“We may as well give up hunting and go home,” said one man to another.
“Can’t you feed me smoke?” asked Yahyáhaäs.
“We have no tobacco.”
“This earth will make people trouble if they don’t carry a fire-drill and tobacco,” said Yahyáhaäs. “If you can’t feed me with smoke, you must wrestle with me.”
“We have no pipe or fire-drill to make smoke with,” said the eldest Blaiwas brother. “How can we feed you with smoke when we can’t start a fire? We are in a hurry. We didn’t come here to wrestle or play games, we came to hunt.”
“This is my way,” said Yahyáhaäs. “If people don’t feed me smoke and make me glad. I wrestle with them and throw them; then I am glad. Will you feed me smoke?”
“We can’t,” said Blaiwas. “We have no tobacco.”
“Then we will wrestle,” said Yahyáhaäs.
The men didn’t want to wrestle; they said they didn’t know how. But Yahyáhaäs kept talking about wrestling, talked till half a day was gone.
Yahyáhaäs was red from head to foot. His red cane was sharp at both ends, and on his back was a red quiver full of red, sharp-pointed arrows.