Ropes of hide were made by willing hands, and secured to a skin shaped to form a sort of bucket.
After arranging signals with the party at the mouth of the pit, the adventurous searcher allowed himself to be lowered. Once fairly launched in the Cimmerian depths his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and he saw first the buffalo, then the horse, then the young brave, quite dead. He put the body of the chief's son into the skin bucket, and gave the signal for it to be drawn up to the surface. But so great was the excitement that when his comrades had drawn up the dead man they forgot about the living one still in the pit, and hurried away.
Lost Underground
By and by the hero got tired of shouting, and wandered off into the darkness.
He had not gone very far when he met an old woman. Respectfully addressing her, he told her his story and begged her to aid his return to his own country.
"Indeed I cannot help you," she said, "but if you will go to the house of the wise man who lives round the corner you may get what you want."
Having followed the direction she had indicated with a withered finger, the youth shortly arrived at a lodge. Hungry and weary, he knocked somewhat impatiently. Receiving no answer, he knocked again, still more loudly. This time there was a movement inside the lodge, and a woman came to the door. She led him inside, where her husband sat dejectedly, not even rising to greet the visitor. Sadly the woman told him that they were mourning the death of their only son. At a word from his wife the husband looked at the youth. Eagerly he rose and embraced him.
"You are like our lost child," said he. "Come and we will make you our son."
The young brave then told him his story.