He held his shield before him, as he tried to strike me with his spear.

I turned his shield aside, and struck him to the heart.
He fell, and the waters whirled round as they received his body.

The sons of Unktahe shouted fearful cries of rage, but our yells of triumph drowned them.
The water spirits shrank to their home, while we returned to the clouds.
The large rain drops fell slowly, and the bow of bright colors rested between the heavens and the earth.

The strife was over, and we were conquerors.

I know that Unktahe hates me--that he would kill me if he could--but the Thunder bird has greater power than he; the friend of the 'Man of the West' [Footnote: Thunder is sometimes called the Man of the West.] is safe from harm.
Harpstenah had ceased her work, and was listening to the boaster.