"Tulchuherris, if you don't know how to keep a fire for your
grandmother, I will tell you. Go out here anywhere. You will find wild
sunflower roots, plenty of them. Put one handful of those roots on the
fire, and it will not go out again."
Tulchuherris went and dug the roots; brought two handfuls; put them on
the fire so that they would burn slowly, the ends touching the fire.
Then he said,--
"I am going, grandmother. Take good care of yourself."
He went to where his quiver and bow and dogs were; then he looked
back. His grandmother said nothing. She did not call to him this time.
He went farther, looked back, listened, no call came. He went still
farther, listened, all was silent; went farther yet, stopped,
listened, heard nothing, made up his mind that all was right with his
grandmother, and went on till he had gone a long distance, listened a
fourth time, heard nothing. After this he went quickly till about
midday, when he looked ahead and saw a great rock standing straight up
in front of him, small at the top and very high. He looked and saw
some one standing on the very summit. The rock was higher than a big
pine-tree. A very old man was standing on the top of it.
Tulchuherris could go neither to the north nor the south, the rock was
straight in his road. He looked everywhere for a passage, but could
see none. He looked on the left side, all was dark; on the right, all
was dark,--dark everywhere. There was light only in the road which
went up the rock and over it.