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.