Twentgowa often went into the deep woods and had a mossy rock near a river where he would lie and dream of the things he would like to do and how he would kill big game animals if he only had a chance. More and more often he repaired to his favorite spot as his wife scolded him for not bringing home game.
One evening a man came to the lodge where Twentgowa lived. He stood in the doorway and said: “I am your friend. I have visited you before but this is the first time you have seen me. I have known your name for a long time. Now you must come often and see me. I have good things in my place of abode and there is plenty to eat and much game hanging on my rafters.” Then he walked away.
Twentgowa did not know where his friend lived but thought he might find him some day. Now on the next day there was nothing to eat in the house, save a few pieces of corn bread, and the wife scolded Twentgowa saying: “Oh you who are always squatting like a duck on a nest, you shall not eat but this food shall be for our children. Begone, and if you have a friend perhaps he will receive you.” So that is what she said.
The lazy man arose from his bed and went out of the house. “I will now go and seek my friend,” he thought to himself. He went directly to the mossy spot on the rock where he customarily sought refuge and when he arrived there he found his bed very thick with moss, making it a fine spot upon which to recline. When he had lain there a short time he looked up and saw a large bark house, with very fine poles as supports and over the door a head of some animal he could not identify.
He arose and with caution walked toward the door of the house and when he stood before it he saw his friend.
“My friend,” said he, “I did not know this house was here. I never saw it before.”
“Come in,” said his friend, “This is where I live. Oh this house has here stood for many years and I am greatly surprised that you have not seen it. Now it is time to eat. Be seated here on a mat and let us eat together. The first thing we must eat is os‘howä, a pudding.”
Thereupon the friend went to an upper shelf and took down a bowl into which he placed a loathly mess of substance that had the odor of a fish a long time dead. “Djiskwengo,” exclaimed the friend, and the bowl filled up with steaming pudding of most enticing odor.
So the two friends ate the food and relished it greatly. Oh, it was far better than any food that Twentgowa had ever eaten. “It is so delicious,” said he, “that I would like to take some home to my family. I would like to borrow a cooking pot to contain it.”
“My friend, there is no need of that,” said the householder. “I will give you power to do as I have done. You have only to follow my directions and you will have great power to produce delicious food for your family.”