Pauppukkeewis found himself standing on a prairie, having assumed his mortal shape. After walking a short distance, he saw a herd of elks feeding. He admired the apparent ease and enjoyment of their life, and thought there could be nothing more pleasant than to have the liberty of running about, and feeding on the prairies. He asked them if they could not change him into an elk.
“Yes,” they answered, after a pause. “Get down on your hands and feet.” He did so, and soon found himself an elk.
“I want big horns and big feet,” said he. “I wish to be very large.”
“Yes, yes,” they said. “There,” exerting all their power, “are you big enough?”
“Yes,” he answered, for he saw he was very large.
They spent a good time in playing and running.
Being rather cold one day he went into a thick wood for shelter, and was followed by most of the herd. They had not been there long before some elks from behind passed them like a strong wind. All took the alarm, and off they ran, Pauppukkeewis with the rest.
“Keep out on the plains,” said they, but he found it was too late to do so, for they had already got entangled in the thick woods. He soon smelt the hunters, who were closely following his trail, for they had left all the others to follow him. He jumped furiously, and broke down young trees in his flight, but it only served to retard his progress. He soon felt an arrow in his side. He jumped over trees in his agony, but the arrows clattered thicker and thicker about him, and at last one entered his heart. He fell to the ground and heard the whoop of triumph given by the warriors. On coming up they looked at the carcass with astonishment, and, with their hands up to their mouths, exclaimed—
“Ty-au! ty-au!”
There were about sixty in the party, who had come out on a special hunt, for one of their number had, the day before, observed Pauppukkeewis’s large tracks in the sand. They skinned him, and as his flesh got cold his jee-bi took its flight, and once more he found himself in human shape.