In Tee-hi-ton the people heard a loud noise like a clap of thunder. This they heard as many times as there are fingers on one hand.
The young people began to jeer, but the elders made them keep silent. “It is nothing,” they said. “It is only Skanson the thunder bird singing his war song.” So they wrapped themselves in their blankets and went to sleep.
The next morning a thick fog hung over the creek so they could not see the length of their canoe in front of them. But when the mist lifted they shouted in amazement, for there among the ruins of the deserted village were four houses, painted with strange figures such as they had never seen before.
As they watched they saw young men and maidens going in and out of the houses. Then they crowded together, asking each other fearfully, “Are these the spirits of our enemies returned to punish us?”
After many days Wook-ya-koots, the keen-eyed, said, “I, Wook-ya-koots, shall go alone to Naha to speak with the strangers and learn from whence comes these lodges which glimmer in the dusk like the water when we paddle idly along in the moonlight.”
The people waited eagerly for Wook-ya-koots’ return, but the sun was high overhead before he appeared. Showing them a piece of meat he said, “Look, this is real meat. The strangers are not spirits. They gave me dried fish, the meat of the mountain sheep and berries to eat. They are lonely and invite you to a great feast tonight.”
The feast lasted until the moon hid her face and the stars began to fade from the sky. The next night Chief Yee-khoo and his braves came again and for many nights after.
Then Left-Handed said, “Are there any stick gamblers among you? Tomorrow you shall teach me how to stick gamble.”
The sun was slipping down behind the mountains when Chief Yee-khoo and his people arrived, for in those days the salmon might leap in the streams and the beavers build their dams unheeded while the Red Men gambled away their blankets and food and even their canoes.