n.

"But you are not afraid to speak the truth," rejoined the little old
woman. "You will be a brave man yet."

She cheered him with the assurance of her friendship, and began at once
to exercise her power upon him. His hair being very short, she took a
great leaden comb, and after drawing it through his locks several times,
they became of a handsome length like those of a beautiful young woman.
She then proceeded to dress him as a female, furnishing him with the
necessary garments, and tinting his face with colors of the most
charming dye. She gave him, too, a bowl of shining metal. She directed
him to put in his girdle a blade of scented sword-grass, and to proceed
the next morning to the banks of the lake, which was no other than that
over which the Red Head reigned. Now Hah-Undo-Tah, or the Red Head, was
a most powerful sorcerer, living upon an island in the centre of his
realm of water, and he was the terror of all the country. She informed
him that there would be many Indians upon the island, who, as soon as
they saw him use the shining bowl to drink with, would come and solicit
him to be their wife, and to take him over to the island. These offers
he was to refuse, and to say that he had come a great distance to be the
wife of the Red Head, and that if the chief could not seek her for
himself, she would return to her village. She said, that as soon as the
Red Head heard of this he would come for her in his own canoe, in which
she must embark.

"On reaching the shore," added the little old woman, "you must consent
to be his wife; and in the evening you are to induce him to take a walk
out of the village, and when you have reached a lonesome spot, use the
first opportunity to cut off his head with the blade of grass."

She also gave Strong Desire general advice how he was to conduct himself
to sustain his assumed character of a woman. His fear would scarcely
permit him to consent to engage in an adventure attended with so much
danger; but the recollection of his father's looks and reproaches of the
want of courage, decided him.

Early in the morning he left the lodge of the little old woman who makes
war, which was clouded in a heavy brackish fog, so thick and heavy to
breathe, that he with difficulty made his way forth. When he turned to
look back for it, it was gone.

He took the hard beaten path to the banks of the lake, and made for the
water at a point directly opposite the Red Head's lodge.

Where he