“The Spider! Our Grandmother Spider!” cried one of the gods to the other. “Ho! grandmother, was that you calling?” shouted they to her.
“Yea, children; where wend ye this noon-day?”
“A-warring we are going,” said they. “Look now!
“No beads for to broider your awning
Have fallen this many a morning.”
“Aha, wait ye! Whom ye seek, verily I know him well,” said the Spider-woman.
“Like a tree fallen down from the mountain
He lies by the side of the cliff-trail
And feigns to sleep there, yet is wary.
I will sew up his eyes with my down-cords.