Tskel said to Kāhkaas: “Maybe they are the tracks of your children. Where did you leave them?”
“I left them high on a tree off in the middle of the great water. My children are safe.”
Kāhkaas twisted strings for Tcûskai and he set his trap. Soon he came back bringing the five Kāhkaas boys in his trap. Kāhkaas was terribly angry and sorry; she said: “Give them to me; I will go off in the woods and roast and eat them.” (She went to bury them.) Tcûskai watched Kāhkaas. Tskel knew that trouble would come, that Kāhkaas would try and kill them. He lay down, he felt sorry.
Soon Tcûskai cried: “Get up, brother! A great elk is coming. I’ll go and kill it.”
“Don’t go in front of it,” said Tskel. “Shoot it from behind!”
Tcûskai shot three times at the elk; each time he hit its horns. Then the elk turned, caught him on her horns, and ran off to the mountains. She ran a long way, then changed into Kāhkaas and flew, with Tcûskai, to the tree on the island in the middle of the ocean.
When the elk ran off with Tcûskai, Tskel fell on the ground and cried. Then he jumped up and started off to find him. He went everywhere, stopped at every house, and asked every person he met if they had seen little Tcûskai. But nobody had seen him. At last he came to a house where a sick woman lived; she was covered with sores. When she saw Tskel, she called out, “Don’t come in here!” Tskel asked: “Have you seen my brother?” “I haven’t seen anybody, I never go anywhere, and nobody ever comes here. You can ask at the next house.”
Tskel went on till he came to a rock house right on the trail. He couldn’t see a door. He walked around the house, but couldn’t find an opening. Then he called out: “Who lives here?” The rock answered, “I live here!”—The house was a person.—Tskel asked: “Have you seen my brother? Kāhkaas has carried him off.” “I go nowhere, and nobody [[301]]comes here. I have no eyes, I can’t see. You can ask at the next house. The people there see a great deal; maybe they can tell you where your brother is.”
When Tskel got to the house, there were five persons inside and one said to another: “Make room for that man to come in and sit down.” “I can’t,” said that one. “I’m just finishing my work. You can make room for him.” “I can’t, I’m just beginning my work.”—Some of the men were braiding threads and others were twisting them.—When each man had refused to make room for Tskel, it was just sunset. He went into the house, gave the fire a kick, and sent it everywhere. It burned up all the threads and ropes the men were making.
“I feel lonesome,” said he. “I can’t listen to your words; they make me mad. I have lost my little brother; Kāhkaas has carried him off. Do you know anything about him?—Sprinkle your threads with water and roll them up; they will be whole again.—I have been everywhere in the world, but I can’t find Tcûskai. I want to ask Súbbas if he can tell me where he is. I can do everything, but I can’t find my brother. I want you to go up to Súbbas’ house and ask him if he has seen Tcûskai.”