J98 
Soon the boy came out of the grave again. He laughed softly 
when he saw the first bow and arrow, and ran to examine them. At 
first he seemed afraid to touch them with liis hands; but presently 
he pulled out the arrow and looked at it. It was very beautiful, and 
a low laugh escaped him as he strung it on the bow and began to 
play with it. Looking around, he saw the second bow and arrow, 
and ran to get them likewise. Now he noticed the third, and, drop- 
ping the first two sets, which were rather heavy for him, he ran to 
gather them also. Both the third and fourth he gathered up and 
carried inside the grave, then returned a few moments later for the 
first and second. The man waited for some time longer, but wNen 
the boy did not reappear, he returned home pondering. 
Now he made six more bows and arrows and set them out in 
the same way as before; and the boy came out of the grave and 
gathered them. Many more he made and also told his parents what 
he had seen. Twelve of the most noted medicine-men gathered in 
his father’s house while he went out and planted them about six 
feet apart in a long line that led from the grave to the village. Then 
he rejoined the people in the house and they waited. 
Tlie boy was growing bigger now. He came out of the grave, 
gathered the bows and arrows three at a time, and returned for more. 
All day he worked, carrying his burdens into the grave; and nearer 
and neai’er he approached the village, while the medicine-men 
watched him in silence through the part-open door. The last bow 
and arrow had been planted in the ground just behind the house. 
Thither the boy came, timidly, to draw it out; but just as he turned 
to go back the chief medicine-man ran swiftly and silently behind 
him, in a kind of trance, and caught him in his hands. The boy 
gave one frightenerl cry and shrivelled almost to nothing. The other 
medicine-men inside the house shook their rattles and sang their 
songs. They approached the child, one by one, and breathed on him, 
trying to restore him to life. Then they carried him inside the house, 
and sang over him for three days and three nights. On the fourth 
day the boy became truly alive. He was the man’s own son, who 
had been buried in the grave with his mother but had been granted 
the semblance of life because of the father’s constant weeping. 
The boy was now alive, but he was not happy. He would not 
eat, but cried night and day. The villagers, unable to rest, called in 
