Jewinna’s son, Jewinpa, came out soon after, swam, dressed, ate, and followed the two girls. They went very fast, went without stopping; but Jewinpa caught up and went with them to their father’s house.
Kedila was pleased with Jewinpa, and treated both his own daughters well. He spoke to them as if nothing had happened.
Old Jewinna in the west called all his people and said: “I want you, my people, to sweat and swim, then come here and listen to me.”
After they had done this, Jewinna said: “I am sorry that my son has gone. I must follow him to-morrow. I don’t know why he went. I do not wish him to go far from this place. Be ready, all of you, and we will go to-morrow.”
Jewinna rose before daylight, called all his people, and said: “I cannot eat. I am sorry that my son has gone.”
All took plenty of arrows and beads and otter-skins and red-headed woodpecker scalps, and started to follow the young man. As he started, Jewinna sang,—
“I-no-hó, i-no-hó no-há, i-no-hó!”
A great many followed and repeated,—
“I-no-hó, i-no-hó no-há, i-no-hó!”
They went on all day, went quickly, and at sunset they were on a smooth plain, not far from Kedila’s place. Kedila had a large, rich sweat-house, and it was full of people. The old chief had a great many sons-in-law, and a great many people to serve him.