… After leaving Skunk, Young-Wolf had overtaken his brothers and told them that, “Skunk was carrying a poor Rice-Bird in his back-pack.”
They all came back down the valley looking for Skunk.
They heard his stick-game song and crept up on him stealthily.
They saw Skunk squirming about between his sticks playing the game by himself.
They saw Rice-Bird’s, beads and shells piled up between the rows of rotten wood and feared the worse.
Young-Wolf crept up behind Skunk, deftly placed his foot on Skunk’s tail and at the same time seized him by the nape of the neck.
Skunk did not stir.
“Fetch me a wooden club and let me club him to death,” said Young-Wolf to his brothers.
But that roused Skunk.
“Eh! What, am I an old woman that you should club me to death like that,” said Skunk, “put me down and let us meet face to face!”
“Your brave talk is only on account of your musk-sac,” said Young-Wolf, he called to his brothers, “hurry up with that club!”
His brothers handed Young-Wolf a wooden club and he clubbed poor Skunk to death.
Then the Wolf brothers took the beads and shells of Rice-Bird and went on their way.
This far and no further for White-Skunk.