There was a tribe, living on the plane, where each family was known by the kind of skin, handed down from father to son, which it used to cover its shelter.

In one clan there lived a pair of women and their young nephew, who had been orphaned when quite young. Each woman had her own shelter, one covered with bear skin, the other covered with lion skin.

One day, when it had been a long time since they had had a successful hunt, the women served a stew of rank meat to themselves and their close friends, an elderly couple who lived in a shelter of Hippopotamus hide. All of them got sick, and the elderly woman died. Her bereaved husband blamed the aunts and took his case to the chief, demanding compensation.

After hearing the story, the chief pronounced his judgement, "The young cub of the lion and the bear, must go live with, gather wood, sew and cook for the elder of the hippopotamus, because, as has been known since ancient times, the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the son of the squaws of the other two hides."