Then from all the Indians around there rose a shout of laughter and of jeering. “He is afraid of the dark!” they shouted. “He has said it!” And even the children laughed and jeered at him.
Then Harka arose and cried, “You think I am a coward, but I will prove to you before long that I am as brave as any man in the tribe, either youth or warrior.”
“How will you prove it, Harka?” they mocked at him; and one cried, “Bring us the head of Pahundootah! Then we will believe you.”
Now Pahundootah was a sorcerer, so powerful and wicked that he was the terror of all the villages. Even the warriors feared him, and women and children shuddered at his name.
But in his anger Harka answered rashly, “I will bring you the head of Pahundootah.”
Then again the shouts arose, mocking and jeering at him. None believed him, but they thought him an idle boaster.
But Harka wrapped his blanket about him and went back in silence to his lodge, and the sound of laughter followed him, and his heart was troubled within him. He had said that he would bring them the head of the sorcerer, and now unless he kept his promise he would be ashamed to face again his people and have them taunt him for his boasting.
Early the next morning Harka arose, and without saying anything to any one, he took from a bag that hung in the lodge three magic arrows belonging to his father, and set out upon a journey. He had determined to seek out Pahundootah and either slay him or be slain.
All the morning he traveled on without stopping, and at noon he shot one of the magic arrows high into the air. He carefully noted the direction in which it went and then followed, running swiftly and lightly.
Toward evening he came to where a deer lay dead, with the arrow sticking in it.