“Leave that place, Norwanchakus and Keriha. The world will change soon. You two must come here. Leave that place down there quickly.”
“Now, my brother,” said Keriha, “you are so slow, I don’t know where you wish to go, or what you want to do.”
“My brother,” said Norwanchakus, “I will do the best I can, and do you do the best you can. We have finished our work here. People to come will know the names that you gave to rivers, mountains, rocks, and hills. Hereafter they will call these places by the names we gave them.”
While in this world Keriha wore a duck-skin, and when they were ready to go he threw off this skin on the other side of Bohema Mem, and from it have come all the ducks on the rivers of this country.
Norwanchakus had always carried his ash stick from the fish-net. When he was going, he thrust it into the ground at Tsarau Heril. “I will leave this here,” said he, “and people to come will make pipes of it.” There is plenty of ash to this day in Tsarau Heril.
At the other side of the sky the brothers parted. Norwanchakus went up on high, and stayed there. Keriha went far away to the east, and is living there now.