“Don’t believe him,” said Tskel; “he always talks that way, but he never tells the truth.”
Pitoíois dug roots till night, then took home a basketful and put them around the house, a handful in a place. Each handful became a big pile. At the end of two days she had a great many roots dug. When the brothers got ready to go home with her, the old man pounded dried meat for them to take; there were five large piles of it. As each brother reached down to take his load, it became so light and small that he felt that he had nothing to carry.
The old man began to move around again. “Keep still, old man,” said Tskel. “As soon as they get away, you can pound your roots.” When he wouldn’t keep still, Tskel snatched his mortar and threw it out. The old man went quickly and brought it back.
Pitoíois and the brothers traveled till midday; then the youngest brother put a small piece of dried meat in a basket. Right away the basket was full of meat. He put the basket on Pitoíois’ back and told her to go to her brothers’ house; they would be there by night.
When Pitoíois’ brothers came home and found the arrow sticking up in the ground, and saw Wus’ tracks, they knew that he had been tormenting their sister, and that the five brothers, the great arrow men, had taken her away. They felt badly; they hung out the clothes she used to wear and began to cry.
When Pitoíois was near home, she heard her brothers crying and it made her feel sad. They were glad when they saw her. When they asked where she had been, she said: “The five Wûlkûtska brothers saved me from Wus; I am the wife of the youngest brother.”
“Where are they now?” asked her brothers.
“On the mountain near here.”
“You must get ready something for them to eat.”
Pitoíois pounded roots, and her elder brother made a place for the men to sit. When they came in, he called the youngest man brother-in-law.