Now in that same village of Dakotas lived a young married man. His father lived with him, and there were two old men who used to visit the father and smoke with him, and talk with him about many things.
One night the father of the young man said, “My friends, let us go to the death scaffold and cut off summer robes for ourselves from the tent skins.”
The young man said, “No! Do not do so. It was a pity the young man died, and as his parents had nothing else to give up for him they made the death lodge and left it there.”
“What use can he get from the tent?” asked the father. “We have no robes, so we wish to use part of the tent skins for ourselves.”
“Well, then,” said the young man. “Go as you have said and we shall see what will happen.”
The old men arose without saying a word and went to the lodge on the bluff. As soon as they were gone, the young man said, “Oh, wife, get my piece of white clay. I must scare one of those old men nearly to death.”
But the woman was unwilling, saying, “Let them alone. They have no robes. Let them cut off robes for themselves.”
But as the husband would not stop talking about it, the wife got the piece of white clay for him. He whitened his whole body and his face and hands. Then he went to the lodge in a course parallel to that taken by the old men. He went very quickly and reached there before they did.
He climbed the scaffold and lay on it, thrusting his head out through the tent skins just above the doorway.
At last the old men approached, ascending the hill, and talking together in a low tone. The young man lay still, listening to them. When they reached the lodge, they sat down.