Again Hahyennoweh sat down and rested, for besides the giving of rest it made greater excitement. Taking up the race again the son ran over the path made by the monster. On and on he sped but Nia’´gwahē was nowhere within range. The path that he had made was a line that ran beyond the eye’s reach. He increased his speed but even then Nia’´gwahē was not to be discovered. Then he began to get frightened and wondered if the monster called into play his magic powers. It seemed so for though Swift Runner ran his swiftest the beast seemed to run still swifter. But he did not despair but kept on his journey, hopeful that his charms would be strong. After awhile, far in the distance, was a small speck that grew larger as Hahyennoweh ran toward it. That made him run faster and after some time he overtook the magic monster. It was nearly dark when Hahyennoweh caught up to the beast and it was none too soon for the race was almost over. He was very tired but as courageous and boastful as ever, so Hahyennoweh said, “Ho hoh, I’m up to you again! You are no runner! Who said you could run, you have been flattered. You are an ugly old woman to be flattered. You run just like a lame old woman. You have forgotten how to run. No you never knew how to run at all. Just let me show you how to run. I’ll never let you catch me as I have you. Oh you are very slow like a three-legged turtle. Now see me run!”
The young warrior ran ahead with very great speed over the plain until he saw the sun hang low and red over the hills. Then looking back, he saw a small speck. Two thoughts came into his mind. The first that he should go back and kill the beast, as the sun sank below the hills, and the second that perhaps the monster was shaming and would speed ahead should he retrace his steps. But in a moment he laughed at this second thought and was not afraid. Running back he saw that the Nia’´gwahē had fallen, unable longer to stand the strain of the contest. His panting was so great that he blew up leaves and sticks high in the air and bent the saplings about him.
The sun disappeared and the evening star shone bright in the sky. It was twilight and Hahyennoweh stood looking at the fallen big meat before him. He grasped the small blow gun from his back and fixed a small sharpened arrow. He aimed for a dark spot on the left front foot of the animal. He shot and the heaving sides no longer took in wind. The beast died where he fell.
It was getting dark and the Swift Runner was tired by his race, so he lay down beneath a high tree and went to sleep.
The Return.
When he awoke the next morning he found himself wondering what could be on the road through the swamp,—the route chosen by the Nia’´gwahē. “Surely it must be some mischief,” he thought, “or he would not have been so maddened when I ran on the ridge. I think the monster grew so slow was because he was mad. I must explore the swamp and find the evil.”
The huge beast in his mad race had beaten a good path through the swamp, which the son proceeded to follow. After a journey of ten miles he made a discovery. The footprints of a hostile people, the marks of the enemy’s moccasins, were fresh in the path. Hahyennoweh advanced with caution and as it grew dark he saw ahead of him two fires. Hidden in the underbrush were temporary shelters erected by a hostile war party. Home was but five miles distant and the son crept noiselessly past the encampment and sped toward his father’s lodge. In the moonlight he saw a deer with very large legs. He looked still closer. The deer had men’s legs and wore leather leggings! The truth flashed upon his mind. Two of the enemy were reconnoitering and were planning an attack before the sunrise!
Entering the lodge he greeted his father and gave him the beast’s tusk, the big tooth that sticks out. The father received it without a comment and continued his smoking. Then very loudly the son exclaimed, “I’ve seen a deer. I am going to outrun him. I am going now to race him!” Then in a lower tone he added, “I will return soon, father, and tell you of my adventure, but wait.”
Grasping a stone axe he ran out in search of the strange deer. At length he espied it back of the lodge, peering in at his father. Creeping up with stealth the son struck the strange animal a crushing blow between the shoulders, the hatchet sank deep and the forequarters of the deer dropped to the earth without a sound. Quickly snatching the skin he wrapped it around the hind quarters and led them struggling into the lodge.
“Well father here is the deer of which I told you! Let us skin him and see what is inside! Unwrapping the skin he revealed the captive, who, nearly smothered, was too feeble to further resist. Hahyennoweh flung him into a corner and began to ply him with questions. “How many of you are there in the swamp? Why came you to kill my people? Where is your party hidden? What chief sent you? Who is your leader? Are any other tribesmen with you?” These and other questions he asked him. Bidding the captive lead the way Hahyennoweh advanced toward the enemy’s camp and reached it about midnight. He lashed the captive to a tree and stopped his mouth. The sleeping warriors were not aware of danger and never moved as they slept. Lifting high his hatchet Hahyennoweh struck the sleepers. Forty-two times he struck and each time killed an enemy and the captive bound against the tree saw it all. “Ha’´dĕgaiiwio‘!” he exclaimed as the last sleeper was struck and then turning to the terrified man bound to the tree he said “Iīs newa, now you!” He lifted his tomahawk but paused as he was about to strike then lifting it again let it fall with a blow the shook the tree. But it had not touched the man, the blow was not aimed at him, but instead it cut the thongs and set the captive free. “Now go with all your speed and tell your tribe not to send war parties against us again for we have strong medicine and cannot be harmed.” The captive thought so.