The old man is always kind, though sometimes Tsou-Tahi does not understand him.
His lessons are stories, complicated stories that draw no distinction between the world of the spirits and the world of the living.
The animals speak, as do the trees, the river, the mountains, the sky.
Yatoyenh walks ahead.
For such a very old man, he is remarkably agile and quick.
Tsou-Tahi can hear him singing, picks up his sack and trots after. When he rounds a bend in the river, there sits the old man, high up on an enormous log fallen across both banks.
Yatoyenh grins.
