“So I got you into my service after all,” he said to the wind, who was fanning his cheek. “But the end is not yet. You just wait. You will have to toil for me like the ox and the horse.”
“I have no objection,” said the wind. “I am what I am and what I do I must. Catch me, conquer me, use me!”
Two-Legs sat and watched them bruise corn in the mill, so that it could be used for baking.
Once, many years ago, he had hollowed out a stone and taught the women to bruise the corn in it with another stone. Since then, he had thought of letting two stones grind one against the other. He had fixed a pole and harnessed an ox to it, who went round, turning the mill. At that time, he was awfully proud of his invention.
The ox was now going round and round patiently. But, as it happened, one of Two-Legs’ sons came and asked if the grinding could not wait, for he had a use for all the cattle out in the fields. The women said that this would not do, for they were short of flour for the baking. Two-Legs let them fight it out among themselves and sat and looked at the mill until evening.
“What are you thinking about?” asked the wind, who came and blew over his forehead as usual.
“That’s it!” said Two-Legs, springing up. “I have it! I put you to the raft and you carried me and all my belongings across to this green land. Why should I not also put you to the mill?”
“Catch me if you can!” said the wind.
