THE PINNACLES OF THUNDER MOUNTAIN
THE YOUNG SWIFT-RUNNER WHO WAS STRIPPED OF HIS CLOTHING BY THE AGED TARANTULA
A LONG, long time ago, in K’iákime, there lived a young man, the son of the priest-chief of the town. It was this young man’s custom to dress himself as for a dance and run entirely around Thunder Mountain each morning before the sun rose, before making his prayers. He was a handsome young man, and his costume was beautiful to behold.
Now, below the two broad columns of rock which stand at the southeastern end of Thunder Mountain, and which are called Ak’yapaatch-ella,—below these, in the base of the mountain, an old, old Tarantula had his den. Of a morning, as the young man in his beautiful dress sped by, the old Tarantula heard the horn-bells which were attached to his belt and saw him as he passed, this young Swift-runner, and he thought to himself: “Ah, ha! Now if I could only get his fine apparel away from him, what luck it would be for me! I will wait for him the next time.”
Early the next morning, just as the sun peeped over the lid of the world, sure enough the old Tarantula heard the horn-bells, and, thrusting his head out of his den, waited. As the young man approached, he called out to him: “Hold, my young friend; come here!”
“What for?” replied the youth. “I am in a great hurry.”
“Never mind that; come here,” said the old Tarantula.
“What is it? Why do you detain me?” rejoined the youth.
“It is for this reason,” said the old Tarantula. “Wouldn’t you like to look at yourself today?—for if you would, I can show you how.”