360. "Surely all the anáye are now killed," said Estsánatlehi. "This storm must have destroyed them." But Nĭ′ltsi whispered into Nayénĕzgani's ear, "San (Old Age) still lives." The hero said then to his mother: "Where used Old Age to dwell?" His mother would not answer him, though he repeated his question four times. At last Nĭ′ltsi again whispered in his ear and said: "She lives in the mountains of Depĕ′ntsa."
361. Next morning he set out for the north, and when, after a long journey, he reached Depĕ′ntsa, he saw an old woman who came slowly toward him leaning on a staff. Her back was bent, her hair was white, and her face was deeply wrinkled. He knew this must be San. When they met he said: "Grandmother, I have come on a cruel errand. I have come to slay you." "Why would you slay me?" she said in a feeble voice, "I have never harmed any one. I hear that you have done great deeds in order that men might increase on the earth, but if you kill me there will be no increase of men; the boys will not grow up to become fathers; the worthless old men will not die; the people will stand still. It is well that people should grow old and pass away and give their places to the young. Let me live, and I shall help you to increase the people." "Grandmother, if you keep this promise I shall spare your life," said Nayénĕzgani, and he returned to his mother without a trophy.
362. When he got home Nĭ′ltsi whispered to him: "Hakáz Estsán (Cold Woman) still lives." Nayénĕzgani said to Estsánatlehi: "Mother, grandmother, where does Cold Woman dwell?" His mother would not answer him; but Nĭ′ltsi again whispered, saying: "Cold Woman lives high on the summits of Depĕ′ntsa, where the snow never melts."
363. Next day-he went again to the north and climbed high among the peaks of Depĕ′ntsa, where no trees grow and where the snow lies white through all the summer. Here he found a lean old woman, sitting on the bare snow, without clothing, food, fire, or shelter. She shivered from head to foot, her teeth chattered, and her eyes streamed water. Among the drifting snows which whirled around her, a multitude of snow-buntings were playing; these were the couriers she sent out to announce the coming of a storm. "Grandmother," he said, "a cruel man I shall be. I am going to kill you, so that men may no more suffer and die by your hand," and he raised his knife-club to smite her. "You may kill me or let me live, as you will. I care not," she said to the hero; "but if you kill me it will always be hot, the land will dry up, the springs will cease to flow, the people will perish. You will do well to let me live. It will be better for your people." He paused and thought upon her words. He lowered the hand he had raised to strike her, saying: "You speak wisely,
