As she did this, she became aware of two men standing beside the path. Their forms were vague and shadowy, and she could hardly distinguish them. She was afraid, but they told her to come on; and since there was no other way for her to do, she went forward and tried to pass them; but when she came up to them, they seized her, and she lost consciousness, and knew nothing more until she was set down at the door of a house, and the two men were standing on either side of her. They told her to go into the house, and to go to their place at the back of the room. She went in; but the room was so dark that she could see nothing except that high up above her head there was a faint ray of light about as large as the eye of a needle. She stood looking at this place for a long time, until she heard the voice of an old woman, saying, “Why did they bring this woman here?” The young woman had not been aware that there was any one in the room, and she hung her head. Some one else said, “Do something to her!” Upon this, she heard the voice of the old woman coughing as she came toward her. She had a wand in her hand; and she led the young woman back to the door, and made passes around her with the wand. When she had done this, the place seemed suddenly to become light, and the girl saw that the room was so full of women that there was no place vacant except the one belonging to the two young men; and she ran to take refuge in that place, for she was ashamed to think that she had stood so long in the presence of all these people, gazing up at the ceiling. She staid where she was for a long time, until finally the two young men came in. They remained but a short time, and then said that they were going into the kashime. When the time came to make the fire for the evening meal, and they had started the fire, the young woman was hardly able to breathe, because of the stench in the room. [The story-teller said that it was like the odor of a stable, and that perhaps the cows came from that place; for the white people are the shades of the dead, and that is why they are coming so thick.]

The only way that she could keep from stifling was to pull her parka up over her face, and breathe underneath it.

She looked at the fire, and saw the sticks move together of their own accord as they were consumed, and she wondered at this, and jumped down and ran to the fire and poked it hard. When she did this, the fire leaped up, and some one screamed out, “You are burning me!” Some one else said, “These women from down the river have no shame about anything.” When she heard this, she looked, and saw that there was an old man sitting by the fire, with his parka pulled up, warming his back. He was the one who had been burned; and the reason that the sticks moved was, that there were a great many women, whom she could not see, getting brands from the fire. Their forms were so shadowy that she could hardly make them out. A voice asked why she did not let them get the fire, instead of beating it down. After the fire had gone down, and they had put the curtain on, they told her to go outside and look; and when she went out, she saw the largest city that she had ever seen. It was so large that she could not see from one end of it to the other. There were people walking about everywhere. She had never seen anything like it before. After a while she went in, and then those two men came out of the kashime; and when they entered the house, their mother sent them a bowl of fish, which they offered to share with her, but she could not even look at it without being nauseated, on account of the smell. So they ate without her that night, and every day afterward, because she could not touch the food that they offered her.

For a long time she went without food. Every day she walked outside; but the young women made fun of her, perhaps because they wanted the young men for themselves. She staid there for a long time, until she became thin, and so weak that she could hardly stand up or move. She could hardly breathe, either; and she kept her face in her parka nearly all the time, so as to get breath. When her life was nearly gone, she wanted water more than anything else. She thought that she was about to die. She lifted her face to take one look around, and there, beside her, she saw a bowl of water, clear and good: and beside it was a bowl of food such as she used to love, — mashed blueberries mixed with seal-oil, with the best kind of dried whitefish laid on top. She caught up the water and drank it all, and ate some of the food; and when the young men came in, she asked them if they would not eat with her. They would not look at the fresh food, however, but turned to their own filthy food and ate it. By this means her life was preserved until she was able to move around. At intervals for half a year or more she found food and water by her side. She did not know where they came from, but in reality they were her parents’ offerings made in her behalf, because they supposed her to be dead.

After a while the people with whom she was living told her that they were going to some place where she could not follow them. They said that they would come to a hill where they would have to leave her, for she could not go beyond it. The other women told her this in a jealous mood; the mother of the two young men, however, said that it was true that she would not be able to go over the hill with them, but she would tell her what to do. She was to make as many bags of clothing as she could, such as they used to make up the river, — moose-skin mittens and boots and coats, and such things, — and to keep them concealed from the two young men. So she made I know not how many bags of clothing, and at last the time came for the people to make their annual journey. The whole village started off; but this girl and the two young men and their mother were late in starting, and were left a little behind. They travelled on and on, all the people being ahead of them-, and finally they came to the foot of a range of hills, and to a precipice which barred their progress. The rest of the people had gone up this place without any difficulty whatever; but when the party in the rear came to the precipice, the girl’s feet stuck fast to the ground, and she could not move, no matter how hard she tried. So the two young men went on ahead, but the old woman staid behind with the girl. Finally the girl turned as if to go back, and then she found that her feet were loosed; so she could return if she cared to, but she could not go forward.

The old woman told her that the two men would come back four times in search of her, but that she would conceal her under the trail, and tramp it down so that they could not find her; and that after they had been back four times to find her, they would give it up; that she was then to take all the bags containing the things that she had made, and go down the river a long way, to a place where she would find a summer camp, with fish-nets and racks, and that she was to remain there until summer, catching fish. Then at the proper time, after the ice had gone, the means of getting down the river would be provided for her. She said that this was all that she could do for her. So she made a hole in the trail, and bade the young woman get into it; and she covered her with snow, and tramped it down, so that there was nothing to show that she was there. Before she concealed her, however, she had told her that if they came back and found her, they would kill her; and then it would be possible for her to go up the hill, as the rest had done, and that they would probably kill her also, for having hidden her. Then the old woman went away; and after she had gone, she heard the young men coming back in search of her. For four days they kept up the search, and after that the noise ceased; and she came out and went down the river, and found it all as the old woman had said. She remained in the fishing-camp until spring; and when the fishing began, she caught fish in abundance; but she could not use them, for they smelled like those that had been offered her before; but she caught as many as she could, and hung them up on the fish-racks until she had filled the racks with pike and whitefish, and all other kinds that are caught at that season. Then the break-up began; and one night, after the ice had stopped running, she went to bed, but was awakened by a great noise. She jumped up and ran out to see what had happened. A great log, the biggest that ever was, had grounded in front of the house. She ran in and got an axe, and made her way out on the log, which was covered with branches, and chopped out a hiding-place among the branches, weaving them in and out, so as to conceal herself more perfectly. Then she brought down the bags of clothing and stowed them away in her hiding place, and tried to push the log off, but it would not move. Then she remembered that she had not brought her work-bag down with the rest of the things, and she ran up to the house and got it; and when she stepped upon the log again, she found that she could easily push it out into the current. It floated out into the middle of the stream, and I know not how many weeks it went drifting down the river; but at length she came in sight of a village and heard the noise of dancing and singing. She kept herself out of sight; and as she drifted along, she heard some one say, “Why do they not go out to see what is on the log?” Finally two men started out to examine the log. When they came alongside, they were some distance below the village. She peeped out, and told them to say that they had found nothing, and she paid them for this service with some of the clothing that she had stowed away in the bags. So they went ashore and told nobody, while she kept on down the river; and so many villages did she pass, that her supply of clothing gave out. The summer passed.; and when fall came, she was still floating down the river. When it was nearly time for the ice to form, the log floated ashore on the right-hand side, going down. After that, she walked on down the river, on and on and on. I cannot tell you how many villages she passed. One day she saw some one coming upstream in an old, broken canoe. As he came nearer, she recognized her father. She called out to him, but he seemed not to hear her. She ran along the bank, calling at the top of her voice, but he paid no attention to her; so she gave it up, and turned back, down the river. It became cold, and the ice commenced running; but she kept on her way. Winter came, still she kept on; and when the snow became deep, she turned into a bird seldom seen in these parts, and flew down the river, still on her way home. When she came to a house, she would light on the edge of the smoke-hole and sing; and the people in the house would look up surprised, because they said that the bird named in her song the girl who had been lost the year before. She passed village after village, and at length the time came when the parka feasts are now celebrated. At last she came to her own village, and then she resumed her own form. She saw nobody outside the houses. Every one was either in the house or else in the kashime, and there was a sound of weeping everywhere. She went into her own house, and saw her mother sitting by the fire; but she paid no attention to her, even when she went to her and sat down in her lap and put her arms around her and kissed her. Yet the old woman stopped crying, and said, “What is it that makes my lap itch, and my waist and my cheeks?” The girl called again and again to her mother; but, even though she was sitting in her lap, she never heard her. Then the girl began to look around, and saw some fish eggs lying in the corner. She took them and rubbed them all over herself; and then her mother saw her, and screamed out and said that it was her own daughter, and did not know what to make of her. Then the daughter told her mother where she had been, and what she had done, and how she had seen her father making his way up the river in a broken canoe. Then her mother told her that her father had died in the fall, and that they had put half a canoe on the grave, and that it was this that he was using. Then she asked for her brothers; and her mother told her that they were all in the kashime, celebrating a parka feast on her account. Then the mother made ready to take her daughter into the kashime. She took with her a great beaver blanket; and when they came to the door of the kashime, she spread it out and covered the girl with it; and so she got her into the corner of the kashime without the knowledge of the rest that were there.

There she remained until they were just ready to give the feast, and then she danced out before them all. Every one was amazed, and no one knew what to do. Then she went to her place; and her brothers brought her all the parkas and boots that they had intended to give away, and asked her to tell where she had been and all that she had seen; and from that time, the parka feasts have been celebrated. Now, as for that log, it came from underground, or from wherever the dead people are, to this world, where we are.

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