after it had disappeared a few of the Ute began to nod and close their eyes; soon the others showed signs of drowsiness; some stretched themselves out on the ground overpowered with sleep; others rose and departed from time to time, singly and in little groups, to seek their lodges and repose there. The last to drop asleep were the old man and the old woman who sat at the door; but at length their chins fell upon their bosoms. Then the Navajo, fearing no watchers, went to work and loosened the cords that bound him; he lifted, from the inside, some of the pegs which held the edge of the tent, and shoved out the two bags of embroideries which Qastcèëlçi had told him to take. Passing out through the door of the lodge, where he found both the watch-dogs sound asleep, and taking with him the cords with which he had been tied and some of the tobacco, he went round to the back of the lodge, where he had put the bags; these he tied with the cords in such a manner that they would make an easily balanced double bundle. He shouldered his bundle and was all ready to start. 33. At this moment he heard, at a little distance to the south of where he stood, the hoot of an owl. Instantly recollecting the words of the owl-like form which he had encountered at the spring at nightfall, he set off in the direction from which the call proceeded. He had not walked far until he came to a precipitous bluff formed by two branching cañons, and it seemed at first impossible for him to proceed farther. Soon, however, he noticed a tall spruce tree, which grew beside the precipice from the foot to the summit, for the day had now begun to dawn and he could see objects more clearly. At this juncture Qastcèëlçi again appeared to him and said: “How is it, my grandchild, that you are still here? Get on the top of that spruce tree and go down into the cañon on it.” The Navajo stretched out his hand to seize the top of the tree, but it swayed away from his grasp. “See, my grandfather,” he said to Qastcèëlçi, “it moves away from me; I cannot reach it.” Then Qastcèëlçi flung the white lightning around the top of the tree, as an Indian flings his lasso around the neck of a horse, and drew it in to the edge of the cliff. “Descend,” he commanded the Indian, “and when you reach the bottom take four sprays from the tree, each from a different part. You may need them in the future.” So the Navajo went down, took the four sprays as he was bidden and put them under his robe.