And the Sun had but just climbed above the mountains of this world of daylight when the little tube was thrown high above the banks of the great island whither they were journeying.
Then the youth and the maiden again entered the council of the Rattlesnakes, and when they saw the shining black paint on his face they asked that they too might paint their faces like his own; but they painted their cheeks awkwardly, as to this day may be seen; for all rattlesnakes are painted unevenly in the face. Then the young man presented to each the plumes he had brought, and told the elders that he would return with their maiden to the home of his father.
“Be it well, that it may be well,” they replied; and they thanked him with delight for the treasure-plumes he had bestowed upon them.
“Go ye happily all days,” said the elders. “Listen, child, and father, to our words of advice. But a little while, and thou wilt reach the bank whence thou started. Let go the shaft of lightning, and, behold, the tube thou hast journeyed with will plunge far down into the river. Then shalt thou journey with this our maiden three days. Care not to embrace her, for if thou doest this, it will not be well. Journey ye preciously, our children, and may ye be happy one with the other.”
So again they entered their hollow log, and, before entering, the maiden placed her rattlesnake skin as before on the fangs. With incredible swiftness the lightning drew them up the great surging river to the banks where the cottonwood forests grow, and when the lad pressed the shaft it landed them high among the forest trees above the steep bank. Then the youth pressed the lightning-shaft with all his might, and the log was dashed into the great river. While yet he gazed at the bounding log, behold! the fangs which the maiden had fixed into it turned to living serpents; hence today, throughout the whole great world, from the Land of Summer to the Waters of Sunset, are found the Rattlesnakes and their children.
Then the young man journeyed with the maiden southward; and on the way, with the bow and arrows the Sun-father had given him, he killed game, that they might have meat to eat. Nor did he forget the commandments of his Sun-father. At night he built a fire in a forest of piñons, and made a bower for the maiden near to it; but she could not sit there, for she feared the fire, and its light pained her eyes. Nor could she eat at first of the food he cooked for her, but only tasted a few mouthfuls of it. Then the young man made a bed for her under the trees, and told her to rest peacefully, for he would guard her through the night.
And thus they journeyed and rested until the fourth day, when at evening they entered the town under the mountains of Shíwina and were happily welcomed by the father, sister, and relatives of the young man. Blessed by the old priest-chief, the youth and the maiden dwelt with the younger sister Waíasialuhtitsa, in the high house of the upper part of the town. And the boy was as before a mighty hunter, and the maiden at last grew used to the food and ways of mortals.
After they had thus lived together for a long time, there were born of the maiden two children, twins.
Wonderful to relate, these children grew to the power of wandering, in a single day and night; and hence, when they appeared suddenly on the housetops and in the plazas, people said to one another:
“Who are these strange people, and whence came they?”—and talked much after the manner of our foolish people. And the other little children in the town beat them and quarrelled with them, as strange children are apt to do with strange children. And when the twins ran in to their mother, crying and complaining, the poor young woman was saddened; so she said to the father when he returned from hunting in the evening:
“Ah! ‘their father,’ it is not well that we remain longer here. No, alas! I must return to the country of my fathers, and take with me these little ones,” and, although the father prayed her not, she said only: “It must be,” and he was forced to consent.
Then for four days the Rattlesnake woman instructed him in the prayers and chants of her people, and she took him forth and showed him the medicines whereby the bite of her fathers might be assuaged, and how to prepare them. Again and again the young man urged her not to leave him, saying: “The way is long and filled with dangers. How, alas! will you reach it in safety?”
“Fear not,” said she; “go with me only to the shore of the great river, and my fathers will come to meet me and take me home.”
Sadly, on the last morning, the father accompanied his wife and children to the forests of the great river. There she said he must not follow; but as he embraced them he cried out:
“Ah, alas! my beautiful wife, my beloved children, flesh of my flesh, how shall I not follow ye?”
Then his wife answered: “Fear not, nor trouble thyself with sad thoughts. Whither we go thou canst not follow, for thou eatest cooked food—(thou art a mortal); but soon thy fathers and mine will come for thee, and thou wilt follow us, never to return.” Then she turned from him with the little children and was seen no more, and the young man silently returned to his home below the mountains of Shíwina.
It happened here and there in time that young men of his tribe were bitten by rattlesnakes; but the young man had only to suck
