Kútĕrastan, as if waking from a long sleep, sat up and rubbed his face and eyes with both hands. Then bending forward, he looked up into the endless darkness, and lo! light appeared everywhere above him. He then looked down, and all below became a sea of light. A glance to the east created yellow streaks of dawn, another to the west the saffron tints of the dying day, both soon becoming obscured by numerous clouds of many hues, formed by his looking around and about in all directions. Again with both hands Kútĕrastan wiped his eyes and sweating face and, rubbing his hands together as if he were rolling a small pebble between the palms, suddenly parted them with a quick downward fling, and there before him on a shining, vaporless, mirage-like cloud sat a little girl no larger than a doll. Kútĕrastan directed her to stand up, asking where she intended to go, but she replied not. He cleared his vision once more with his hands, then proffered his right hand to the girl, Stĕnátlĭhăn, Woman Without Parents, who grasped it, with the greeting "Whence came you?" For reply Kútĕrastan merely repeated her question, adding, "Look to the east, it is light! There will be light in the south, in the west, and in the north." And as she looked she saw light. He then came out upon the cloud. "Where is the earth?" asked Stĕnátlĭhăn, to which Kútĕrastan replied by asking: "Where is the sky?" Then requesting that he be not disturbed, he began to sing: "I am thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking what shall I do next." Four times he thus sang, at the end of the fourth time brushing his face with his hands, which he rubbed briskly together and parted quickly; and there before him stood Chuganaái, the Sun. Raising his left hand to his brow, from the sweat thereon, which he rolled in his hands as before, Kútĕrastan let drop from his right palm a small boy, Hádĭntĭn Skhĭn.