After that, he continued on his journey, and every so often he met another naulehela, each asking for a different part of her body. One asked for an arm with which it might stir its mush. Another asked for the legs so it might use it to pound grains. And to each request, Kalei said yes and cut off a part of his grandmother.

Soon, he met a creature that looked like a little old woman. “Give me the lungs,” this one asked, “because they are soft and my teeth are all gone. I can’t eat meat anymore.” And so, he ripped out his grandmother’s lungs and gave it to the naulehela.

By the time Kalei had crossed the river to the other side, there was very little left of his grandmother. This part of the river had ponds, which were ringed with stones, and Kalei saw another naulehela sitting on one of these stones.

“Throw your grandmother into this pool,” the nualehela said, “and the water will become clear.”

Kalei approached the pool, and he saw that the water was gray like that of the river. He could not see the bottom. He threw what was left of his grandmother into the pool, and stood upon the bank, and then, to his surprise, he saw her come to the surface twice; and the third time she sank. Then at once the pool became so clear that he could see the bottom, and there were people down there, with their skins as red as fire. They crawled out of the pond, one at a time, red men, red women, red children, red people whose gender he could not tell, and they all had their household belongings, and cattle, and goats, and chicken, and many things. Everything they needed to start a village.

The last person to come out of the pond was his grandmother, or what looked like her, for she was now a red woman.

She asked him, saying, “Who am I?”

He of course recognized her, though she was red from head to toe, as if she had smeared herself with a certain type of ointment, but her hair was also red like coal in the cooking stove.

“You are my maikulu,” Kalei said.

“Come,” the grandmother said. “We will start a village.”

So Kalei walked ahead of the red people back to the place where they had set up the village, and they quickly built houses and started farms.

When Katito saw them coming and starting to construct, he grew sadder. He and his grandmother could barely start a farm, and they wary of surviving on only meat. When he saw all that was happening, he became filled with greed and jealousy. He asked Kalei what had happened, and Kalei told him everything. Then he ran back to his hut.

“Grandma,” he said.

“Yes, my son,” the grandmother replied.

“Let me kill you so that we can also get many red people to work for us. See, they will bring us cattle, and goats, and chicken, and any wealth we ask for.”

Of course, his grandmother rebelled. Still, he struck her and killed her, and, wrapping her up in bark cloth, he lifted her upon his shoulder and followed the path that his friend had taken, just the day before.

Soon, he met the friendly naulehela, which greeted him kindly.

“Where are you going with your grandmother?” the nualehela asked.

When Katito replied, he did not use the honorific ‘na’ prefix, just saying ‘kalunga’ as if the spirit were his equal. He sang the same song.

Kalunga, oh hi-hi-hi,
I am carrying her to the other side
of the river Quanja,
and the deer is crying hi-hi-hi;
Oh, the deer is crying hi-hi-hi.

“Give me the head,” said the naulehela, “to drink beer with.”

The young man laughed. “Why should I do that?” he said.

Then he went on and though he met many other creatures, he did not give them anything they asked for. Instead, he would tell them, “The other boy is insignificant, but I am far wiser.”

He also met the little old woman, and she begged for the lungs, saying, “Give them to me so I can eat them, for my teeth are all gone, and they are the only meat I can eat.”

He refused.

Then she said to him, “Though you are mean to me, let me give you advice: take your grandmother to the pool where the water is red, for that is where the red folk can be found.”

So he hurried along to the pool described, and he threw in his grandmother. He stood upon the bank waiting for her, and he stood for a long time.

A voice said to him, “A stone will not come to the surface.”

He remained there a long time, and soon some little boxes appeared, and with them a little old man who he took to be a servant. The man was not red. He was white as though he had smeared himself with flour.

“These boxes contain that which you so much desire,” the little man said. “When you reach your village, build a very fine house, and don’t forget to put in windows. Then, lock yourself in, and ensure you are all alone, before you open.”

When Katito returned to the village, he said to Kalei and his red people, “Look, I went and got something too!”

He quickly cut down a tree and built a bigger hut and put in some windows. When it was finished, he shut himself in, and began to open the boxes. But the first one contained snakes. He did not see what was in the other boxes, which he thought might contain precious presents, for the snakes bit him. He died instantly.

Kalei and his red people burned down the hut, with him and all the boxes inside, and upon the ashes they planted a forest. To this day, they call it The Small Forest, and it still grows there, a hundred and fifty years later.