Spring time had come when all the leaves of the trees and shrubbery had grown up, and the sap of the maple tree was full. Metch-cher-us-ah-may peeled the maple tree of its bark and took the inner layers that grow upon the surface of the hard wood of the tree and out of this bark she made a dress of beautiful fringes, softer than silk itself, as it hung in ripples about her body. From the yellow-hammer she plucked its beautiful golden feathers and made a cape in which she wrapped her shoulders and arms. Spring-time waned and mid-summer came; it was the last summer that she would spend on earth, as her faithful prayers had been answered and she was now ready to be taken to Werse-on-now (Heaven). Ah, she could now mount to the glories of Heaven without passing through that dark and shadowy vale of death. The High Priests, who had turned her away from the scared lodge, together with the other people, would all have to die and the earth would give them a grave. Their hands would never touch her body, the earth would give her no grave, but instead, her body would be carried through the winds and storms until she reached that Infinite Shore where she would dwell in the flowery meadows of Heaven. The evening before the day of her departure she brought all of her baskets she had made to her home and gave all of her wealth to her brother, telling him to watch for her in the early morning, as she was departing for a far better throne than she had ever known upon earth. In the early morning hours, ere the sun was shining over the mountains of the Klamath, she bathed her body with sweet scented herbs, put on her new maple dress and draped her shoulders with the gorgeous dyes of the yellow-hammer feathers, her long raven locks were combed and left flowing about her shoulders. Bidding her brother good-bye, he beheld her mount the rock where she had sat so many years in devout prayer; he alone saw her rise from the earth to go to the realms above. Swift as the lightning from Heaven she mounted the rock, bowing to the great creation of the world with her arms outstretched and her beautiful hair flowing, she stood erect with her face to Heaven in the north with her eyes closed. Out of the north, on his mighty wings, rose the red eagle and came to her feet on the rock. Dipping her hand to the west, to the land of the setting sun, she bade the world farewell and mounted the eagle’s back. With outstretched wings, gorgeously tipped in crimson, he rose from the rock with his fair princess mounted securely upon his back, and flew with her to the far north from whence he came. In the early dawn of the rising sun, in all the glories of Indian summer, her brother saw her mount the eagle and fly away to the Kingdom of Heaven, passing not through the gates of death.