He looked down into the valley, where he heard much noise; he saw many people playing games and shooting.
Just before this Wakara had called his youngest daughter, Paiowa, and said, “I want you to gather oak leaves for the acorn bread, and red earth to mix in it.”
She went with a basket on her back, went up to the mountain side, gathered red earth to mix with the acorn flour and make the bread light. The leaves were to be put on the top of the dough and cover the bread while baking. Titindi Maupa put his sister with her quiver in an otter-skin and carried her. She had made herself small, and seemed just like an otter; he hid her on his shoulder in this form.
Paiowa, Wakara’s youngest daughter, had put red earth in her basket and filled it with leaves. She turned around now to stoop and raise it, but could not, it was too heavy.
Titindi Maupa had slipped up and was holding the basket. She turned to see what the trouble was, and saw him right there almost touching her.
“Oh!” cried she, frightened and dropping her head; she was shamefaced before the stranger.
“Why are you afraid?” asked Titindi Maupa. “Is it because I am ugly?”
She raised the basket to her back, and rushed away. When she reached Wakaruwa, she threw down the basket outside, and ran into the house past her mother.
“Why are you so frightened? What is the matter?” asked her mother.
Not a word did she answer.