Having done this, he said to his sister: “You two shall go together. This shall be done on the way: As soon as you become wearied, the dog will stop beside a tree, and then you must descend from his back; and as soon as he becomes tired he will likewise stop beside a tree. You must watch for this, and then you must descend from his back, and run ahead as fast as it is possible for you to go. Thus you two must make your way homeward. You must keep a course directly eastward without fail. You two must remain in camp at night on the way; and you, my sister, must lie down beside the dog’s body. You two must not get far apart from each other, and you must take rests. He himself knows when you should rest, and you must regulate your actions by what he does, for it is a fact that he is our brother. You must know, too, that it is uncertain whether you will see the old woman, who is immune to the arts of sorcery and who, too, is able, it may be, to overcome our orenda (magic power). It seems uncertain whether you shall again see Hahadodagwatʻha; it is uncertain, I say, for verily, it is I who am called Hahadodagwatʻha.” Then he added: “Now, you two flee;” whereupon the younger sister mounted the dog’s back, and her brother again spoke to her, saying: “Have courage. We shall have the good fortune of your safe arrival in the place where our mother dwells.”
Thereupon, the two started away in great haste, the brother remaining alone in the lodge.
As the sister rode the dog, he would stop beside a tree, whereupon she would say: “Oh, now! my brother has become quite wretched, and I suppose he is now very tired.” With this she would descend from his back, and they two would go on. They kept a certain course directly toward the east. Having gone a great distance, they two would stop for the night, and the young woman lay down right beside the dog. In the morning they would again start on their journey. After going only a short distance, the dog would again stop [[673]]beside a tree. Then the young woman would say: “Oh! my brother is to be pitied; now he wants to bear me again on his back, I suppose.” So saying, she would mount the dog, which at once would start running with her. When at midday the dog stopped beside a tree, the woman said: “I suppose he is now tired out,” descending from his back. As the dog crouched down she decided that it desired that they should take some rest. Then the dog lay down near by, and she seated herself close to him, saying: “I suppose he is now asleep, being very tired.”
Thus, she sat for a long time looking around. Suddenly a fine-looking bird alighted near her, which she resolved to catch. When she was about to seize it, the bird would fly away, but would usually alight again a little way from its former perch. When the young woman would run up to it with the intention of seizing it, it would fly away just in time to foil her purpose. Thus she pursued it a little farther, still a little farther, but could not catch it, although she was determined to do so.
Suddenly she heard the loud barking of a dog which was approaching, saying, Wuʹ, wuʹ, wuʹ, and at once she ran toward the place, then quite distant, where lay the dog. When she returned to this place the dog was gone, for it had resumed its course and was barking as it went farther and farther. At last it disappeared in the distance. Then the young woman began to weep, indeed, and she repeated the words of her elder brother: “You must not change your course, but you must keep going directly eastward.” While she was so engaged her brother, Hahadodagwatʻha, arrived there, having overtaken her.
He remained for two days, when the footsteps of some one were heard by him, and suddenly the old woman, entering the lodge, said: “Lo! Where is your wife?” He answered: “Did you not meet them on the way?” “I did not,” she replied. He said to her: “It may be that while you and they were gathering things by the way you missed one another.” The old woman answered: “Oh, that is true, of course, I suppose. Without ceasing, his pets are uttering notes. At times my mind is deeply troubled by this state of affairs. So let it be. I shall now go back to the other place, for they have probably arrived there now.”
In a very short time the old woman departed for her home. Running through bypaths, the young man reached it ahead of the old woman, who found him sitting there when she arrived. Her son’s pets were making a great noise when she entered the lodge, whereupon she said: “Lo! Where is my daughter-in-law?” He answered her sneeringly: “Pshaw! My daughter-in-law, you say! Why, she has gone home. When she and I returned there all the food was exhausted, so she longed for her mother. I said that in two days’ time [[674]]we would return here.” Thereupon the screech owl kept saying: “It is another one, it is another one, it is another one,” while the horned owl said: “Hi, hi, hi, hi; he has taken his younger sister to wife; hi, hi, hi, hi.” Finally, the old woman exclaimed: “I am beginning to give attention to what is being said, for they have never before during the time you have had them as pets acted in this manner.” In reply the young man said: “Pshaw! you are all the time paying attention to what they are saying; instead you must give them meat, and then they will stop as usual. This is all you have to do to quiet them.” Then he started for his own lodge, saying: “After two days’ time you must again go there.”
The only thing he did when he arrived at his lodge was to make preparations for leaving, and when everything was ready he departed. He followed his sister, keeping on the track made by the dog as it ran along homeward. He had fled some distance when his body became very weak.
At the end of two days the old woman went to the lodge of the young people, where she found no one. Turning to the fire pit in her great anxiety she was surprised by hearing the fire again say, thrice in succession: “My friend has killed me.” Thus it spoke. Thereupon the old woman said: “Oh! my son lies there where I have been thinking he lay all the time. It is exceedingly dismal to think of.” Then she began to dig up the fireplace; and she found him lying there with his face upturned and an arrow sticking through the middle of his breast. At this discovery she began to weep and lament, saying: “Oh, my dear child! you have indeed become wretched. When I have killed them I will return to pay the last rites to you.” So saying, she went out of the lodge and started for her home.
Having arrived at her lodge, she took from a bark receptacle in which it was kept hickory-nut meat and ate it, making the sounds, “Gaoñʼ, gaoñʼ, gaoñʼ,” and saying, too, “I shall fortify my body with this meat.” When she had finished eating her meal she went out of the lodge, and going to a neighboring tree, by her great strength she tore off a great part of it with her paws. Exclaiming, “I do not think that this will suffice,” she reentered the lodge and ate more of the hickory-nut meat. Then she exclaimed, “Now I wonder whether this will do.” Going again to the tree she tore it into shreds, and then exclaimed, “This is now sufficient; I have strength enough.”