Long ago, on a night of full moon the chief of our tribe was killed by a warrior from an enemy tribe. This angered the members of our tribe greatly; they were all so upset that they all were ready for vengeance. Our tribe elected a new chief and we prepared for a great war. After our warriors were assembled we set out on the fight of our lives. As we neared the village we saw that all of the enemy warriors were sound asleep in their tepees. We crept into the camp and killed all of their warriors before a warning cry could even be sounded. We returned to our village victorious, for a while anyway. The following months were extremely hard for our tribe. The enemy gods were anger by our acts of vengeance. At the very end of our celebration for ending our fights with our enemy it began to rain.
After several days of this rain our head tribesman began to worry. We had never had rain like this before. At the end of the first week of rain our rivers were starting to fill and overflow. We prayed to our god to end the rain but to no avail. At the end of the second week the water was near our hill side village. At this point all of our crops were ruined and the hunters could not get to any game. The people began to worry. Only a few were wise enough to see that our village would be wiped out, and these people built rafts out of the homes. Finally the water flooded into our camp. Many people were killed in the great flood. There were only 12 survivors, 6 of them women from different families and 6 men from different families. The 12 people drifted towards dry ground and started a new village. The 12 founders of our new village we grateful that they survived and dedicated the new village to those lost. From that day on every 12th summer during the late part there is a massive flood. It isn't as great as the original but it destroys our harvest. So on the 11th year we spend much of our efforts on harvesting and gathering enough food to survive 2 years.