In the distance came a signal call, then came a song. It was the battle song of De‘o´niot. The warriors huddled in the corners of the lodge quaking with fear. The words of the song became distinct as De‘o´niot drew nearer.
The couple looked out and saw the man-eater sliding down the incline holding in his arms a kettle, a bowl and a spoon.
“I will stay here with my meat,” he shouted as he burst into the lodge. “You had better go on to the village. Your parents and people are there. Now leave me here and go on.”
The two gladly hurried from the house and toward morning came to a village when both found friends and relatives.
After the nephew and his wife had lived in their new home for a year, one by one the children of the settlement began mysteriously to disappear.
“My uncle surely must be in this vicinity,” reflected the nephew, “I will go on a hunt for him.”
So the nephew started out and after a time of journeying saw De‘o´niot leaning over the bank of a creek groaning in agony.
“Oh uncle!” exclaimed the nephew, “what troubles you?”
“Oh nephew,” came the groaning reply, “I have eaten many children and am very sick. My belly is hurt with pain as if by claws clutching inside.”
“Cheer up uncle, I can cure you. Only obey my instructions.”