“Tell me quickly. The sun is high. If I cannot come up with him, he will die; if I do not find him, his enemies will kill him.” The sister did not answer.
“Tell me, you rock, which way my brother went; tell me quickly. Tell me, you poking-stick; tell me, baskets.” Nothing gave answer. “Post, tell me, tell quickly; it is too late almost, he will escape me.” She asked everything and got no answer, till at last she said, “Acorn flour, will you tell me?”
“Your brother is gone,” said the acorn flour. “He is angry because you injured Topuna, his friend; he is very angry, and does not wish you to follow him.”
“Which way did he go?”
“Under the post.”
“That is well.”
She was glad then. She made ready quickly; put on nice, new things, took her best bow and a big otter-skin quiver filled with arrows, put on leggings like a man.
“My sister, be well, take good care of yourself,” said she. “I don’t want my brother to die. He thinks that the journey is pleasant, that the journey is easy. I will go, too; I will help him.”
She pushed up the post and followed her brother; went to the spring, came back, followed him everywhere; came out at last on the trail and tracked him, followed him, toiled along over Backbone Mountain. She followed hard and fast, gained on him, kept gaining; still she was afraid that she could not come up with her brother. She turned then to Sun and called out,—
“O Sun, I wish you to be slow. Go very slowly to-day, O Sun. Let the day be long. Give me time to come up with my brother.”