The thing started, so far as I know, with the bastard son of a woman from that big old house in Wáhsek that stands crossways—the one they call Wáhsek-héthlqau. They call it that, of course, because it is _behind_ the others. It kind of sets back from the river. This woman lived with several different men; first with a young fellow from the house next door, and then, when she left _him_, with a strolling fellow from Smith River. When she left him for a Húpa, they all began to call her _kímolin_, “dirty.” Not one of these men had paid a cent for her, although she came of good people. She lived around in different places. Two of her children died, but a third one grew up at the Presbyterian Mission.