ever be so anxious as to kill one's self." This was his only
comment, and, sounding the warwhoop, he went on.

A day later he came upon two women making water jugs of willow baskets
lined with pitch, and he heard one whisper to the other, "Here comes that
bad Ta-Vwots. How shall we destroy him?"

"What were you saying?" asked the hare god.

"We just said, 'Here comes our grandson.'" (A common form of endearment.)

"Is that all? Then let me get into one of these water jugs while you
braid the neck."

He jumped in and lay quite still as they wove the neck, and they laughed
to think that it was braided so small that he could never escape,
when--puff! the jug was shattered and there was Ta-Vwots. They did not
know anything about his magic breath. They wondered how he got out.

"Easily enough," replied the hare god. "These things may hold water, but
they can't hold men and women. Try it, and see if they can." With their
consent, Ta-Vwots began weaving the osiers about them, and in a little
while he had them caged. "Now, come out," he said. But, try as they
might, not a withe could they break. "Ha, ha! You are wise women, aren't
you? Bottled in your own jugs! I am on my way to kill the Sun. In time I
shall learn how." Then, sounding his war-whoop, he struck them dead with
his magic ball and went on.

He met the Bear next day, and found him digging a hole to hide in, for he
had heard of the hare god and was afraid. "Don't be frightened, friend
Bear," said the rogue. "I'm not the sort of fellow to hide from. How
could a little chap like me hurt so many people?" And he helped the Bear
to dig his den, but when it was finished he hid behind a rock, and as the
Bear thrust his head near him he launched his magic ball at his face and
made an end of him. "I was afraid of this warrior," said Ta-Vwots, "but
he is dead, now, in his den." And sounding his war-whoop he went on.

It was on the day following that he met the Tarantula, a clever rascal,
who had a club that would deal a fatal blow to others, but would not hurt
himself. He began to groan as Ta-Vwots drew near, and cried that he had a
pain caused by an evil spirit in his head. Wouldn't Ta-Vwots thump it
out? Indeed, he would. He grasped the club and gave him the soundest kind
of a thwacking, but when the Tarantula shouted "Harder," he guessed that
it was an enchanted weapon, and changing it for his magic ball he
finished the Tarantula at a blow. "That is a stroke of your o