And this way I spoke to him:
‘And here is where you belong.
The Apache bow you make into the likeness of the pretty rainbow, and the arrows you make into the likeness of the white-headed grass.
And the fore shaft of the arrows you turn into water moss, and the arrows into resemblance of flat clay.
And the hair of the Apaches you make into likeness of clouds.’
And this way I spoke to him, and he told me the news of the weakness of the Apaches.
And I ran out of the house, and went westward, and found the old woman doctor, Tawquahdahmawks.
And I said to her:
‘You belong here.
And you make the bow of the Apaches into the hoop of the game the Aw-aw-bopp, the Maricopas, play, the rolling hoop that they throw sticks after.