Ô'?mâ<STRIKE>l</STRIKE> makes War on Southeast Wind

Ô'?mâl makes War on Southeast Wind.

Then Ô'?mâl called in his younger brothers. "Let us go and make war against Southeast-Wind!" It is said that he had to do it, since Ô'?mâl and his tribe were dying of hunger. The wind was always blowing. "Let us go!" said his tribe. Then they went aboard the folding canoe, and too many were in the folding canoe. Then he said to his folding canoe, "Unfold, unfold, unfold!" Then it unfolded. Then they all went aboard. "Who will be in the bow?"--"I will," said Mink. Then they paddled. They did not quite reach the point of land, when Mink fell back. His breath was at an end, on account of the stench of Southeast Wind.

Then Fur-Seal took his place. He just staid a little while. Then his breath was also at an end on account of the bad smell of the wind. Then he changed places with Seal. They paddled, and they went farther, and his breath was also at an end on account of the bad-smelling wind. Then he changed places with Halibut. He was sitting in the bow of the canoe, and they paddled, and they arrived at the house of Southeast-Wind. Halibut stepped off the canoe and lay down flat by the door of Southeast-Wind. Then the Wren jumped out of the canoe and entered the door of Southeast-Wind. He went in, and went right into the anus of Southeast-Wind, and made a fire in the belly of Southeast-Wind. Then the fire of the Wren began to burn, and he put his cape

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into the fire, and the fire obtained by drilling burned inside of Southeast-Wind.

Then he flew out of the anus of Southeast-Wind, and Southeast-Wind arose and began to cough. "I wish you were dead, slave, Golden-Eye!" Then he crawled on the floor of the house, and put his hand on the Halibut. He slipped right into the folding canoe of Ô'?mâl when he stepped on the Halibut. Then Ô'?mâl said to Deer, "Strike, strike, strike!"

Then Southeast-Wind spoke. "Don't strike me!" Thus said Southeast-Wind. "Now your world shall be sometimes calm." Thus said Southeast-Wind to Ô'?mâl. "That is too little, if it is calm after a gale," said Ô'?mâl. "Strike, strike, strike!" Then Southeast-Wind said, "Don't strike me! Now one day at a time shall be (calm) in your world." Thus said Southeast-Wind. "It is too little to have it calm one day at a time," said Ô'?mâl. "Strike, strike, strike!"--"Don't strike me!" said Southeast-Wind. "Now your world shall always be summer." Thus said Southeast-Wind. "Yî! you said too much," said Ô'?mâl. "There shall also be winter for future people," thus said Ô'?mâl, "that future people may sometimes be hungry." Thus said Ô'?mâl. Now they got it.