The boy did so and the bear fell to the ground with a terrific thud. “I got it,” he rejoiced. “No you didn’t,” yelled his stepmother, “You have shot our dog. You wicked boy – you shall be punished.” And she grabbed his arm, threw away his bow and pulled him far off to another snow house, and left him there. The hut was old and dirty, it was smelly and falling down; the boy wanted to leave but could not find his way back.