Suddenly the Moon looked up and saw the boy intently watching the swelling pot and the rapid playing of the paddle. Instantly the Moon struck him, cutting off his head.
Chal-chal′ was not there. He did not see it, but he knew Ka-bi-gat′ cut off his son’s head by striking with her pĭp-i′.
He hastened to the spot, picked the lad up, and put his head where it belonged—and the boy was alive.
Then the Sun said to the Moon:
“See, because you cut off my son’s head, the people of the Earth are cutting off each other’s heads, and will do so hereafter.”
“And it is so,” the story-tellers continue; “they do cut off each other’s heads.”
Origin of coling, the serpent eagle[1]
A man and woman had two boys. Every day the mother sent them into the mountains for wood to cook her food. Each morning as she sent them out she complained about the last wood they brought home.
One day they brought tree limbs; the mother complained, saying: