The young man returned and reported what the Gopher had said. Thereupon the people of Shíwina and Mátsaki sent a challenge to the people of Kʻiákime for a race, saying: “We bet all that we have against what you have won from us from time to time that our runner, the Gopher, who lives beside the beginning of our racecourse, will beat you in the race, which we propose shall be the fourth day from this day. The only condition we name is, that the Gopher shall be permitted to run in his own way, on his own road, which is underground.”
Right glad were the runners of Kʻiákime to run against anyone proposed by those whom they had so often beaten. They hesitated not a moment in replying that they would run against the Gopher or any other friend of the people of Mátsaki and Shíwina, stipulating only that the Gopher, if he ran underground, should appear at the surface occasionally, that they might know where he was. So it was arranged, and the acceptance of the challenge was reported to the Gopher, and the stipulation also which was named by the runners of Kʻiákime.
That night the old Gopher went to his younger brother, old like himself, heavy-cheeked, gray-and-brown-coated, and dusty with diggings of his cellars. “My younger brother,” said the old Gopher, “the fourth day from this day I am to run a race. I shall start at the beginning of the racecourse of the people of Kʻiákime over here, which is near my home, as you know. There I shall dig two holes; one at the beginning of the racecourse, the other a little farther on. Now, here at your home, near the Place of the Scratching Bushes, do you dig a hole, down below where the racecourse passes your place, off to one side of it, and another hole a little beyond the first. The means by which I shall be distinguished as a racer will be a red plume tied to my head. Do you also procure a red plume and tie it to your head. When you hear the thundering of the feet of the racers, run out and show yourself for a minute, and rush into the other hole as fast as you can.”
“I understand what you would have of me, and right gladly will I do it. It would please me exceedingly to take down the pride of those haughty runners of Kʻiákime, or at least to help in doing it,” replied the younger brother.
The old Gopher went on to the Sitting Space of the Red Shell, where dwelt another of his younger brothers precisely like himself and the one he had already spoken to, near whose home the racecourse also ran. To him he communicated the same information, and gave the same directions. Then he went on still farther to the place called Kʻópakʻyan, where dwelt another of his younger brothers. To him also he gave the same directions; and to still another younger brother, who dwelt beneath the base of the two broad pillars of Thunder Mountain, at the last turning-point of the racecourse; and to another brother, who dwelt at the Place of the Burnt Log; and lastly to another brother quite as cunning and inventive as himself, who dwelt just below Kʻiákime where the racecourse turned toward its end. When all these arrangements had been made, the old Gopher went back and settled himself comfortably in his nest.
Bright and early on the fourth day preparations were made for the race. The runners of Kʻiákime had been fasting and training in the sacred houses, and they came forth stripped and begirt for the racing, carrying their stick. Then came the people of Mátsaki and Shíwina, who gathered on the plain, and there they waited. But they waited not long, for soon the old Gopher appeared close in their midst, popping out of the ground, and on his head was a little red plume. He placed the stick which had been prepared for him, on the ground, where he could grab it with his teeth easily, saying: “Of course, you will excuse me if I do not kick my stick, since my feet are so short that I could not do so. On the other hand,” he said to the runners, “you do not have to dig your way as I do. Therefore, we are evenly matched.”
The runners of Kʻiákime, contemptuously laughing, asked him why he did not ask for some privilege instead of talking about things which meant nothing to them.
At last the word was given. With a yell and a spring, off dashed the racers of Kʻiákime, gaily kicking their stick before them. Grabbing his stick in his teeth, into the ground plunged the old Gopher. Fearful lest their runner should be beaten, the people of Shíwina and Mátsaki ran to a neighboring hill, watching breathlessly for him to appear somewhere in the course of the race above the plain. Away over the plain in a cloud of dust swept the runners of Kʻiákime. They were already far off, when suddenly, some distance before them, out of the ground in the midst of the racecourse, popped the old Gopher, to all appearance, the red plume dusty, but waving proudly on his forehead. After looking round at the runners, into the ground he plunged again. The people of Shíwina and Mátsaki yelled their applause. The runners of Kʻiákime, astounded that the Gopher should be ahead of them, redoubled their efforts. When they came near the Place of the Red Shell, behold! somewhat muddy round the eyes and nose, out popped the old Gopher again, to all appearance. Of course it was his brother, the red plume somewhat heavy with dirt, but still waving on
