Another time this boy was walking up Wini Mem—some time before he had been at a Hlahi dance, and had seen there beautiful collars of flicker-tail feathers, and remembered them. He walked forward and said to himself,—
“I wonder where that man found those feathers. I would like to have feathers like them.”
“Pluck a bunch of grass with your mouth,” said the yapaitu, “drop it into your hand, and look at it.”
He did so, and flicker feathers were in his hands. He counted them, and found five hundred. “These are nice feathers; I will keep them,” said the boy.
“Kol Tibichi is your name,” said the yapaitu. “You will be the greatest Hlahi on Wini Mem, but you must obey us. You must listen to our words, you must do what we tell you.”
Kol Tibichi took the flicker feathers and walked westward, walked across a wide gulch till he came to a black-oak tree above Norpat Kodiheril.
“I like that oak-tree,” said Kol Tibichi. “I think that is a good place for my mother to get acorns.” He blew then, and said: “You must be very big, wide, and high, give many acorns every fall. I will call your place Olpuhlchiton” (blowing upward place, i. e. wishing place).
He went home then, and gave the flicker-tail feathers to his mother. “Now, my mother,” said he, “I wish you to keep these feathers for me.”
“Where did you find them, my son?” asked she. “You are always doing something. You did not find these yourself; the yapaitu got them. I will keep them. I am sorry for you, but I cannot stop what you are doing. You cannot stop it yourself. But I will keep these feathers for you; I will keep them safely.”
All the people talked much of Kol Tibichi now.