possible."

The two then took a sack in which to gather the plums, and started
off towards the cloud with the crimson lining. Scarcely had they
gone from Unktomi's sight when he took the babies out of their
swinging hammocks and cut off first one head and then the other.
He then took some old blankets and rolled them in the shape of a
baby body and laid one in each hammock. Then he took the heads and
put them in place in their different hammocks. The bodies he cut
up and threw into a large kettle. This he placed over a rousing
fire. Then he mixed Indian turnips and arikara squash with the
baby meat and soon had a kettle of soup. Just about the time the
soup was ready to serve the widows returned. They were tired and
hungry and not a plum had they. Unktomi, hearing the approach of
the two, hurriedly dished out the baby soup in two wooden dishes
and then seated himself near the door so that he could get out
easily. Upon the entrance of the widows, Unktomi exclaimed:
"Sisters, I had brought some meat with me and I cooked some turnips
and squash with it and made a pot of fine soup. The babies have
just fallen asleep, so don't waken them until you have
finished eating, for I know that you are nearly starved." The two
fell to at once and after they had somewhat appeased their
appetites, one of them arose and went over to see how her baby was
resting. Noting an unnatural color on her baby's face, she raised
him up only to have his head roll off from the bundle of blankets.
"'My son! my son!" she cried out. At once the other hastened to
her baby and grabbed it up, only to have the same thing happen. At
once they surmised who had done this, and caught up sticks from the
fire with which to beat Unktomi to death. He, expecting something
like this to happen, lost very little time in getting outside and