The sun was already in the middle when he awoke. His wounds were swollen
and painful; yet he hobbled on for a time, until the pain became so great
he could go no further, and he sat down, tired and discouraged.
"True the signs," he said. "How crazy I was to go against them! Useless now
my bravery, for here I must stay and die. The widows will still mourn; and
in their old age who will take care of my father and my mother? Pity me
now, oh Sun! Help me, oh great Above Medicine Person! Look down on your
wounded and suffering child. Help me to survive!"
What was that crackling in the brush near by? Was it the Snakes on his
trail? Mik-a'pi strung his bow and drew out his arrows. No; it was not a
Snake. It was a bear. There he stood, a big grizzly bear, looking down at
the wounded man. "What does my brother here?" he said. "Why does he pray
to survive?"
"Look at my leg," said Mik-a'pi, "swollen and sore. Look at my wounded
arm. I can hardly draw the bow. Far the home of my people, and my strength
is gone. Surely here I must die, for I cannot travel and I have no food."
"Now courage, my brother," said the bear. "Now not faint heart, my brother,
for I will help you, and you shall survive."
When he had said this, he lifted Mik-a'pi and carried him to a place of
thick mud; and here he took great handfuls[1] of the mud and plastered the
wounds, and he sung a medicine song while putting on the mud. Then he
carried Mik-a'pi to a place where were many sarvis berries, and broke off
great branches of the fruit, and gave them to him, saying, "Eat, my
brother, eat!" and he broke off more branches, full of large ripe berries,
for him; but already Mik-a'pi was satisfied and could eat no more. Then
said the bear, "Lie down, now, on my back, and hold tight by my hair, and
we will travel on." And when Mik-a'pi had got on and was ready, he started
off on a long swinging trot.
[Footnote 1: The bear's paws are called _O-kits-iks,_ the term also for a
person's hands. The animal itself is regarded as almost human.]
All through the night he travelled on without stopping. When morning came,
they rested awhile, and ate more berries; and again the bear plastered his
wounds with mud. In this way they travelled on, until, on the fourth day,
they came close to the lodges of the Pik[)u]n'i; and the people saw them
coming and wondered.
"Get off, my brother, get off," said the bear. "There are your people. I
must leave you." And without another word, he turned and went off up the
mountain.
All the people came out to meet the warrior, and they carried him to the
lodge of his father. He untied the three scalps from his belt and gave them
to the widows, saying: "You are revenged. I wipe away your tears." And
every one rejoiced. All his female relations went through the camp,
shouting his name and singing, and every one prepared for the scalp dance.
First came the widows. Their faces were painted black, and they carried the
scalps tied on poles. Then came the medicine men, with their medicine pipes
unwrapped; then the bands of the _I-kun-uh'-kah-tsi_, all dressed in war
costume; then came the old men; and last the women and children. They all
sang the war song and danced. They went all through the village in single
file, stopping here and there to dance, and Mik-a'pi sat outside the lodge,
and saw all the people dance by him. He forgot his pain and was proud, and
although he could not dance, he sang with them.
Soon they made the Medicine Lodge, and, first of all the warriors, Mik-a'pi
was chosen to cut the raw-hide which binds the poles, and as he cut the
strands, he counted the _coups_ he had made. He told of the enemies he had
killed, and all the people shouted his name and praised him. The father of
those two young sisters gave them to him. He was glad to have such a
son-in-law. Long lived Mik-a'pi. Of all the great chiefs who have lived and
died, he was the greatest. He did many other great and daring things. It
must be true, as the old men have said, that he was helped by the ghosts,
for no one can do such things without help from those fearful and unknown
persons.