“Well,” said Tsaroki, “I think that you want what is best; you want to see somebody, to see something. I think that is what you want. I think I know what you want. The best way to get what you want is to build a sweat-house.”
“That is wise talk, my grandson, I like to hear it. I have a sweat-house built—all finished.”
“Where is it?” asked Tsaroki.
“I will show it to you soon,” answered Waida Dikit.
Putting his hand behind him, he picked up a small basket, took out yellow paint with his thumb and forefinger, and drew a yellow streak from Tsaroki’s head down his back. The young man had been all green; now there was yellow on his back. Next Waida Dikit took a net woven of grass fibre, like a woman’s hair net, and put it on Tsaroki’s head. “You are ready now,” said he. Then he led him out of the house and said, pointing to the west,—
“Look! There is our sweat-house. Now, my grandson, I am going to take you to that house. The east side is painted red. When we are there, don’t go near the sweat-house on this eastern side; pass by, but not too near, a little way off. When we go in I will take the eastern half and stay in it; you will take the other half and stay on the western side, where there is green paint. That is where you are to lie, on the green side.”
They started. The old man walked ahead. When they went in, Waida Dikit took the eastern half of the house and Tsaroki the western. The young man sat down, and then Waida Dikit took a pipe which was in the sweat-house.
“My grandson,” said he, “you will find a pipe right there on your side of the house and a sack of tobacco. You may smoke if you wish.”
Tsaroki took the pipe, looked at it, liked it well. This pipe was from Wai Hola Puyuk. When he drew in the smoke and puffed out the first whiff, the whole house was filled so that nothing was seen in it. Waida Dikit put his head outside the door. There was smoke outside everywhere. He could see nothing. Then he turned back and said,—
“My grandson, you are a good man. You are a strong man. You smoke well. This will do for the first time.—If he does that again,” thought the old man, “there will be nothing seen in this world; all will be covered with smoke;” and he said, “You are a strong man; that is enough for this time.”