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Instantly the Moon struck him, cutting off his head. Chal-chal' was not there. He did not see it, but he knew Ka-bi-gat' cut off his son's head by striking with her pip-i'. He hastened to the spot, picked the lad up, and put his head where it belonged and the boy was alive.
This is what he saw: The Moon dipped her paddle, called "pip-i'," in the water, and rubbed it dripping over a smooth, rounded stone, an agate with ribbons of colors wound about in it. Then she stretched one long arm inside the pot as far as she could. "Tub, tub, tub," said the ribbons of colors as Ka-bi-gat' pounded up against the molten copper with the stone in her extended hand.
"Slip, slip, slip, slip," quickly answered pip-i', because the Moon was spanking back the many little rounded domes which the stone bulged forth on the outer surface of the vessel. Thus the huge bowl grew larger, more symmetrical, and smooth. Suddenly the Moon looked up and saw the boy intently watching the swelling pot and the rapid playing of the paddle.
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