These eight closed once more in fight; both chiefs fell with Jewinna’s half-brother and Kedila’s youngest son-in-law. Matsklila was so sorry for this last one that he threw away bow and arrows and fell to the ground crying bitterly. Seeing this, Chikpina picked up a rock and beat Matsklila’s brains out. Wirula on Kedila’s side killed Chikpina, and there were only two left,—Chichepa, the last of Jewinna’s men, and Wirula, the last on Kedila’s side.
“Now,” said Wirula, “we have fought enough. You are alone. Go home and tell the women that your people are all killed. I am alone. I will go home and say that all our people are dead.”
Jewinna had taken his son with him when he left Kedila’s house, and he, too, had been killed in the struggle.
Now Wirula and Chichepa started off in opposite directions; went a little way; lay down and rolled along the ground, crying and lamenting. Wirula sprang up and said,—
“I will kill that Chichepa. I will kill him surely, and there will not be one left of our enemies.”
Wirula turned and followed Chichepa slowly; drew his bow and sent an arrow after him. But Chichepa dodged; the arrow missed. Then Wirula ran away.
“I will kill that Wirula now,” said Chichepa.
He turned and followed carefully, cautiously; came up with him, and struck him fairly on the skull. Wirula dropped dead.
Chichepa turned homeward now, crying all the time. When he was near home, the women saw him stagger, then saw him fall. When he reached the top of the sweat-house, he fell in, rolled along the floor, and cried. He ate nothing that night; he was too sorry for his people. He slept a while and then woke up crying.
Early next morning he took ten otter-skins; went back to the dead people, pulled one hair from the head of each one of them, and filled the ten otter-skins with the hairs. He had the work done before sunset.