And the morning being bright, they went forth far into the forest to
find game. But they got very little, for they caught only one small
beaver, and Glooskap gave up his share of this to Kitpooseagunow. And
he, taking the skin, fastened it to his garter, whence it dangled like
the skin of a mouse at the knee of a tall man. But as he went on
through the woods the skin grew larger and larger and larger, till it
broke away by its own weight. Then the giant twisted a mighty sapling
into a withe, and fastened it around his waist. But it still grew apace
as he went on, till, trailing after, it tore down all the forest,
pulling away the trees, so that Kitpooseagunow left a clean, fair road
behind him. [Footnote: Many of these stories have received later
additions, which can be detected by their occurring only in single
versions of them. In the story of Kitpooseagunow (Rand's manuscript)
the giants arrive at a "large town," and go to a "store," where they
sell the skin for all the money, goods, houses, and lands which, the
merchant possesses. "And the skin was so heavy that it took the greater
part of the day to weigh it."]

And when the night came on they fished again, as they had done before;
and again it was said, but this time by the host, "The sky is red; we
shall have a cold night." So they heaped up wood more than the first
time, but now it was far colder. And soon the boy was dead, and the
grandmother also lay frozen. But when the sun rose the Master brought
them back to life, and, bidding good-by to Kitpooseagunow, went his
way. [Footnote: It is possible that there is a version of this story in
which Glooskap kills his friend with frost, and then revives him. In
one story it is a _frozen stream_, incarnate as a man, which
attempts in vain to freeze Glooskap. The extraordinary manner in which
host and guest, or even intimate friends, endeavor to _kill_ one