Pitoíois told him where the basket was. He was going to jump at it and swallow all the roots at once, but she called to him: “Put down a large skin and pour the roots on to it, then take up a pinch of them with the ends of your fingers; that pinch will be so big that you can’t eat all of it.”
“There isn’t a mouthful in the whole basket,” said the old man, and he was going to swallow all of them. When his son ran toward him, he snatched a handful of the roots and ate them. That moment he was so full that roots ran out of his mouth, and on to the ground; he fell down, rolled over, and choked to death.
Pitoíois gathered up the roots that were on the ground, made [[327]]them small, put them in the basket, and covered the basket up. The son’s were glad that their father was dead, but Pitoíois felt badly; she liked her father-in-law, and didn’t want to kill him. She hit the old man two blows on the back and two on the head. The roots came out of him, only enough were left to satisfy his appetite, and he was alive again.
Tskel said: “See what you got by doing what your daughter-in-law told you not to do. Don’t do that way again. Next time no one will save you; you will die and stay dead.”
The old man didn’t listen to Tskel’s words; his mind wasn’t changed. The next morning, when the brothers were starting off to hunt deer, they said to Tskel: “Watch the old man; don’t let him torment Pitoíois. She has power and knows what she can do to him if he makes her angry.”
Old Wûlkûtska slept till afternoon; when he woke up, Pitoíois had gone for water. He looked through the cracks and watched for her to come; he meant to kill her. When Pitoíois was near the house, he raised his mortar ready to throw it.
Tskel was watching him; he crept up, snatched the mortar, and said: “Old man, what are you doing? What did your sons tell you? They will kill you if you harm your daughter-in-law. They didn’t care for their other wives,—they were common women and could do nothing; but this woman has power.”
The old man was helpless, for Tskel had his mortar. He promised not to harm Pitoíois.
When the brothers came home, Tskel didn’t tell them what Wûlkûtska had tried to do, but when Pitoíois wouldn’t eat they asked her what the trouble was, and she said: “Your father came near killing me.” The youngest son was so mad that he snatched his father’s mortar and broke it into bits.
That minute the old man turned as red as fire and every little bit of the mortar was as red as fire. He ran and gathered up the bits, held them tight up to himself; and right away the mortar was there.