“Woffy[28] Latwin, Laffy Latwin, wickīūtūwit,”
he shuts his eyes for the night; and all the little birds are silent until his voice is again heard in the morning, when all awake, for they know that another day has dawned.
When Mīko, who now styled himself Set-cāto, reached the home of Laffy Latwin, he said:—
“How long have you lived in this tree?”
“Ever since your great grandfather, ‘K’chī Mūsos,’ was born in that hollow cedar-tree which you just left,” replied Laffy Latwin.
“How long do you mean to stay here?”
“As long as this tree lasts. When this one is gone, I will move to another,” replied Laffy Latwin.
But Mīko, or Set-cāto, as we must now call him, had never before been so high above the ground; and though the home of Laffy Latwin was cold and damp, he was greatly pleased with the situation, and wished to build a house for himself in the very same hole, so he said:
“My friend, you have lived here long enough. You had better move out, and let me move in.”
Laffy Latwin was troubled, yet he answered in his usual good-natured way:—