Then they put him in. They brought out two sky blankets and wrapped them round him in the cradle. After that was done they launched the canoe. Five persons and the chief’s daughter went with her son. Then they started seaward. They went, they went, they went. When they found by looking about that they were midway between the Haida country and the mainland they let him down into the water. When they let him go he turned around to the right four times and became like something flat thrown down. Then they went away from him, and settled down at the place where they had been before.
[He was the one who has his place in the middle of the sea. Sometimes when sickness was about to break out they saw him. Nᴀñʟ̣da′ sʟas[22] was a reef.]
[What follows is really a second story, but it was told as part of the same. Its true name is said to be “He-who-had-Panther-woman-for-his-mother.”]
Here on the Nass lay the town of Gu′nwa. Four slaves of the owner of the town came down [the inlet] after wood. They cut the wood at a sandy beach below the town and saw young cedars. They found them for the chief’s wife. They did not believe their eyes [for joy at finding them growing so conveniently to the water]. They finished cutting the wood, loaded it on their canoe, and went up with the tide. At evening they got back. The town people brought in the wood, and he (the chief) called them in.
Then, after they had given away food for a while, he reported that they had seen young cedars. At once the chief’s wife planned to go for the bark. They went to sleep, and early in the morning she had her husband’s canoe brought out. People of the town, the chief’s daughters and young men, all went with her. At once they floated down with the current. Hu hu hu hu hu, much food,—cranberries and salmon,—[they took with them]. Then they went down.
When they landed by the young cedars all the women pulled off and dragged down [the bark] from those [trees] near by. They pulled it off and dragged it out to her. When they had taken all from those near at hand they became scattered.
She (the chief’s wife) sat with her back to the sunshine, pulling cedar bark apart. She was not in the habit of eating much. Her fingers were slender. She did not care for food.
After the sounds of the voices of women and men had died away inland a person wearing a bearskin blanket with the hair side out [[160]]came and stood near her. He held something like a pole. It had a sharp point. It was half red, half blue. He was looking at the chief’s wife, but she did not even glance toward him. He asked the chief’s wife: “How do you act when your husband calls the people [for a feast]?” “When my husband calls the people, I empty the whole dish placed in front of the one sitting next to me into my mouth.”
She had children. One of the two boys she had could not creep.
“How do you act when your husband calls the people again?” “As soon as my husband calls the people I put food into the dishes and, bending down, eat out of them.” “How do you act when your husband comes in from fishing?” “I go down, pull up my dress, swim out to him, and swallow the two spring salmon which are on top.”