(Dictated by MalE'd, a Kwâ'g*ûl, 1893.)
Born-to-be-the-Sun was dying quickly that night. It was almost dawn. Then he worried about what they should do when he should be dead. "Ah! I am dying for my children," he said, speaking to himself. "I want to shut my eyes in the house on account of my princes and my princesses."--"Indeed, important is the word of our chief," said those who were sitting by his side, who came to see him when he was lying sick. "What shall we do to our chief?" said those who were sitting by his side. "It would not be good if we were not afraid of these wolves that keep on howling and eat our corpses. Let us bury our chief in the ground," said those who were sitting by his side. "Don't," said Born-to-be-the-Sun, "else it will be said that the children play burying in the ground."--"How shall this be? Shall it not be a grave-box on a tree?"--"Oh, don't let me be in a box on the tree, else it will be said that the children play making nests."--"Oh, important is the word of our chief. Don't you think it will be well if we sink him in the sea? Let us put him in the sea." Then Born-to-be-the -Sun said, "Don't, else it might be said that I was a dog, and I might be laughed at by the children." How shall we do?" said those who were sitting by his side. "Just let his box be on the rocks on an island."--"That is it, that is it. Only don't tie me tightly. Don't tie me up