at commotion among the bears as they discovered them.
They were glad to see the young bear-woman back again, but they hated
the Dahcotah, and determined on his death. However, they received him
hospitably, conducted him and his wife to a large lodge, gave them food,
and the tired travellers were soon asleep.

But the Dahcotah soon perceived he was among enemies, and he kept a
careful look out upon them. The little Dahcotah was always quarrelling
with the young bears; and on one occasion, being pretty hungry, a cub
annoying him at the time very much, he deliberately shot the cub with
his bow and arrow, and ate him up. This aroused the vengeance of the
bears; they had a consultation among themselves, and swore they would
kill both father and son.

It would be impossible to tell of the troubles of Chaske. His wife, he
could see, loved one of the bears, and was anxious for his own death;
but whenever he contended with the bears he came off victor. Whether in
running a foot race, or shooting with a bow and arrow, or whatever it
might be, he always won the prize, and this made his enemies still
more venomous.

Four years had now passed since Chaske left his native village, and
nothing had ever been heard of him. But at length the wanderer returned.

But who would have recognized, in the crest-fallen, melancholy-looking
Indian, the gay warrior that had left home but a few years before? The
little boy that held his hand was cheerful enough, and seemed to
recognize acquaintances, instead of looking for the first time on the
faces of his father's friends.

How did the young girls laugh when he told of the desertion of his first
wife; but when he continued his story, and told them of the
faithlessness of the bear woman also, you heard nothing but shouts of
derision. Was it not a triumph for the Dahcotah women? How had he
scorned them before he went away!--Did he not say that women were only
dogs, or worse than dogs?

But there was one among his old acquaintances who would not join in the
laughter. As she looked on the care-worn countenance of the warrior, she
would fain have offered to put new mocassins upon his feet, and bring
him food. But she dared not subject herself to the ridicule of her
companions--though as night came on, she sought him when there was no
one to heed her.

"Chaske," she called--and the Dahcotah turned hastily towards her,
attracted by the kindness of her voice--"there are no women who love as
the D