"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