So they propped the great bundle of meat against a tree. The elder brother called on the maiden to help him; the younger one stooped down and received it on his back. They had no sooner let go of it than it fell on the ground and completely flattened the little man out.
“Mercy! mercy! I am dying; help me out of here!” cried he.
So they managed to roll the thing off, and he got up and rubbed his back, complaining bitterly (he was only making believe), and said: “I shall have to take my little bundle.”
So he shouldered his little bundle, and the maiden took the large one; but before she started she turned to the animals and said, “Oh, my children! these many days, throwing the warm light of your favor upon me, you have rested contented to remain away from the sight of men. Now, hereafter you shall go forth whithersoever you will, that the earth may be covered with your offspring, and men may once more have of your flesh to eat and of your pelts to wear.” And away went the antelope, the deer, the mountain-sheep, the elk, and the buffalo over all the land.
Then the young Gods of War turned to the maiden and said: “Now, shall we go home?”
“Yes,” said she.
“Well, I will take the lead,” said the younger brother.
“Get behind where you belong,” said the other; “I will precede the party.” So the elder brother went first, the maiden came next, and the younger brother followed behind, with his little bag of meat.
So they went home, and the maiden placed the meat to dry in the upper rooms of the house.
While she was doing this, it was yet early in the day. The two brothers were sitting together, and whispering: “And what will she say for herself now?”