Again the world rumbled, and they travelled into a country to a place
called Where-tree-boles-stand-in-the-midst-of-waters. There they
remained long, saying, "This is the Middle." They built homes there. At
times they met people who had gone before, and thus they learned war.
And many strange things happened there, as told in speeches of the
ancient talk.

Then when the earth groaned again, the Twain bade them go forth, and
they murmured. Many refused and perished miserably in their own homes,
as do rats in falling trees, or flies in forbidden food.

But the greater number went forward until they came to
Steam-mist-in-the-midst-of-waters. And they saw the smoke of men's
hearth fires and many houses scattered over the hills before them. When
they came nearer, they challenged the people rudely, demanding who they
were and why there, for in their last standing-place they had had touch
of war.

"We are the People of the Seed," said the men of the hearth-fires, "born
elder brothers of ye, and led of the gods."

"No," said our fathers, "we are led of the gods and we are the Seed
People . . . "

Long lived the people in the town on the sunrise slope of the mountains
of Kahluelawan, until the earth began to groan warningly again. Loath
were they to leave the place of the Kaka and the lake of their dead. But
the rumbling grew louder and the Twain Beloved called, and all together
they journeyed eastward, seeking once more the Place of the Middle. But