he spied his brother ahead of him.  “Ah, brother,” he cried, drawing the scalp from his blouse, “see what a beautiful present I have for you!”

But when his brother turned toward him he saw only the angry, rising waters, and rushing forward he snatched the beautiful sunshine-golden-hair and cast it back into the waters, crying, “How you dare meddle with water-babies?  Don’t you know water surely come up and get you?”

And poor Little Brother felt very sad; but the danger he had been in seemed to have endeared him once more to Hunter Brother and they stood arm-in-arm and watched the waters recede.

But there were hollows in the land and when the waters went back they held the water and so were formed that chain of lakes on the other side of Tallac and Emerald Bay, the Velmas, Kalmia, Cascade, and others.

The rest of the story is confused and full of repetitions.  The gist of it is that Little Brother was ever getting into trouble from which Hunter Brother had to rescue him, for which Little Brother was most grateful and would go off seeking for a present to give to the Big Brother who was so kind to him.

    Once he got a young bear cub.  He thought it was a dog.  He
    petted it and brought it to his brother as a hunting-dog.

Finally, after Hunter Brother had made a first-class hunter of Little Brother so that he could use his bow and arrows with great success, they went down toward the Sacramento Valley hunting deer.  They followed a fine buck over hill and dale but could not get a good shot at him.  At last worn out by running and suffering greatly, the Little Brother lay down and died.  When his brother found him, he did not attempt to bring him to life again but buried him under a pile of rocks and leaves.

    THE “WILD-GRUB” HOLE AT GARDNERVILLE

Once upon a time there was an old Indian who lived over in Hope Valley with his two grand-daughters.  He was a mean old man.  He made the girls work very hard all day long.  They had to gather wild grass seeds and acorns and grind them into flour all the time.  The old man caught plenty of fish and frogs which he took off for his own eating, but he gave the girls none.

One day he came in with a woodchuck skin and told the girls to fill it with wild wheat flour.  He did not tell them what he wanted it for.  When the skin was full he left the campoodie without a word as to where he was going.  But the bag leaked and a little stream of flour trickled out and marked his path.  He went away off to a lake where he caught plenty of fish and frogs on which he feasted until he could eat no more.  Then he lay down by his fire and was soon fast asleep.

Meanwhile in the campoodie the two girls were talking about the old man’s meanness.  “He makes us work so hard and we never have any fish to eat.  He keeps it