Cold and stiff from his wounds, he crept out on
the bank and lay down in the warm sunshine. Soon he fell asleep.
When he awoke the sun was in the middle of the sky. His leg and arm
were swollen and pained him, yet he started to go home, and for a
time struggled onward; but at last, tired and discouraged, he sat
down.
"Ah," he said to himself, "true were the signs! How crazy I was to
go against them! Now my bravery has been useless, for here I must
stop and die. The widows will still mourn, and who will care for my
father and mother in their old age? Pity me now, O Sun; help me, O
Great Above Person! Give me life!"
Something was coming through the brush near him, breaking the sticks
as it walked. Was it the Snakes following his trail? Mika'pi
strung his bow and drew his arrows from the quiver. He waited.
No, it was not a Snake; it was a bear, a big grizzly bear, standing
there looking down at Mika'pi. "What is my brother doing here?"
said the bear. "Why does he pray for life?"
"Look at my leg," said Mika'pi; "swollen and sore. See my wounded
arm; I can hardly hold the bow. Far away is the home of my people,
and my strength is gone. Surely here I must die, for I cannot walk,
and I have no food."
"Take courage, my brother," said the bear. "Keep up a strong heart,
for I will help you, and you shall have life."
When he had said this he lifted Mika'pi in his arms and took him
to a place where there was thick mud, and there he took great
handfuls of the mud and plastered it on the wounds, and while he
was putting on the mud he sang a medicine song.
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