The Kīxûnai lived at Southfork. One lived farther down the river on the other (east) side at Taikyûwwelsilkûtciñ.
Up the river on the west side there was nothing but dogs and their barking. The dogs made the noise when they drove the deer into the river. When the people ate, the steam of the cooking venison was like a fog spreading over the country. The one who lived down river on the other side thought, "I wish something could be done with them. Who will make medicine so they will not see deer any longer? That one will be the smartest." The one who lived below on the east side did what they do in the Indian world. 1 Then he went up across the river and put his face in at the doors of the Kīxûnai's houses. He did it because his body was bad. The next morning when they started out to hunt they had to coax the dogs out. Some of the dogs lay in the house. All day it was quiet. There was no chasing of the deer by the dogs. Until night the Kīxûnai lay there. They were so worn out they could not get up. None of the Kīxûnai could make medicine. When the sun had gone down the one who lived down river on the east side made medicine and then went up to the village on the west side. He made enough for all, both the Kīxûnai and their dogs. "Rub yourselves with my medicine," he told them, "and the dogs beside." The next morning when they went out the dogs barked wonderfully. There was nothing but barking. "I am the one they must tell about," he thought. "They must not tell about these Kīxûnai. I am the one they must tell about. They did not make this medicine."
321:1 Told at Hupa, November 1901, by Senaxon. This formula was told with xv as connected with the White Deer-skin Dance. It seems clear from its form that it is a hunting medicine. The venerable priest was questioned about its connection at another time without definitely settling the matter. If it is really a formula of the White Deer-skin Dance, then that dance, held as it is at the end of the period of cohabitation, purifies the people for the hunting season.
323:1 The Hupa formerly did not cohabitate at all during the season for hunting. It is believed that the man himself who has cohabitated will not have luck in hunting, and that his bad luck will be communicated to those with whom he mingles.