They did not like to take the pipe, but they could not refuse their father, they could not help themselves. They were crying.
“You must not smoke this,” whispered they; “we will give you another kind.” They took the tobacco out and put in some of the common sort. The old man did not watch sharply at first; he was thinking only to see Juiwaiyu drop dead. The girls handed back the empty pipe to their father.
Jupka, who was sitting on his nephew’s head, laughed in his own mind.
“I don’t know what sort of man this is,” thought Damhauja; “I have never seen such a person. I think he must have come to fight with me; I will try him once more.”
He filled the pipe a second time, and gave it to his daughters. They handed it to Juiwaiyu. This time they could not change the tobacco. Damhauja was watching too carefully. Jupka smoked this pipe. No smoke could hurt him. Damhauja, who hoped to see Juiwaiyu fall dead, became frightened when he saw him as well as ever.
“What am I to do?” thought he. “I give this tobacco to every man who comes for my daughters, and every man who smokes dies right away. I am afraid of my new son-in-law. I will not fight with this man. Let my other sons-in-law try him. My daughters, I want you to give nice food to your husband; give him good things to eat, take the best care of him, treat him well. My boys, I want you to bring plenty of nice food to my son-in-law.”
“I will give venison now to these sisters,” thought Jupka; and he took out a small piece of fat venison as large as a walnut. This he gave to Juiwaiyu, and told him to ask for a large basket. They brought it.
“You, venison, keep this size,” said Juiwaiyu; “be no smaller, you must not be gone;” and then he cut slices.
Damhauja carried off three great baskets of meat, then went out on the housetop and called all his sons.
“Come for venison, my sons,” said he. “There is plenty for all of you.”