“What is the matter with you? Get out of my way or I will smash you. Go on now and with the help of a kick the stump jumped backward into a clump of bushes. Placing the skin over the mound Ganondai´yeo built a little fire and began to throw on tobacco to make the smoke fragrant.
The sun was hot and the oil fairly dripped from the skin into the ground.
Ganondai´yeo became impatient. “What is the trouble with you, Tcĭs´gä?” he called. “Move lively. You are lazy. Hurry or I will leave. I cannot wait all day. Hurry or I will kick over this stump upon you.”
There was a slight movement beneath the bear’s skin.
“Hurry now,” continued the boy, “or I will pull off the skin,” and stooping down he gave it a fling. As he did so from the ground arose a company of men. All were quarreling. “You have my legs—my fingers—you have my hands—you have my feet—my ribs—my neck—where is my backbone—three ribs missing—oh someone has my whole body—didn’t have time—made us hurry—too quick—short notice!” came the mingled cries from the strange swarm.
Before Ganondai´yeo was as queer a company of men as the sun has ever seen. Some had one long leg and one short one, some were hump-backed, some small-bodied and large-limbed, some had head on backward, some had no necks, some double the wonted length, and soon each man was a sight to behold. All were angry, and fighting, disappeared into the forest, all but one. It was Tcĭs´gä. He stepped forward and took Ganondai´yeo by the hand and said,
“I am your brother, let us go home.”
Hastening to the shore the two seated themselves in the canoe and paddled back to the lodge on the opposite shore. A meal awaited them and after eating it the boys built a great fire and burned the evil lodge.
That night the three slept in the open. The next morning the brothers and their sister tramped through the forest and found the old people mourning over the loss of Ganondai´yeo.
The old folk were exuberant with joy when they found that not only was Ganondai´yeo well and alive but also their other grandchildren.