ti yəy̓duʔ ʔə tsi sxʷəyuq̓ʷ
Basket Lady’s Swing
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ʔalc̓ut̕ugʷt̕ugʷucut tiʔiɬ ʔiɬmiʔman̓. k̓ʷat̕ad tsiʔiɬ. ʔucut, “gʷəɬuʔiʔɬadəb čəd ʔə tiʔiɬ t̕əbiɬəd gʷəxʷəƛ̕ədəs. xʷiʔ kʷi gʷəɬashay̓dub ʔə tsiʔəʔ sxʷəyuq̓ʷ tiʔiɬ dsʔalc̓uʔiʔɬadəb.”
As so often in stories, it was the littlest person who thought of a solution. It was k̓ʷat̕ad, the mouse. She said, “I will nibble at the rope holding one side of the swing. I will do a little every day, so Basket Lady does not notice. One of these days, the rope will break, and she will fly out over the Sound and disappear forever.”