Now, as he sat there, all silent, there came across the plains the shouts and harangues of the Kâ'yemäshi as they called loudly to one another, telling, like children, of the people who had but then forded the wide river, and passed on to the eastward "with such great ado," they said.

   For the children of the Twins did not yet know the people of their parents, nor did their parents tell them anything, save to bid them hide in the mountains; for they wished their shame not to be made known while the hearts of their people were so sore with anguish.

   And as K'yäk'lu, the wonderful hearer, lifted his head and signed to the Duck, immediately knowing from the talk of the Kâ'yemäshi who they were and what had happened to their parents, his own brother and sister, and all the evils that had befallen his people by the sin and change-makings of these two. See! the strength of his heart wasted as he bowed himself down again in the plain, alone, blinded of sight, wearied and lamed, and now from very sadness blinded even of thought now that he learned of the woes whieh the two, his own brother and sister, had wrought upon all of the people. The Duck, long waiting, at last shook her shells and called to him. He heard not, or hearing gave no heed, but sat, like one bereft of all thinking, ;amenting the deeds of his brother and sister and the woes of his people.





©1996, Richard Hooker

For information contact: Richard Hines
Updated 6-6-1999