The Little Old Woman Who Makes War was in an excellent humor, and she received Strong Desire with rejoicing. She admired his prudence and assured him his bravery should never be questioned again. Lifting up the head, which she gazed upon with vast delight, she said he need only have brought the scalp. Cutting off a lock of the hair for herself, she told him he might now return with the head, which would be evidence of an achievement that would cause his own people to respect him.
"On your way home," added the little old woman, "you will meet with but one difficulty. Maunkahkeesh, the Spirit of the Earth, requires an offering or sacrifice from all of her sons who perform extraordinary deeds. As you walk along in a prairie there will be an earthquake; the earth will open and divide the prairie in the middle. Take this partridge and throw it into the opening, and instantly spring over it."
With many thanks to the little old witch, who had so faithfully befriended him, Strong Desire took his leave. Doing as she said he safely passed the earthquake, and in due time arrived near his own village. Then he secretly hid his precious trophy.
On entering the village, he found that his parents had returned from the place of their spring encampment by the wood-side, and that they were in heavy sorrowing for their son, whom they supposed to be lost. One and another of the young men had presented himself to the disconsolate parents and said, "Look up, I am your son," but when they looked up, they beheld not the familiar face of Strong Desire.
Having been often deceived in this manner, when their own son in truth presented himself, they sat with their heads down and their eyes nearly blinded with weeping. It was some time before they could be prevailed upon to bestow a glance upon him. It was still longer before they could recognize him as Strong Desire, who had feared to draw water from the river at night. This youth's countenance was no longer that of a timid stripling; it was the face of a man who has seen and done great things, and who has the heart to do greater still.
When he recounted his adventures they believed him mad. The young men laughed at him—him, Strong Desire—who feared to walk to the river at night-time.
He left the lodge, and before their laughter had ceased, returned with his trophy. He held aloft the head of the Red Sorcerer, still leering, at prospect of a thousand future murders. It was easily recognized, and the young men who had scoffed at Strong Desire shrank into the corners out of sight. Strong Desire had conquered the terrible Red Head! All doubts of the truth of his adventures were dispelled.
He was greeted with joy and placed among the first warriors of the nation. He finally became a chief, and his family were ever after respected and esteemed.