"He can't harm
you. just watch me hit him." So saying, he picked up an arrowhead
and throwing it at "Unktomi," hit him on the side. As Unktomi
rolled over on his side, got up and stood looking at them, the
young man laughed and said: "Well, let us be going, as your
grandfather, "Unktomi," doesn't seem to like our company." They
started down the hill, when suddenly the one who had hit Unktomi
took a severe fit of coughing. He coughed and coughed, and finally
small particles of blood came from his mouth. The blood kept
coming thicker and in great gushes. Finally it came so thick and
fast that the man could not get his breath and fell upon the ground
dead.
The thoughtful young man, seeing that his friend was no more,
hurried to the village and reported what had happened. The
relatives and friends hurried to the hill, and sure enough, there
lay the thoughtless young man still and cold in death. They held
a council and sent for the chief of the Unktomi tribe. When he
heard what had happened, he told the council that he could do
nothing to his Unktomi, as it had only defended itself.
Said he: "My friends, seeing that your tribe was running short of
arrowheads, I set a great many of my tribe to work making flint
arrowheads for you. When my men are thus engaged they do not wish
to be disturbed, and your young man not only disturbed my man, but
grossly insulted him by striking him with one of the arrowheads
which he had worked so hard to make.
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