The boy started, went some distance from the house, then stood still and looked at the rocky mountain.
“I will go to that place,” thought he; “I will go where my grandmother told me not to go. Why is she afraid? Why did she tell me not to go there? I will run and see.”
He hurried off to the mountain, went up on the rocks, looked around all the time; he remembered his grandmother’s words, and said to himself,—
“I should like to know who is here; I should like to know what frightens my grandmother.”
He went around the mountain, saw no one, set all his traps, big traps and little ones; he stayed there till near sunset. After that he ran home.
“I am afraid to eat to-night,” said he. “If I eat, perhaps the mice will not like the acorns in my traps.”
“You must not eat,” said his grandmother; “I do not wish you to eat anything. You must not touch salmon this evening. You may eat a little just at midnight. Now go and play around the house; all the mice will see you; they are out playing and will go to your traps.”
Hehku Marimi lived at that mountain. She killed all the people who went there to trap. It was she who had killed Tsanunewa’s kindred.
Next morning at daybreak Tsanunewa went to see his traps. He looked at the first, second, third, fourth; he had not caught anything. The traps were empty, just as he had left them. He found nothing till he reached the last one; he saw that there was something in that trap. He stood and looked at it; saw Hehku Marimi; she was there in the last trap. She had made herself small and gone in. She looked ugly, and Tsanunewa was frightened. He ran home as fast as he could; he was pale, and trembling.
“Why are you frightened?” asked his grandmother. “What have you caught?”