So, early next morning, the Badger-mother rolled up some sweet corn-cakes in a blanket, for she did not have to string them now, and together the Twain started up the eastern trail. Their father, the Sun, thought to help them; therefore he lengthened the day and took two steps only at a time, until the two boys had arrived at the Springs of the Elks, almost on the borders of the Acoma country. Then, with his usual speed journeyed the Sun-father toward the Land of Night; and the two boys continued until they arrived within sight of the town of the Acomas—away out there on top of a mountain. Sure enough, there was an old hag struggling along under a load of wood, and as the two brothers came up to her they said: “Ha, grandmother, how are you these many days?”
“Happy,” replied the old woman.
“Why is it that you, a woman, and an old woman, have to carry wood?”
“Why, I am the priestess of the dance!” answered the old woman.
“Priestess of the dance?”
“Yes.”
“What dance?”
“Why, there once lived a maiden in the Town of the Eagles, and the two Gods of War shot her one day from the back of an Eagle who was trying to run away with her, and she fell; and one of my young men was the first to grasp her, therefore we dance with her bones every night.”
“Well, why do you get this wood?” they asked.
“I light the ceremonial chamber with it.”