The brothers were willing at last to do this.
There was a great spring near their sweat-house, a spring as large as a lake of good size, and the brothers told the women from Wahkalu and their own two sisters to carry the bones to that water.
The Wahkalu women and the two sisters took baskets, carried bones all that day, and put them in the spring. At sunset the field was clear and all the bones were in the water.
“Now,” said the brothers to the women from Wahkalu, “you must camp far away from the spring, and not go near it till broad daylight to-morrow; and our sisters you must not rise up to-night to go out of the sweat-house.”
The two brothers closed the top of the sweat-house and did not sleep themselves.
About daylight they heard talking at the spring, then more talking, and later a great sound of voices. At broad daylight all had come out of the spring, and all the place around was full of people, crowds of people everywhere.
The two brothers looked from the top of the sweat-house, saw all Haka Kaina’s army standing there strong and well. Each man had his pack with its treasures, the plunder brought from Hwipajusi’s village; each had on his war-dress and feathers. Hwipajusi’s three daughters were there, too, as well as ever.
Haka Kaina went to the house of the Mini Aunas and talked to the brothers. He gave them otter-skins, beads, elkskins. He was grateful and very kind; called them cousins. After that he went home with his army and women. All those left at Wahkalu came out to meet the men, went far, danced, danced because all had come to life again and because the three girls were brought back.
The men put away their bows, arrows, and elkskins; all washed the paint from their faces.
“Now give us plenty to eat,” said Haka Kaina.