“I can make you as many arrows as you want; don’t cry,” said his grandmother.
The next morning, when he was starting out, the boy said: “I must take a few seeds with me; I get hungry.” [[101]]
She gave him seeds, tied them up in a squirrel skin and said: “Be careful this time, don’t lose your blanket or arrows.”
When he came home in the evening, he said: “Grandmother, you must pound seeds for me to carry to-morrow. I don’t like whole seeds, and I can’t eat the roots in my arms, I bite myself.”
The next day he took pounded seeds to his little brother, fed him, petted him, and talked to him till night, then he wrapped his wildcat skin blanket twice around the child, took his old blanket, and went home.
“Where is your new blanket?” asked his grandmother.
“I found my old one. I like it better. I left the new one in the brush.”
When four days old, the little boy could walk. The fifth day the elder boy cried all the time; he was wondering who had killed his father and mother. His grandmother had never told him; she only frightened him to make him careful. His little brother could play with him now.
That night his grandmother asked: “What ails you? Why do you cry?”
“Because I have nobody to play with.”