“No, not raccoon meat. Oh nephew, you must divine my word.”
“Oh uncle, you want turkey.”
“No not turkey. Oh nephew, you must divine my word.”
“Oh uncle, you want partridge.”
“No not partridge. Oh nephew you must divine my word.”
Again the boy sought to evade his uncle by exclaiming, “How can you expect me to guess your dream unless you give me some clue to your desire?”
Again the uncle fell to singing the charm song that conjures up flames, and suddenly they burst forth from the ground with a loud sound enveloping the poor nephew who wrestling with them, cried, “Oh uncle your desire is for the bear casings enclosed in deep fat.”
“Niio‘!” exclaimed the uncle, and the flames died down, whereupon Djoñiaik brought forth his grape stalk which he had conjured to look like the casings of a bear. Then was the uncle satisfied.
That afternoon the boy retired to the forest and sought his skeletal advisor, telling him all that had happened.
“Once more,” said the skull, “your uncle will make a demand and all the circumstances will be similar. This time he will desire a bear’s liver. Go to a log in the swamp, pluck a red tree fungus and rub it with your hands until it becomes a liver.”