nd nibbled the bow strings, so that
they were worthless. Togo'av hid himself under a rock near by.

When dawn came into the sky, Tumpwinai'ro-gwinump, the Stone Shirt man,
arose and walked out of his tent, exulting in his strength and security,
and sat down upon the rock under which Togo'av was hiding; and he,
seeing his opportunity, sank his fangs into the flesh of the hero. Stone
Shirt sprang high into the air and called to his daughters that they
were betrayed and that the enemy was near; and they seized their magical
bows and their quivers filled with magical arrows and hurried to his
defense. At the same time, all the nations who were surrounding the camp
rushed down to battle. But the beautiful maidens, finding their weapons
were destroyed, waved back their enemies, as if they would parley; and
standing for a few moments over the body of their slain father, sang the
death song and danced the death dance, whirling in giddy circles about
the dead hero and wailing with despair, until they sank down and
expired.

The conquerors buried the maidens by the shores of the lake; but
Tumpwinai'rogwinump was left to rot and his bones to bleach on the
sands, as he had left Sikor'.

There is this proverb among the Utes: "Do not murmur when you suffer in
doing what the spirits have commanded, for a cup of water is provided";
and another: "What matters it who kills the game, when we can all eat of
it?"

It is long after midnight when the performance is ended. The story
itself is interesting, though I had heard it many times before; but
never, perhaps, under circumstances more effective. Stretched beneath
tall, somber pines; a great camp fire; by the fire, men, old, wrinkled,
and ugly; deformed, blear-eyed, wry-faced women; lithe, stately young
men; pretty but simpering maidens, naked children, all intently
listening, or laughing and talking by turns, their strange faces and
dusky forms lit up with the glare of the pine-knot fire. All the
circumstances conspired to make it a scene strange and weird. One old
man, the sorcerer or medicine man of the tribe, peculiarly impressed me.
Now and then he would interrupt the play for the purpose of correcting
the speakers or impressing the moral of the story with a strange dignity
and impressiveness that seemed to pass to the very border of the
ludicrous; yet at no time did it make me smile.

The story is finished, but there is yet time for an hour or two of
sleep. I take Chuar'ruumpea