The old woman had a Winishuyat hidden away, and when she could not stop her grandson from going she gave him this Winishuyat, which he tied in under his hair on the top of his head. The hair was gathered over it and tied so that no one could untie it but Tulchuherris, and no one could see Winishuyat, who was like a little man, as big as a thumb. Winishuyat could talk to Tulchuherris and tell him everything, warn him of every danger. He always called him “my brother.” When Tulchuherris was ready, he said,—
“My grandmother, I must go, and you will stay here while I am gone.”
He stood up then to start, and his grandmother said,—
“My grandson, I cannot go out for wood, I am too old, I am too weak. I am not able to bring wood, and my fire will die.”
Tulchuherris put down his quiver with his bow and went to the forest. He pulled up many of the biggest trees by the roots and bound them in a bundle. He brought the bundle to the house, put the trees on the fire, and said,—
“Now you have plenty of firewood, my grandmother, and I am going.”
When he had gone a little way the old woman screamed: “My grandson, come back; the fire is dying!”
He put down his quiver and bow near his two dogs, went back, and saw that the fire was dying. The whole great bundle of trees which he had brought was burned out. Tulchuherris went then and pulled up by the roots great trees, larger than the first, and brought two bundles; put these on the fire—a great many trees. He was the strongest person in the world, and could do that.
“Now I am going!” said he. His two dogs stood waiting at the bow and the quiver. He had gone farther than the first time, he had gone about twice as far, when the old woman screamed,—
“My grandson, the fire is out!”