The baby cried on, kept crying. The old woman went to the spot where the crying was, looked, found a baby covered with dirt, mud, and ashes. She had not carried the ashes out since her grandson had gone; she could not carry them. The Tennas were watching outside for her, watching to kill the old woman. The baby rolled around in the dirt and the ashes.
“I don’t think any one brought that baby into this house,” said the old woman to herself. “Tsawandi Kamshu said that a baby would come from the ground, would rise from his spittle. Maybe this is his spirit that has come back and is a baby again. I will call this baby Tsawandi Kamshupa.”
She took up the baby, a little boy, washed him, washed him all night, the little child was so dirty. She washed him in cold water, and he grew while she washed. She washed him till morning, but gave him no food.
The Tennas heard now the noise of two people inside. Tsuwalkai Marimi felt glad, she had the company of this little boy. All day and two nights she washed the child. He ate nothing.
“I want you to live and grow large, little boy,” said the old woman. “I want you to grow quickly; you will be a great help to me.”
The little boy did not know what was said yet. She washed the child, talked three days and three nights to him. The little boy could creep around the house now, could creep through every part of it. She washed him in the night, in the day; washed him often. He grew very fast. In ten days he was a man full grown. He could talk now as well as any one, and one day he asked the old woman,—
“What house is this? What people live here?”
She told him the whole story of her people; told how all had been killed by the Tennas in the woods, in the fields, on the water.
“I am sorry to hear what you tell,” said he.
He asked now for a bow. She gave him a fresh one. He broke it.