Tulchuherris put down his quiver and bow again, left the dogs with them, and hurried back. He found every tree burned and the fire going out. He stood there and thought and thought. At last he said,—
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t find wood enough, and I can’t leave my grandmother without a fire.”
Then Winishuyat said,—
“Tulchuherris, if you don’t know how to keep a fire for your grandmother, I will tell you. Go out here anywhere. You will find wild sunflower roots, plenty of them. Put one handful of those roots on the fire, and it will not go out again.”
Tulchuherris went and dug the roots; brought two handfuls; put them on the fire so that they would burn slowly, the ends touching the fire. Then he said,—
“I am going, grandmother. Take good care of yourself.”
He went to where his quiver and bow and dogs were; then he looked back. His grandmother said nothing. She did not call to him this time. He went farther, looked back, listened, no call came. He went still farther, listened, all was silent; went farther yet, stopped, listened, heard nothing, made up his mind that all was right with his grandmother, and went on till he had gone a long distance, listened a fourth time, heard nothing. After this he went quickly till about midday, when he looked ahead and saw a great rock standing straight up in front of him, small at the top and very high. He looked and saw some one standing on the very summit. The rock was higher than a big pine-tree. A very old man was standing on the top of it.
Tulchuherris could go neither to the north nor the south, the rock was straight in his road. He looked everywhere for a passage, but could see none. He looked on the left side, all was dark; on the right, all was dark,—dark everywhere. There was light only in the road which went up the rock and over it.
The old man on the rock, when Tulchuherris came near, called out,—
“My grandson, come right up to me; there is no other road where people travel. When you are here, you will pass down on the other side easily.”