Kalaslákkas didn’t speak. His grandmother said: “You must say whether you will go or not. How do you feel?”
He didn’t speak. Ndukis went back and told Blaiwas that the young man wouldn’t come.
“What ails him?” asked Tusasás. “Is he proud? Does he think that he is chief? I will go and bring him here by the hair.”
Blaiwas scolded Tusasás, told him to stop talking.
Ndukis said: “What is the use in sending me all the time? Kalaslákkas won’t come and he won’t speak to me. You chiefs speak right out and talk, but he won’t. He isn’t willing to talk to everybody. You must go to him.”
The next day Blaiwas went to the young man and said: “My nephew, I have lost everything; will you come and play for me?”
“When I was small,” said Kalaslákkas, “you never looked after me or were sorry for me. You didn’t call me nephew. [[261]]It is no use for you to try and hire me now; but I will go and play.”
Blaiwas said to the grandmother: “Kalaslákkas is going to play for me to-morrow. Give him a nice feather and a shirt.”
“No,” said the young man, “my body will do as well naked as dressed. I will go as I am. But you must make an opening in the ground where the men are sitting; I won’t go in by the smoke hole.”
When the people saw Kalaslákkas, they began to talk and whisper and to ask one another where such a beautiful young man came from.