Thus they encamped near the conifer, and called the place
Toha-a-muk-is after the spruce they were afraid to touch. Water they
carried from near Kak-a-mak-kook, named from the alders growing round
the stream. All through the night they heard the salmon splash to
free themselves, so many Indians say, from sea lice clinging to their
silver sides, and their hearts were happy with that refrain, which
spoke to them of great supplies of food.

Early next day, before the forest trees were gilded by the glorious
rising sun, the people heard the call of many birds, and looking
northward where the Tsomass flows, forth from the mist, which in the
early morning hangs like a veil of gauze among the trees, they saw a
flock of Sand Hill cranes appear. They flew far above their heads and
gradually ascending to the sky, vanished from their sight. These were
the maidens, so the Indians say, who left behind them all this lovely
land for regions unexplored, taking with them both clams and mussels.
This is the reason Indians give for the lack of these shell-fish now,
upon the shores of the great inland sea. The maidens also took the
Kwa-nis bulbs, but as they flew they dropt a few upon the ground,
hence the Kwa-nis bulb is still found in Tsomass land.

Wick-in-in-ish, with his sons, now made haste to paddle to the
river mouth, but lo, the house was gone, no sign of it was left,
and with it all the klootsmah tribe had fled. Then he turned to
Ha-houlth-thuk-amik and said, "This is thy land, and this thy future
home shall be; thou and thy chosen one Kla-kla-as-suks shall dwell
therein, and may thy children be many."