“Come on with me,” said the younger sister. “Have you lost your eyes? That is Metsi.”
The younger girl was ahead now some distance; the elder stopped to look at the stranger more closely.
“Which way are you going?” asked Metsi.
“Our father sent us to Sukonia the chief.”
“Oh, I am chief,” said Metsi; “you are to come with me. I will start for home very soon.”
“My sister is ahead, she is waiting. I must hurry and tell her first. I will come back to you then.”
She caught up with her sister and said: “I will go with this man; this is Sukonia, the chief. He said he was chief.”
“You must have lost your mind,” answered the younger sister; “that is Metsi. He is no chief, he is not Sukonia.”
The elder sister went with the younger, but she wanted to go back to Metsi, she wished to go with him; she liked his dress, his words pleased her, she believed him. Both went on, though the elder went against her will.
“You will see two black bearskins hanging over the sweat-house door,” said the father, when his daughters were starting. “Stop there; that is Sukonia’s house, that is the house to which you are going.”