The Old Eagle went to the mouth of the cave and cried with a loud voice—
“Sketupah!”
“Sketupah!” answered the hoarse voice of the Evil One from the hollow cave. He soon came and asked the Old Eagle what he wanted.
“Revenge for our sons who have been killed by the Walkullas and their friends. Will your master hear us?”
“My master must have a sacrifice; he must smell blood,” answered Sketupah. “Then we shall know if he will give revenge. Bring hither a sacrifice in the morning.”
So in the morning they brought a sacrifice, and the priest laid it on the fire while he danced around. He ceased singing and listened, but the Evil Spirit answered not. Just as he was going to commence another song the warriors saw a large ball rolling very fast up the hill to the spot where they stood. It was the height of a man. When it came up to them it began to unwind itself slowly, until at last a little strange-looking man crept out of the ball, which was made of his own hair. He was no higher than one’s shoulders. One of his feet made a strange track, such as no warrior had ever seen before. His face was as black as the shell of the butter-nut or the feathers of the raven, and his eyes as green as grass. His hair was of the colour of moss, and so long that, as the wind blew it out, it seemed the tail of a fiery star.
“What do you want of me?” he asked.
The priest answered—
“The Shawanos want revenge. They want to sacrifice the beautiful daughter of the sun, whom the Head Buffalo has brought from the camp of the Walkullas.”
“They shall have their wish,” said the Evil Spirit. “Go and fetch her.”