They were pounded down to the bones and tendons, smashed and pulverized even to the bones. Their faces were smashed because they were incompetent before their mother and their father, the Heart of Sky, named Hurricane. The earth was blacked because of this; the black rainstorm began, rain all day and rain all night. Into their houses came the animals, small and great. Their faces were crushed by things of wood and stone. Everything spoke: their waters jars, their tortilla griddles, their plates, their coking pots, their dots, their grinding stones, each and every thing crushed their faces. Their dogs and turkeys told them:

“You caused us pain, you ate us, but now it is you whom we shall eat.”

And this is the grinding stone:

“We were undone because of you.

Every day, every day,

in the dark, in the dawn, forever,

r-r-rip, r-r-rip,

r-r-rub, r-r-rub,

right in our faces, because of you.

This was the service we gave you at first, when you were still people, but today you will learn of our power. We shall pound and we shall grind your flesh,” their grinding stones told them.

And this is what their dogs says, when they spoke in their turn:

“Why is it you can’t seem to give us good? We just watch and you just keep us down, and you throw us around. You keep a stick ready when you eat, just so you can hit us. We don’t talk, so we’ve received nothing form you. How could you not have known? You did not know that we were washing away there, behind you.

“So, this very day you will taste the teeth in our mouths. We shall eat you,” their dogs told them, and their faces were crushed.