As he leaped into the watery depths the chief shouted he would remain twice as long if he could be young again. Wisamek was true to his instructions; there was too much at stake; he dared not falter.
The next morning his henchmen were at the cave’s mouth to greet his reappearance. They were startled to see, climbing up the ledge with alacrity, a tall and handsome man, as young looking as themselves. There was a smile on the full, red lips, a twinkle in the clear eye of the re-made warrior as he stood among them, physically a prince among men.
The homeward journey was made with rapidity. Wisamek traveled so fast that he played out his henchmen who were half his age.
Annapalpeteu, who was seated in front of her parents’ cabin weaving a garment, noticed a youth of great physical beauty approaching, at the head of Chief Wisamek’s clansmen. She wondered who he could be, as he wore Wisamek’s headdress of feathers of the osprey or “sea eagle.” When he drew near he saluted her, and, not giving her time to answer, joyfully shouted: “Don’t you recognize me? I am your good friend Wisamek, come back to win your love, after a refreshing journey through the distant forests.”
Annapalpeteu, who was a sensible enough girl to have admired the great warrior for his prowess, even though she had never thought of him seriously as a lover, was now instantly smitten by his engaging appearance. The henchmen withdrew, leaving the couple together. They made marked progress with their romance; words of love were mentioned before they parted.
It was not long before the betrothal was announced, followed shortly by the wedding festival. At the nuptials the bridegroom’s appearance was the marvel of all present. It was hinted that he had been somewhere and renewed his youth, but as the henchmen were sworn to secrecy, how it had been done was not revealed.
The young bride seemed radiantly happy. She had every reason to be; the other Indian maids whispered from lip to lip, was she not marrying the greatest warrior and hunter of his generation, the handsomest man in a hundred tribes? Secretly envied by all of her age, possessing her stalwart prize, the fair bride started on her honeymoon, showered with acorns and good wishes.
So far as is known the wedding trip passed off blissfully. There were smiles on the bright faces of both bride and groom when they returned to their spacious new lodge-house, which the tribe had erected for them in their absence, by the banks of the sparkling Bohundy. But the course of life did not run smoothly for the pair. Though outwardly Wisamek was the handsomest and most youthful-looking of men, he was still an old man at heart. Annapalpeteu was as pleasure-loving as she was beautiful. She wanted to dance and sing and mingle with youthful company. She wanted her good time in life; her joy of living was at its height, her sense of enjoyment at its zenith.
BLACK BEAR, KILLED IN SUGAR VALLEY