“And I,” boasted the old Turtle. “Come, brother, let us be going, for we have a long way to travel, and our legs are short.” So, after feasting, the two started away.

As soon as they had gone, the two boys went to their corner and lay down to rest, first filling their quivers with arrows, and laying their water-shield[20] out on the floor. They were presently quiet, and then began to snore; so their old grandmother went into another room and brought out a new bowl which she filled with water. Then she retired into the room again, and when she came out she was dressed in beautiful embroidered mantles and skirts and decorated with precious ornaments of shell and turquoise.

[20] The kia-al-lan, or water-shield, is represented in modern times by a beautiful netting of white cotton threads strung on a round hoop, with a downy plume suspended from the center. This, with the dealings of Áhaiyúta and Mátsailéma with arrows of lightning, and the simile of their father the Sun, leaves little doubt that they are, in common with mystic creations of the Aryans, representatives of natural phenomena or their agents. This is even more closely suggested by the sequel. [Back]

The noise she made awoke Áhaiyúta, who punched his younger brother, and said: “Wake up, wake up! Here’s grandmother dressed as though she were going to a dance!”

Then the younger brother raised his voice to a sharp whisper (they knew perfectly well what the old grandmother was intending to do): “What for?”

“Here!” said the old woman, turning toward the bed. “Go to sleep! What are you never-weary little beasts doing now? For shame! You pretend you are going out to war tomorrow!”

“Why are you dressed so, grandmother?” ventured the younger.

“What should I be dressed for but to make medicine for you two? Now, mind, you must not watch me. I shall make the medicine and place it in these two cane tubes, and you must shoot them into the middle of the plaza of Háwikuh as soon as you get there. That will make the people like women; for the canes will break and make the medicine fly about like mist, and whomsoever gets his skin wet by it, will become no more of a warrior than a woman. Go to sleep, I say, you pests!”

But the boys had no intention of sleeping. To be sure, they stretched themselves out and slyly laid their arms across their eyes. The old grandmother did not notice this at first. She began to wash her arms in the bowl of water. Then she rubbed them so hard that the yepna (“substance of flesh”) was rolled off in little lumps and fell into the water. This she began to mix carefully with the water, when Áhaiyúta whispered to the other: “Brother younger, just look! Old grandmother’s arms look as bright as a young girl’s. Look, look!” said he, still louder, for the other had already begun to giggle; but when the old woman turned to talk sharply at them, they turned over, the rascals, as dutifully as though they had never joked with their poor old grandmother. Soon they were indeed sleeping.

Then the grandmother proceeded to fill the canes with the fluid, and then she fastened these to the ends of two good arrows. “There!” she exclaimed, with a sigh; and after she had chanted an incantation over the canes, she laid some food near the boys and softly left the room, to sleep.