EAR K'yánawe, in the days of the ancients, there lived a poor maiden with her feeble old father and her aged mother. Her brothers had all been killed in the wars, so the family lived there helplessly.

It is true that they had a small garden, the little plantings of beans, pumpkins, squashes, melons and corn  — the maiden was able to take care of very well, and it was because of this that the family had food. Sometimes, however, they wished for meat, and as there was no man to go to the hunt and bring back the deer and rabbits for them, they had no way in which to get it.

Long before the family had had plenty, the house had been great, for there were many brave and strong young men who had lived in it; but the rooms were empty now, and only relics of the past remained.

One autumn day, near winter time, snow fell and it became very cold. The maiden had gathered a great pile of brush and fire-wood, and as she went to get an armful in the early morning, she saw the young men leaving the village in great numbers. Their feet were protected by long stockings of deerskin, the fur turned inward, and they carried stone axes and rabbit-sticks on their shoulders and stuck in their belts. And as she watched them from the roof of her house, she said to herself, — "O, how I wish that I were a man and could go out and hunt for rabbits as these young men do. Then my poor old mother and father would not lack for meat."

That night she saw the same young men coming in, some of them bringing long strings of rabbits, others short ones, but none of them empty handed. Then she decided that even though she was a maiden, she would set forth the next morning to try what luck she might find in the killing of rabbits herself.

It may seem strange that although this maiden was beautiful and young, the youths did not give her some of their rabbits. But their feelings were not friendly for one after another these young men had offered themselves for marriage, and she would not accept one of them for a husband. So they went past the poor girl on the house-top, never lifting their eyes in her direction.

That evening the maiden sat down by the fireplace, and turning toward her old parents, said, — "Dear mother and father, I see that the snow has fallen, and rabbits are easily tracked. The young men of the village who went out this morning returned carrying heavy strings of this game. In the other rooms of our house many rabbit-sticks and stone axes hang on the walls. If I take one of the rabbit-sticks I might strike down a rabbit, or, if he ran into a log, an axe would split it, and I could dig him out. I have thought during this whole day, and I have decided to go out in the early morning and hunt, as do the youths of our people."

"Naiya, my daughter," quavered the old mother; "You would surely be very cold, or you would lose your way, or grow so tired that you could not return before night. Remember that you are a maiden, and it is not right that you should go out and hunt rabbits."

"Why, certainly not," insisted the old man, rubbing his lean knees, and shaking his gray head over the days that were gone. "No, no; let us live in poverty rather than you should run such risks as these, my dear daughter."

But, say what they would, the girl was determined. And the old man said at last, — "Very well! You will not be turned from your course, therefore I will help you." He hobbled into another room, and found there some old deerskins covered with fur. He drew them out, and after moistening them, he carefully softened them, and cut out long stockings for the maiden, which he sewed up with sinew and the fiber of the yucca leaf. Then he selected for her from the old possessions of his brothers and sons, a number of rabbit-sticks and a fine heavy stone axe. Meanwhile the old mother busied herself in preparing a lunch for the girl. There were little cakes of corn-meal, spiced with pepper and wild-onions, pierced through the middle and baked in the ashes. And when she had made a long string of these by threading them like beads on a rope of yucca fiber, she laid them down on a little bench with the rabbit-sticks, the stone axe and the deerskin stockings.

Early the next morning, long before the young men were about, the maiden was up. She put on a short skirted dress, knotted a mantle over her shoulder, and threw another and larger one over her back. She drew on her deerskin stockings, and sticking the rabbit-sticks in her belt, she tied the corn-cakes to the knot of her mantle, and taking the stone axe in her hand, she went out. She walked eastward toward the plain and into the valley called the Burnt River, on account of the black, roasted-looking rocks along some parts of its sides.

Dazzlingly white the snow stretched out before her, —  and when she came near the cliffs with many little cañons in them, she saw the trails of rabbits running in and out among the rocks and bushes.

Warm and excited by her exercise, she did not heed a coming snow-storm, but ran about from one place to another, following the trails of the rabbits, sometimes up into cañons, where the forest of piñon and cedar stood. She had the good fortune to run two, three, or four rabbits into a single log. It was not hard to split these logs with her stone axe, and after killing each rabbit she raised it carefully and breathed the prayer of thanksgiving upon it. Then she tied their legs together and placed them on the string which after a while, because of her success, began to grow heavy on her shoulders.

She kept on, little heeding the snow which was falling fast, nor did she notice that it was growing darker and darker. The poor girl was so happy to think that she, a maiden, could kill game as the youths did; and from now on she could supply her old parents with fresh meat. "How strong my poor dear ones will grow now," she cried, and she ran on faster than ever.

At last the twilight came, and, looking around, she found that the snow had fallen deeply, there was no trail, and she had lost her way. She turned about and started in the direction of her home, as she supposed, walking as fast as she could through the soft, deep snow. But she went southward, and as it grew dark, she thought it best to find a shelter among the rocks, and there to spend the night, and wait the coming of the morning. "By light I shall know my way," she said.

Fortunately, among the rocks which appeared black and dim, was a cave. She soon came to it, and looking into the black hole, she saw far in the back, a little glow-light. "Ah!" thought she, "Some rabbit-hunters like myself must have passed the night here, and left the fire burning. This is greater good fortune than I could have looked for." So lowering the string of rabbits which she carried on her shoulder, she crawled in, peering well into the darkness for fear of wild beasts, then returning, she drew in the string of rabbits.

The girl found a bed of hot coals buried under the ashes in the very middle of the cave, and piled up on one side were pieces of broken wood. She gathered more wood from the cliff side, and by bringing them in in little armfuls, she finally succeeded in gathering a store that would keep the fire burning brightly all the night through. Then she drew off the snow covered stockings of deerskin and the bedraggled mantles, and hanging them up in front of the fire to dry, she sat down to rest herself. The fire burned up and glowed so that the whole cave was as light as a room at night when a dance is being celebrated.

After her clothing had dried the maiden spread a mantle on the floor of the cave by the side of the fire, and, sitting down, dressed one of her rabbits and roasted it. She untied the string of corn-cakes her mother had given her, and she feasted on the roasted meat and the cakes.

She had just finished eating and was about to lie down by the side of the fire, when she heard away off in the distance a long, low cry of distress.

"Ah!" thought the maiden, "Someone like myself is lost in the storm." She got up and went nearer to the entrance of the cavern.

"Ho-o-o-o!" sounded the cry, nearer this time. She ran out and cried as loudly as possible, — "Here! Here!"

The cry was repeated, and presently the maiden, listening first and then shouting, and listening again, heard the clatter of an enormous rattle. In terror she threw her hands into the air, and crouching down, rushed into the cavern. She tried to hide in the darkest corner, and she trembled for fear as she knew that one of the dreadful Cannibal Demons had seen the light of her fire through the cave entrance; and pretending to be a lost hunter, had cried out for help and been led to her cave.

On came the Demon, snapping the twigs under his feet and shouting in a hoarse, loud voice now, — "Ho! So you are in there, are you?" He clanged his rattle, while almost fainting from fear, closer to the rock crouched the poor girl.

The old Demon came to the entrance of the cave and brawled out, — "I am cold, I am hungry. Let me in." And he tried to get in, but the entrance was too small for his giant shoulders to pass, so he said, "Come out, and bring me something to eat."

"I have nothing for you," cried the maiden.

"Have you no rabbits?" asked the Demon.

"Yes," answered the maiden faintly.

"Then come out and bring me some of them." But the maiden was so terrified that she dared not move toward the entrance.

"Throw me a rabbit!" shouted the old Demon.

The maiden threw him one of her precious rabbits.

"Throw me another," he yelled, and so on until at last the maiden said, — "I have no more."

"Then throw me your overshoes," he cried.

And the maiden threw out the stockings of deerskin; and these, like the rabbits, he swallowed. Then he called for her moccasins, and she threw them; for her belt, and she threw it; and finally she was forced to throw him her mantles and her overdress, and she had hardly anything left.

"Come out yourself," shouted the Demon, but the girl would not, so becoming very angry, he lifted his great flint axe and began to shatter the rock about the entrance to the cave.

In the distance the two War-Gods were sitting in their home on To'yállanne, and they heard the pounding of the Demon's hammer-axe against the rocks.

They knew at once that the poor maiden, for the sake of her father and mother, had been out hunting. They knew that she had lost her way and had crawled into the little cave, and that the light of her fire had attracted the Demon. So catching up their wonderful weapons, these two War-Gods flew away into the darkness and they arrived at the cave just as the Demon was about to enter it. Each one hit him a terrific blow with his warclub, and they "ended his daylight." They flung the huge body of the giant Demon down into the depths of the cañon, and turning, called out gentle words to the maiden.

She looked out, and seeing the two handsome youths, was greatly comforted. But she crouched low with shame, for the Demon had eaten her garments, and she dared not come out from the shelter. The Gods understanding this, made from their magic, beautiful clothing, and gave them to her, and then spreading their mantles by the door of the cave, they slept there that night in order to protect the maiden.

On the morrow they wakened her, and speaking kindly, they told her that a maiden should marry, and that she must return to her people, and look with favor upon the youth that would court her that day.

Then the two Gods threw their sticks into the yucca plants nearby, and at once there appeared two great strings of rabbits. When the sun burned clear in the sky, they each took a string of the rabbits, and then, laying hold of the maiden's hands, they led her out of the cave, and down into the valley and to the very outskirts of the village. Then the two War-Gods turned to her and said, — "Forget not the words of Ahaiyúta the Elder and Mátsailéma the Younger."

The maiden bent low and breathed on their hands, and dropping the strings of rabbits which they carried, they swiftly disappeared in a whirlwind.

Thinking much of all she had learned, the maiden continued her way to the home of her father and mother. She went through the town, dressed in the beautiful robes the Gods had given her, and dragging the strings of rabbits behind her.

The young men and the old men and the women and the children beheld her in wonder. No hunter in all Cibola could compare himself with the maiden huntress.

And when she arrived at her home, her old father and mother received her joyfully. She told them of her adventure, and of the two wonderful youths, and of what they had told her.

Then, that evening, while they were sitting around their fire, the most splendid youth in the village presented himself with a bundle. The maiden, smilingly and delightedly, accepted him, and there was great happiness.