“We must hit that Jihkulu, we must kill him,” said Ahalamila’s friends.
“You need not talk like that,” said Jihkulu; “you cannot kill me. I am the best fighter in all this world. I have been in every part of it; no one has ever hit me, no one has ever hurt me.”
Jihkulu shot at Jewina, but missed. “You can’t hit me!” cried Jewina. Jihkulu shot off Jewina’s coyote skin, and then he killed him. Jewina had dreamed a long time before that if he wore coyote skin in battle he would not be killed, and that was why he wore it; but when Jihkulu shot off the skin, he killed him easily.
Now Jupka was lying in the sweat-house on Jigulmatu, and he heard the noise and shouting at Hwitalmauna. “They are fighting; I must stop the battle!” cried he. So he ran south—rushed into the middle of the fight.
“I want both sides to stop!” shouted Jupka.
The battle was at an end right there; all followed Jupka to Jigulmatu. That evening he said, “You will hunt in the north to-morrow.” All were in the sweat-house then and were listening. Jupka spoke to them some time, and then they all talked at once; it seemed as though the house would burst when they were talking.
Next day they found deer in the north, and found them in plenty. Each had one to bring back to the sweat-house. When they were coming home through thick brushwood, Popila wished to please Ahalamila’s friends, and made himself a bear to kill Howichinaipa, who fought the day before with Ahalamila and killed him.
The bear came out and threw his arms around a clump of brush in which Howichinaipa was. Howichinaipa slipped out in time and ran. The bear rushed after him, hunted him, and almost caught him at a rock near Hakamatu. Howichinaipa sprang on to the rock and said,—
“I am nearly dead; I wish this rock to open; I am too tired to run; I can go no farther.”
The rock opened, and Howichinaipa dropped in. The bear rushed up, stuck his head and fore paws after Howichinaipa; but the rock closed, and the bear was caught and killed.