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“ aha’ , ” itwdw ndtukdsiw. 
dkwah sipwdhidw uskinlkiskwdw ; wdpamdw ndpdwah. 
“ dkwah kiudh-udhtamatin : ‘ dha’ , ’ itwdw nikdwiy ta-wikimitdn. ” 
kiwdhtahdw ndpdwah. takuhtdwak wikiwdhk. undpdmiw. tahiu- 
klsikdw mmahuyiwa. dkwah d-kdh-kisupwdylk, kdmwdt^w uskinikiskwdw. 
“ tdnis omah d-kdmwdtisiyan f ” itdw dwHkimdkanah. 
“ kdkdts dkwah mdnah kd-takuhtdt nimkimdkan, ” itwdw uskinlkisk- 
wdw. 
“ dkwah ndpdw awa dh-undpdmiyan dtsik dnih / ” itdw ; “ klh-kis- 
kdyihtamdn, naynuya kah-vnkimitin. tanisi dsindkwahk Hsik, wdh-takusih- 
kih kiwdkimdkan ! ” itdw uskinlkiskwdwah. 
“ knspin wdh-takusihki, wdpaskwdw ; usdwipdskwdw. dyaku nimki- 
mdkan, kisiwdk pd-aydtsih. kisiwdk dkwah, kisiwdk pdy-aydw. tapa^ ; 
ka-nipahik. ” 
dkwah ndpdw, " namuya ; otah nik-dydn. ” 
kdtahtawd kdsow pdhtsdyihk ndpdw. pd-misi-kitowak. 
“ dydkd niwlkimdkan, ” i'wdw uskinikiskwdw. 
kisiwdk pd-ponlsiniyiwah ; pd-pdhtukdyiwa. 
“ waniskdh, nikusdk / ” itik ndpdw awa. 
dkwah waniskdw. 
“ ka-mdtawdndnaw, ” itik. 
“ dha’ ; kiya nlkdn. tdnisi t-dsi-mdtawdyahk f kiya nikdn, ” itdw 
awah piydsiw. 
dkw dnih kdh-kitow. misi-kimiwan ; miskwamiy pahkisin. dkwah 
awah ndpdw kwdskdmdw. asdm ay-apiw, dh-ati-misi-kimiwaniyik, misk- 
wamiy mlnah dh-pahkisihk. kdtahtawd pdydw ; pd-pdhtukdw. 
“ kiyaskuts dkwah, nikusdk ; pimutah, ” itdw uskusdkah. 
“ dha’ , ” itwdw ; “ dkwah ta-misi-kisindw ! ” itwdw ; “ mituni ta- 
wdsdskwan ; ta-wdsdskwani-kisin ! ” 
mistahi kisindw. dkwah misi-piwan ; miuni yotin, mistsikusak dh- 
pdh-pakaisitsik. mituni mh-kawatsiyiwa ukusdkah asdm. 
“ dkuyikuhk, nikusdk ! kiwinaw wlwih kiydm, ” itdw. 
dkusi Jasopwdw kdwi mitunih. 
“ kiydm kdwinaw udwih ; kisdkdtsihin, ” itwdw. 
dkusi wiy ddkd payak minah niJasihtdn dtaydhkdwin. 
Now another story. 
Once upon a time an old woman dwelt with her daughter. They were 
Cree. They suffered hunger, for the woman's daughter merely gathered 
thornberries, which she boiled, and that was all they had to eat; they 
were almost dead of hunger. 
Then at one time the young woman went off to go about gathering 
thornberries, when she saw someone who had killed game. She went 
near. That person would not even look at her. Quickly he prepared all 
the meat. Then he went away. But she, the other, picked up the clots 
of blood to eat. She went home. Then she made a broth of the poor 
thornberries, and this broth they ate, only this. 
On the next day she went out again. Again that man killed a buffalo. 
It was very cold. The young woman, as she went about, picking thorn- 
berries here and there, went to where that man was. 
