One morning, a long time ago, a young girl named Sapana was collecting firewood when she saw an injured eagle lying on the ground. A porcupine quill had pierced its wing, and it was squawking in great pain and distress. Sapana spoke softly to the eagle and, gently holding the bird with one hand, she pulled the quill from its injured wing.
Sapana knew how strong and sharp porcupine quills were because the village females used them as needles to sew thick blankets and leather moccasins. The bird flapped around for a few moments and then took off into the bright blue sky.
Suddenly, Sapana became aware of a pair of beady eyes watching her. A porcupine was staring at her from the low branch of a cottonwood tree.
In a flash, Sapana darted forward. She needed some new needles to use during the coming winter, and porcupines were difficult to catch. But where could this one go? It could only climb further up the tree. The girl had the animal trapped.
Or so she thought. Sapana was a fast climber, but the porcupine was even faster. Up and up they went. But the tree seemed to be getting taller as Sapana climbed. Just when she thought she could see the top of the tree, there was yet more trunk to climb. What was going on? Sapana climbed through the clouds and up towards the sky.
Finally, at the top of the tree, she reached out and touched a blue, shiny surface. She pushed it, and a door opened, so Sapana climbed through. There was nowhere else to go. Sapana found herself in a field that stretched as far as she could see.