“I know that,” said Snewédjas; “I saw you. You had to kill deer then, but when we have plenty to eat, it’s not right to hunt. The mountain and the earth feed us.”
Blaiwas, Kaiutois, Tskel, Kai, Kískina, Kékina, and all the people who lived in the young man’s village, were out looking for him. They went everywhere on the mountain, but they couldn’t find him. Sometimes they were walking on top of Lok Snewédjas’ house, but they didn’t see it.
One day the woman said: “I hear people crying. Your mother and sisters are mourning for you. Do you want to go and see them?”
“No,” said the young man, “my father abused me. I don’t care for him any longer. I want to stay here with you.”
Lok Snewédjas was glad. She said: “If you are going to stay here, I will tell you about my father and mother. When you walk on the mountain, you are walking on my mother. Don’t harm a tree, or a bush, or a leaf, or anything. Put [[222]]your mind on the deer you are tracking, and don’t listen to anything. When a deer leads you to the other side of the mountain, you must not touch a plant or even a leaf there. If you do, it will cut your body. On the trail you will see a little animal; then right away you will see a great many of them. If you turn your head to look at them, you will lose your mind; you will wander off on the mountain and get lost. Don’t think of those animals; follow the deer. The animals are there because the mountain doesn’t want you to go where they are. My father doesn’t know you yet, but he knows that you are here with me.”
Once, when the young man was out hunting, he heard a great noise, then he saw a deer standing on the edge of a high rock. He shot at it. The deer reached out its head. The arrow hit one of its horns and bounded back to the bow. The young man said: “Lok Snewédjas forgot to tell me about you.” He didn’t shoot again; he went home. When he got there, he said: “I didn’t kill a deer to-day. I shot at one, but the arrow came back to the bow. The deer stood in the same place, but I didn’t shoot again. I thought I knew the place well, but I never saw that kind of a deer before.”
Lok Snewédjas said: “You saw it because the mountain didn’t want you to kill deer where that deer was. The mountain always whoops and makes a great noise if a stranger goes there. If you had shot a second time, the mountain would have twisted your mouth and body. You must not go there again.”
The young man was afraid now; he said: “My mother and sisters are lonesome; that is why they cry all the time.”
“Why don’t you go and see them?” asked Lok Snewédjas.
“I don’t want to, but I’m going to stay in the house with you.” He stayed in the house a whole year. Lok Snewédjas had a little boy. As soon as he was born, she rubbed him with red paint; after that she rubbed him three times each day; in the morning, in the middle of the day and just as the sun went down. It made the child grow fast.