“I have thought hard, and now I know that it is the big things moving in the mist that you must see. Go forth and dream again in the lonesome place.”
And so Wa-choo-bay went forth with the mud on his brow, crying to the spirits that he might see the big things that moved in the mist. He slept and dreamed. Again he was in the canoe and he rode far.
Then at last the river tossed him upon the sand, and lo! there was a big, big village before him, and the lodges of it were strange and very big. Then the big village wavered like the picture of something in a pool that is disturbed, and vanished. And the sun was on the hills.
So Wa-choo-bay went back to his father and told him what he had seen, and Sky-Walker said:
“This is very strange. After many sunlights of flowing, the big muddy water comes to a place where a big new tribe has its lodges. And the faces of the tribe are white. Something it is about this tribe that you have dreamed. And I am afraid, for Wakunda meant that all faces should be of the colour of the earth. Let the sunlight pass, and then we shall know the meaning of this dream.”
The days grew into years, and Wa-choo-bay sat at the feet of the old men, learning much.
He learned the names of the thunder spirits that are never spoken aloud. He learned the songs that the thunder spirits love. He learned to call the rain. He learned the manner of the rite of Wazhinadee, by which one may kill a man without the use of weapons. And when he had grown to be a tall youth, he was taken into the sacred lodge where the holy relics are kept. For it seemed plain that Wakunda meant him for a great medicine-man.
But it was in the summer when he had reached the height of a man that Wa-choo-bay did that which marked him for the lonesome way.
It happened that the summer had been one of peace and plenty; so the Omahas called in the Pawnees and the Poncas for a powwow, which is a great feast and a talking.