'I have killed the birds,' said he, 'and because you have helped me, I have brought you some food which will last you a long time. Now I must hurry home to my mother and grandmother.' Very glad they were to see him again, and for some time he stayed with them and collected grease for candles and provisions of all sorts, enough to last for many, many years. When this was done he said to his mother: 'Mother, I am going to leave you for ever, for I was not meant to be with you always, and I have finished that which I set myself to do. If what is hanging overhead should fall, you will know that I am dead. But as long as it remains where it is, do not trouble about me.' With that he went out. As he walked along the path, the son of Fire-drill beheld someone in front striding very fast; and the boy chased him till he came first to the Mink people and then to the Marten people. Both of them begged him to stay with them and help them, but he would not, and hurried on after the figure he had seen ahead of him, whose name was Dry-cloud. But when Fire-drill's son came to the Wolf people they begged him so hard to stop that at last he agreed to do so for a while; besides he was very tired, and wanted to rest. The Wolf Chief thought much of the boy, and they had great talk together. One day a large company of the Wolf tribe was present, and they spoke of the beasts which could run the fastest. 'The swiftest of all is the mountain goat,' said one; 'and it can jump from rock to rock, and none can come up with it. To-morrow,' he added, turning to the boy, 'we are going to hunt them, and if you are there with us you will see if there is any animal that can outrun a mountain goat.' 'I will be there,' answered the boy. So they started in the morning and hastened to the place, and each tried to be the first to kill one of the goats. But Fire-drill's son's dog got there before any of them, and killed many goats and the rest galloped away out of reach. Then the Wolves went up and carried the dead goats back to their people, and much ashamed they were that the dog had slain them all and they, the noted hunters, had got nothing. 'Men will speak ill of us if they know of this day's work,' said the Wolves, whispering together. 'How can we get the better of this son of Fire-drill?' Now one, cleverer than the rest, thought of a plan, and he bade the others cut a quantity of the long stringy creepers that grow on the mountains, and make them into hoops. These hoops they were to roll down the sides of the mountains, and jump backwards and forwards through them, when they were at full speed. It was a good game for their purpose, because anyone who touched the side of the hoops would be cut in two, because of the sharp edges. But the dog guessed this, and said to the boy: 'Friend, do not go near those people who are playing. You know nothing of the game, and those things may kill you.'