“How far up is he? Can you see him?”
“He is high, very high, almost as high as I can see—he is nearly at the sky.”
“He will go to it, he will go to it!” cried some.
“He is at the sky,” said Tsiwihl. “He is there, he is there! He has his hand on it—he is on the top of it—he is there!”
There was plenty of rope on the ground yet.
“Well,” said one of the old men, “he is on the sky. He never talked much, that little boy, or seemed to know much, but he has gone to a place where we could not go.”
The sun was almost half-way up in the sky. Tsiwihl lay watching, watching, looking hard. Sas had passed the middle of the sky when Tsiwihl said: “I see the boy. He is coming down, he is coming nearer and nearer.”
Soon all could see him. At last he was standing on the ground.
“Now, my cousin,” said Norwanchakus, “tell me. Let me know what you saw and what you heard. What do you think of that country up there?”
“I went to the top,” said the boy. “The country up there is good. I saw a road from east to west. I went east a little, and at the south of the road saw a tobacco tree. I sat under the tree and looked east. Far off I saw an old man coming with a pack on his back. I sat watching him. At last he came to where I was and passed without looking at me, went forward a little, stopped, put down his pack on the south side of the road, and then came toward me. I was sitting with my face to the north. He sat down at my left side, looked at me, looked at the headband, the fire-drill, and the straightener, and laughed. ‘What are you doing here?’ asked he. ‘From what place are you? How did you come up to this land, where no one ever travels but me, where I have never seen any one? You are small. How could you come here?’ ‘I am here,’ answered I, ‘because Norwanchakus sent me. He sent me because he has lost his brother, Keriha. He has looked for him all over the world, has asked every one, and no one knows about Keriha. He sent me here to ask you about Keriha. He said that you must know, for you look over the whole world, see all people, see everything.’ I put the three things down before him and said, ‘Norwanchakus told me to give you these things for your trouble in telling about Keriha.’ Sas smiled again, took up the headband, the fire-drill and straightener, held them in his hand, and said: ‘These are good—I know all that is passing in the world. I know where Keriha is. I have seen him every day since he went from his brother—I know where he is now. The Supchit woman took him one night, took him under the ground, came out on the top of Bohem Puyuk, went down again, came out, travelled by crooked roads westward, crossed the bridge made of one hair, went under the sky to the other side, to the middle house in a large village. She put Keriha in a little room in that house; he has been there ever since, he is there now. He is very weak and will die to-morrow unless some one saves him. Tell Norwanchakus to start to-night and be there in the morning if he wants to save Keriha.’”