Immediately snow began to fall in large flakes, so that the leader commanded the brothers to keep close together for fear of losing one another. Close as they walked together it was with difficulty they could see one another. The snow continued falling all that day and the next night, so that it was impossible for any one to follow their track.
They walked for several days, and Mudjikewis was always in the rear. One day, running suddenly forward, he gave the Saw-saw-quan (war-cry), and struck a tree with his war-club, breaking the tree in pieces as if it had been struck by lightning.
“Brothers,” said he, “this is the way I will serve those we are going to fight.”
The leader answered—
“Slowly, slowly, Mudjikewis. The one I lead you to is not to be thought of so lightly.”
Again Mudjikewis fell back and thought to himself—
“What, what! Who can this be he is leading us to?”
He felt fearful, and was silent. Day after day they travelled on till they came to an extensive plain, on the borders of which human bones were bleaching in the sun. The leader said—
“These are the bones of those who have gone before us. None has ever yet returned to tell the sad tale of their fate.”
Again Mudjikewis became restless, and, running forward, gave the accustomed yell. Advancing to a large rock which stood above the ground he struck it, and it fell to pieces.