“Wait,” replied his wife.  “These people have given me a great many pretty things.  Let me go back.  When it is night I will gather them up, steal a horse, and cross over to you.”

“No, no,” cried the man.  “Let the pretty things go; come, let us cross at once.”

“Pity me,” said the woman.  “Let me go and get my things.  I will surely come to-night.  I speak the truth.”

“How do you speak the truth?"[1] asked her husband.

[Footnote 1:  Blackfoot—­Tsa-ki-an-ist-o-man-i? i.e., How you like truth?]

“That my relations there across the river may be safe and live long, I speak the truth.”

“Go then,” said the man, “and get your things.  I will cross the river now.”  He went up on the bank and walked down the river, keeping his face hidden.  No one noticed him, or if they did, they thought he belonged to the camp.  As soon as he had passed the first bend, he swam across the river, and soon joined his relations.

“I have seen my wife,” he said to them.  “She will come over as soon as it is dark.  I let her go back to get some things that were given her.”

“You are crazy,” said one of the men, “very crazy.  She already loves this new man she has, or she would not have wanted to go back.”

“Stop that,” said the husband; “do not talk bad of her.  She will surely come.”

III

The woman went back to her lodge with the water, and, sitting down near the fireplace, she began to act very strangely.  She took up pieces of charred wood, dirt, and ashes in her hands and ate them, and made queer noises.

“What is it?” asked the man who had taken her for a wife.  “What is the matter with you?” He spoke in signs.

The woman also spoke in signs.  She answered him:  “The Sun told me that there are seven persons across the river in that piece of timber.  Five of them are middle-aged, another is a young boy with very long hair, another is a man who mourns.  His hair is cut short.”

The Snake did not know what to do, so he called in some chiefs and old men to advise with him.  They thought that the woman might be very strong medicine.  At all events, it would be a good thing to go and look.  So the news was shouted out, and in a short time all the warriors had mounted their best horses, and started across the river.  It was then almost dark, so they surrounded the piece of timber, and waited for morning to begin the search.

“Kyi,” said one of the woman’s relations to her husband.  “Did I not speak the truth?  You see now what that woman has done for us.”

At daylight the poor husband strung his bow, took a handful of arrows from his quiver, and said:  “This is my fault.  I have brought you to this.  It is right that I should die first,” and he started to go out of the timber.

“Wait,” said the eldest relative.  “It shall not be so.  I am the first to go.  I cannot stay back to see my brother die.  You shall go out last.”  So he jumped out of the brush, and began shooting his arrows, but was soon killed.