Then the young tiger-man came. "I will cure her, and I will marry her afterwards," said he. Her father said, "Cure the girl first and you may then have her." So he cured her; the footprint which he had placed to dry on the fire-shelf he opened out and threw away. Kúngóri became well and Keimi married her. "Come, Kúngóri," said he, "will you go to my house?" So they went; on the road Keimi turned himself into a tiger, Kúngóri caught hold of his tail, and they ran like the wind. Some women of the village were gathering wood and they saw this, so they went back home and said to Kúngóri's father, "Your daughter has got a tiger for a husband." Kúngóri's father said, "Whoever can go and take Kúngóri may have her," but no one dared to take her. However, Hpohtir and Hrangchal, two friends, said, "We will take her." Kúngóri's father said, "If you are able to take her you may have her," so Hpohtir and Hrangchal set off. Going on they came to Keimi's village. The young tiger-man, Keimi, had gone out hunting; before he reached his house Hpohtir and Hrangchal went to Kúngóri. "Kúngóri," said they, "where is your husband?" "He is gone out hunting," she said, "but will be home directly." On this they became afraid, and Hpohtir and Hrangchal climbed up on to the top of the high fire-shelf. Kúngóri's husband arrived. "There is the smell of a human being," said he. "It must be my smell," said Kúngóri. Night fell; everyone ate their dinners and lay down to rest. In the morning Kúngóri's husband again went out to hunt. A widow said (to the two friends), "If you are going to run away with Kúngóri take fire-seed, thorn-seed, and water-seed (with you)." So they took fire-seed, thorn-seed, and water-seed, and they took Kúngóri also and carried her off. Kúngóri's husband returned home. He looked and found Kúngóri was gone, so he followed after them in hot haste. A little bird called to Hrangchal. "Run! run! Kúngóri's husband will catch you," said the bird. So (the friends) scattered the fire-seed, and the jungle and undergrowth burnt furiously, so that Kúngóri's husband could not come any further. When the fire subsided he again resumed the pursuit.