“You threw him out,” said Lĭsgaga. “I have always been kind to him; but he likes you, for he brought you a nice dress.”
That night when Gáukos lay down on his mat, he told Lĭsgaga to lie near him, then he whispered to her, and told her his elder sister’s thoughts; he knew them all. Lĭsgaga listened, but she didn’t say anything.
In the night the elder sister tied three strands of her hair to Gáukos’ hair. When he woke up and wanted to turn over he couldn’t, for his hair was tied. In the morning he said to Lĭsgaga: “To-night I am going away; I can’t stay here.”
“If you go toward the east,” said Lĭsgaga, “you will be safe, and will find people to help you.”
When the elder sister came with water, and saw Gáukos talking to the little girl, she asked: “What are you saying [[21]]to that child?” He did not reply. That night she again tied three strands of her hair to her brother’s hair.
When he woke up he said to himself: “Let her sleep till I reach the first house.” To Lĭsgaga he said: “I am going east and I must travel fast, for our sister will turn to a man-eater and follow me.”
Gáukos crossed a wide flat at a step, sprang from one mountain to another, and early in the morning came to the first house. There were many mountains between it and his sisters’ house. In that house lived two sisters, old women who were wise and had power; they could even make themselves young if they wanted to.
Gáukos said to the old women: “I am in trouble; you must save me.”
“We don’t know how to save you,” said the sisters. He begged hard, and at last they turned him into a baby, put him on a board and swaddled him.
When the girl woke up and found her brother gone, she turned to a man-eater and followed him. She tracked him across flats and over mountains. In the evening she came to the house where the old women lived, and asked: “Where is the young man who came here?”