When Manabozho reached the spot, the tree addressed him. “Great chief,” said the tree, “will you give me my life again? Paup-puk-keewiss has killed me.”
“Yes,” replied Manabozho, who as quickly as he could gathered the scattered leaves and branches, renewed its beauty with his breath, and set off. Although Paup-puk-keewiss in the same way compelled Manabozho to lose time in repairing the hemlock, the sycamore, cedar, and many other trees, the giant did not falter, but pushing briskly forward, was fast overtaking him when Paup-puk-keewiss happened to see an elk. And asking him, for old acquaintance’ sake, to take him on his back, the elk did so, and for some time he made good headway; but still Manabozho was in sight.
He was fast gaining upon him when Paup-puk-keewiss threw himself off the elk’s back, and, striking a great sandstone rock near the path, he broke it into pieces, and scattered the grains in a thousand directions; for this was nearly his last hope of escape. Manabozho was so close upon him at this place that he had almost caught him; but the foundation of the rock cried out:
“Haye! Ne-me-sho, Paup-puk-keewiss has spoiled me. Will you not restore me to life?”
“Yes,” replied Manabozho. He re-established the rock in all its strength.
He then pushed on in pursuit, and had got so near to Paup-puk-keewiss as to put out his arm to seize him; but Paup-puk-keewiss dodged him and, as his last chance, he immediately raised such a dust and commotion by whirlwinds as made the trees break and the sand and leaves dance in the air. Again and again Manabozho stretched his arm, but he escaped him at every turn, and kept up such a tumult of dust that he dashed into a hollow tree which had been blown down, changed himself into a snake, and crept out at the roots just in time to save his life; for at that moment Manabozho, who had the power of lightning, struck it, and it was strewn about in little pieces.
Again Paup-puk-keewiss was in human shape, and Manabozho was pressing him hard. At a distance he saw a very high bluff of rocks jutting out into a lake, and he ran for the foot of the precipice, which was abrupt and elevated. As he came near, to his surprise and great relief, the Manito of the rock opened his door and told Paup-puk-keewiss to come in. The door was no sooner closed than Manabozho knocked.
“Open it!” he cried, with a loud voice. The Manito was afraid of him, but he said to Paup-puk-keewiss: “Since I have taken you as my guest, I would sooner die with you than open the door.”
“Open it!” Manabozho again cried, in a louder voice than before.
The Manito kept silent.