“Oh, my friend, pull this splinter out; my foot is so sore I cannot talk. Pull the splinter, and I will tell you.”
Pitis took hold of the splinter and pulled, but no use, he could not draw it out. “Take it between your teeth, that is the only way,” said Klakherrit.
“My brother,” said Winishuyat, “look out for your life now; that is the way in which Klakherrit killed all your people. Do what he says; but dodge when I tell you.”
Pitis took the splinter between his teeth, and began to pull. That moment Klakherrit drew his knife, and struck; but before the knife came down, Winishuyat cried, “Dodge to the left!” Pitis dodged, and just escaped. Pitis struck now with his white-flint knife. Every blow he gave hit Klakherrit; he dodged every blow himself so that it struck only his clothes. Klakherrit was very strong, and fought fiercely. Pitis was quick, and hit all the time. The fight was a hard one. In the middle of the afternoon, Pitis was very tired, and had all his clothes cut to pieces; and Klakherrit’s head was cut off. But the head would not die; it fought on, and Pitis cut at it with his knife.
Now Winishuyat called out, “My brother, you can’t kill Klakherrit in that way; you can’t kill him with any weapon on this earth. Klakherrit’s life is in the sky; Klakherrit’s heart is up there on the right side of the place where the sun is at midday.”
Pitis looked up, and saw the heart. He stretched out his right hand then, pulled down the heart, and squeezed it; that moment Klakherrit died.
Pitis took the skin off Klakherrit’s body, put it on himself, and became just like him. He cut up his enemy’s flesh, then carried it to Klakkewilton, went into the house and said, “I have some venison to-day; I will roast it.” He roasted Klakherrit’s flesh, and gave it to his relatives. All ate except the old uncle, who grumbled, and said, “This meat doesn’t seem right to me; it has the smell of our people.” Pitis walked out, pulled off Klakherrit’s skin, threw it into the house, and was himself again; then he set fire to the house, and stopped the door. He listened; there was a great noise inside and an uproar. If any broke through, he threw them back again. At last one woman burst out, and rushed away; she escaped, and from her were born all the Klaks in the world. But she and they were a people no longer; they had become rattlesnakes. The Pitis people became quails, and Kaisusherrit’s people, gray squirrels.
The old woman, Tsosokpokaila, who reared Pitis, became a weed about a foot high, which produces many seeds; the quails are fond of these seeds.
The following summary shows in outline the main parts of a tale which could not be so easily modified as the preceding, and one which is much more important as to contents.
Before thunder and lightning were in this world, Sulapokaila (trout old woman) had a house on the river Winimem, near Mount Shasta. One evening, a maiden called Wimaloimis (grisly bear maiden) came, and asked a night’s lodging of the old woman; she gave it. Next morning, Wimaloimis wanted to eat Sulapokaila, and had almost caught her, when the old woman turned into water, and escaped. Wimaloimis went her way then, but remained in the neighborhood. She built a house, lay down near the door, and gazed at the sun for a long time; at last she grew pregnant from gazing. In time she had twins. When the first one was born, she tried to swallow it; but the infant gave out a great flash of light and frightened her. When the second child was born, she tried to eat that; but it roared terribly, and she was so frightened that she rushed out of the house, and ran off. The old woman, Sulapokaila, came and took the children home, washed them, cared for them, named the first-born Walokit (Lightning), and the second Tumukit (Thunder).