A little while after, Fire-drill's son and the wolf went away together. When they had gone a short distance, the wolf raised his head and looked about him.
'Some strange creature walks about here,' he exclaimed suddenly. 'Take my advice and do not try to follow him or he will have your life.'
And though he did not say so, the boy felt it was Dry-cloud that the wolf meant.
'Don't be afraid for me,' he answered; 'I only play with him. Well I know that it is impossible to kill him, but it is also impossible for him to kill me; but follow him I must, for this my father bade me.'
So they set off after Dry-cloud, and curious to say, the swift-footed wolf was forced to run with all his might, while the boy did not seem to himself to be walking faster than usual. Indeed, so rapid was their pace that if in crossing a stream the wolf got his tail wet, he was too tired to shake it himself, and he cried till the boy shook it for him. In this manner they travelled till they came to a house where an old woman lived, and this was the end of their journey for that time, as Dry-cloud lived near by also and they could watch him in peace. And while they were there Fire-drill's son saw a girl whom he thought he would like for his squaw, and he married her and they had a baby. But when the baby was born the father shook his head and said to his wife:
'This is going to be a very bad boy.'
And the fire-stick is still hanging on his mother's ceiling.
[Tlingit story.]