“Hoo-o! Hawanawi-i-i-i!” which is the shout of victory; and, not seeing the old woman, he cried out two or three times.
“Hoo-o! Iwolohkia-a-a!” which, as you know, means “Murder! Murder!” The old woman heard it and was frightened. She threw an old robe over her shoulders, and, grabbing up the fire-poker, started down as fast as her limping old limbs would let her, and nearly tumbled over when she heard old Etawa shout again, “Iwolohkia!”
“Ha!” said she; “I’ll teach the shameless Turkey killers, if I am an old woman;” and she shook her fire-poker in the air until she came up to where the old Turtle was waiting.
Here, just as she came near, the old Turtle pretended not to see her, but stood up on his legs, and, holding his pole with one hand, cried out, “Hoo-o! Hawanawi-i-i-i!” which was the shout of victory, as I told you before.
“What is it?” cried the old woman, as she limped along up and said: “Ah! ahi!” (“My poor old legs!”)
“Victory!” said the proud Turtle, scarcely deigning to look at her.[21]
[21] The ridiculousness of the dialogue which follows may readily be understood when it is explained that each office in the celebration of victory has to be performed by a distinct individual of specified clans according to the function. [Back]
“Who has this day renewed himself?” she inquired.
“Thy grandchildren,” answered the old Turtle.
“Have they won?” asked the old woman, as she said: “Thanks this day!”