Without troubling to withdraw the arrow, Harka cut some slices of venison and cooked and ate.
All night he tended the fire that it might not die down and leave him in darkness, and in the early morning he again set out upon his journey.
At noon he shot his second arrow into the air, and toward evening he found it buried in the heart of an elk. That night he had elk meat for supper, and the next day he went on his way, traveling swiftly, but he forgot the arrow.
He waited till noonday and then shot from his bow his third and last arrow. That evening he came to where a buffalo lay dead, slain by the arrow. Once more he ate and rested by the fire, and at dawning he set out again upon his journey.
When noon came he had no arrow to shoot, for he had left them all behind him.
By evening Harka was very hungry, but there was nothing for him to eat.
Suddenly he saw the light of a fire just ahead of him. He advanced toward it, slowly and cautiously, fearing it might be the encampment of some enemy, but he saw no one except an old woman who was stirring something in a pot that hung over the fire. Never was seen an old woman half so horrible and terrifying as she. Her face was more like that of a skull than of a human being. Her gray hair hung down about her like a mat; her eyes were as red as fire, and her nails so long that she could hardly close her hands. About her neck was a necklace of bones, and about her waist a girdle of scalps.
After looking at her for awhile, Harka was about to steal quietly away when, without looking up, the old woman called to him, “Come nearer to the fire, Harka. Supper is almost ready.”
Harka came forward into the firelight, and the old witch, still without looking up, bade him be seated.
Suddenly the scalps about her waist burst into a shout of laughter, and the hag joined in with them, laughing loudly. Then they fell silent, and the old woman too became quiet, scowling and muttering to herself as she bent over the pot.