She was crying yet, since one brother was missing. She put down the basket in which she had carried them, hid it away, covered it carefully.
At the foot of Wahkalu lived a certain Jamuka, an old man who had a wife and two daughters.
“Bring in some wood,” said the old man one day to his daughters.
The two girls took their baskets and went to bring wood. Soon they heard some one singing,—
“I-nó i-nó, I-no mi-ná
I-nó, i-nó I-no mi-ná.”
“Listen,” said the younger sister; “some one is singing.”
They listened, heard the singing; it seemed right at the foot of Wahkalu. They went toward the place from which the sound came.
“That is a nice song,” said the younger sister. “I should like to see the one who sings so.”
They went near, saw no one yet. “Let us take the wood home,” said the elder sister, “then come back here; our father may be angry if we stay away longer.”
They took the wood home, put it down, and said nothing. Both went back to the place where the singing was and listened. At last the younger sister came to the right place, and said, “I think this is he who is singing.”