It sounds like a whispered plea for freedom from a rooted existence. Naridó fled the village without his canoe, so when I find him, I will show him this spirit-tree, and we will build a boat. It will take a month to chop the trunk with stone axes, and another month to hollow it with bone scrapers and smoldering leaves. We will have to start beneath a new moon, when sap runs slowly and insects will not devour the moist wood. By the time the heavy trunk is transformed into a light, floating thing, Naridó will know all the winding paths of streams in this mountaintop haven, and he will be able to fish again.