“Well, so far as the clothing is concerned, handsome,” said the young man.
“Just wait till I get a little farther off,” said the old Tarantula, and he straightened himself up and walked backward toward the door of his den. Presently he stopped and stood still, and said: “How do I look now?”
“Handsomer,” said the young man.
“Just wait till I get a little farther”; and again he walked backward, which is a way Tarantulas have, and stood up straight, and said: “How do I look now?”
“Handsomer still,” said the young man.
“Ah, ha! Just wait till I get a little farther”;—and now he backed to the very door of his den, and stood upon the lip of the entrance, and said: “Now, then, how do I look?”
“Perfectly handsome,” said the young man.
“Ah, ha!” chuckled the old Tarantula, and he turned himself around and plunged headforemost into his hole.
“Out upon him!” cried the young man, as he stood there with his head bowed, and thinking. “Out upon the old rascal! That is the trick he serves me, is it? Fearful!” said he. “What shall I do now? I can’t go home naked, or half naked. Well, but I suppose I will have to,” said he to himself. And, bending down, he reached for the hairy gray-blue breechcloth that had been left there by the old Tarantula, and the skirt, and put them on, and took his way swiftly homeward.
When he reached home the sun was high, which never had happened before, so that the old people had been thinking, “Surely, something must have happened to our young man that he comes not as early as usual.” And when he came, they said: “What has happened that has detained you so?”
“Ha!” replied the youth; “the old Tarantula that lives under the Akʻyapaatch-ella has stripped me of my garments, and with them has run away into his hole.”
“We thought something of the kind must have happened,” said his old father.
“Send for your warrior priest,” said the other old ones. “Let us see what he thinks about this, and what shall be done.”
So the priest-chief sent for his warrior priest, and when the latter had come, he asked: “Why is it that you have sent for me?”
“True, we have sent for you,” said the father, “because Old Tarantula has stripped my son of his handsome apparel, which is sacred and precious, and we therefore hold it a great loss to him and us. How do you think we can recover what has been stolen?”
The warrior priest thought a moment, and said: “I should think we would have to dig him out, for it isn’t likely he will show himself far from his den again.”
So the warrior priest went out on the tops of the houses, and called to his people:
“I instruct ye this day, oh, my people and children! Listen to my instruction! Our child, in running to and from his prayers this very morning was intercepted by Old Tarantula, who, through his skill and cunning, succeeded in stripping our child of his handsome apparel. Therefore, I instruct ye, make haste! Gather together digging-sticks and hoes; let us all go and dig out the old villain; let the whole town turn out, women as well as men and children. My daughters, ye women of this town, take with ye basket-bowls and baskets and other things wherewith ye gather material for plaster, with which to convey away the sand and earth that is dug up by the men. Thus much I instruct ye! Make haste all!” Whereupon he descended, and, after eating, led the way toward the den of Old Tarantula.
When the people had also eaten and followed, they began to work swiftly at tunnelling into the hole of the Tarantula; and thus they worked and worked from morning till night, but did not overtake him, until at last they reached the solid rock foundations of the mountain. They had filled their baskets and basket-bowls with the sand, and cast it behind them, and others had cast it behind them, and so on until a large hillock of earth and sand had been raised, but still they had not overtaken Old Tarantula. Now, when they had reached the solid rock foundations of the mountain, they saw that the hole yawned like a cave before them, and that it was needless to follow farther. They gave up in despair, saying: “What more can we do? Let us go home. Let us give it up, since we must.” And they took their ways homeward.
Now, in the evening the old ones of the town were very thoughtful, and they gathered together and talked the matter over, and finally it was suggested by someone in answer to the query, “What can we do to recover our son’s lost garments?” “Suppose that we send for the Great Kingfisher? He is wise, crafty, swift of flight; he dashes himself from on high, even into the water, and takes him therefrom whatsoever he will, swift though it be, without fail. Suppose we send for him, our grandfather?”
“Ah, ha! that’s it,” replied others. “Send for him straightway.”
So the master warrior priest called to Young Swift-runner, and sent him to the Hill of the Great Kingfisher.
“What is it?” asked Kingfisher, when he heard someone at the entrance of his house.
“Come quickly! In council the old ones of our town await you,” said the young man.
So Great Kingfisher followed, and, arriving at the council, greeted them and asked: “What is it you would have of me?”
Said they: “Old Tarantula has stripped our young man, Swift-runner, of his beautiful garments, and
