Old Limālimáas was a man-eater. He lived among big rocks at one end of a long, swampy flat. At the other end of the swamp lived an old woman and her little grandson. Limālimáas had killed all the old woman’s kin, except the boy. He had strung their elbow and ankle bones on a grass rope and he wore them for a necklace. People called him Kókolaileyas, (Bone Necklace).
The grandmother was too old to dig roots, so the little boy dug them for her. One day Limālimáas saw the boy digging; he crept up and lay down near him, and when the boy’s basket was full of nice, white roots, he ate them all at a mouthful. After that, he came every day. No matter where the boy went to dig, Limālimáas followed him. If the boy ate a root while he was digging, Limālimáas struck him on the forehead with his hammer. He listened and knew when he took a root. The little boy felt badly; he wanted to carry roots to his grandmother, for he knew she was hungry. He cried all the time he was digging, cried “Nul-we! Nul-we!” (that was his name). He always went home at sundown.
One day he cried on the way home. His grandmother heard him, and said: “My grandson, you mustn’t cry so loud. A bad man lives among the big rocks. He will hear you and come where you are digging. Maybe he will kill you; he has killed your father and your mother and all your kin.”
The next morning, when Nul-we went to dig roots, Limālimáas came, and said: “Little Nul-we, I am waiting for you; I am hungry. I want you to grow fast and get big, then I will [[74]]kill you and eat you. I will put your bones in my necklace, between the bones of your father and the bones of your mother, and they will make my necklace nice and long.”
That evening, when Nul-we went home without any roots, his grandmother said: “When you were a little fellow, you brought your basket full of roots. Now it is always empty. I am hungry. I have only dry, old roots to eat.”
“I eat all the roots I dig,” said Nul-we; then he cried, he was so sorry for his grandmother. He didn’t want to tell her about Limālimáas.
The next morning, as soon as Nul-we began digging, Limālimáas came, rattling his bone necklace as he traveled. He lay down right by Nul-we, and said: “Little boy, I am tired; peel me some nice, white roots.” When he had eaten the roots, he took hold of his necklace, rattled it, and said, as he divided the bones: “These are your father’s bones; these are your mother’s bones; these are your sister’s bones; these are your brother’s bones; these are your grandfather’s bones. Now dig away, little boy; when you are big enough, your bones will be in my necklace.”
That day Nul-we dug four basketfuls, and Limālimáas ate them all. Then he said: “Little boy, you should kill me, for I have eaten your father and your mother and all your kin.” Then Nul-we thought: “Maybe I could kill this bad old man; I will get a bow and arrow and try.”
The next day, when Limālimáas had eaten all the roots, he said: “Little boy, you should kill me; I have killed all your kin. You must shoot me in the body; that is where I keep my heart.”
That night the grandmother asked: “Why don’t you bring me roots? I am hungry; you shouldn’t eat them all.”