ectly to it, and when you get
there, do not forget my wants as I stated to you before."
Wassamo promised obedience to these directions, and, at the appointed
time, set out in company with his wife. They traveled on a pleasant
course, his wife leading the way, until they reached a rising ground.
At the highest point of this ground, she said, "We will soon get to your
country."
It suddenly became broad day, as they came upon a high bank; they
passed, unwet, for a short distance under the lake, and presently
emerged from the water at the sand-banks, just off the shore where
Wassamo had set his nets on the night when he had been borne away by the
two strange females.
He now left his wife sheltered in a neighboring wood, while he advanced
toward the village alone.
Musing sadly, and from time to time breaking forth in mournful cries, as
he walked the shore, it was his cousin that Wassamo beheld as he turned
the first point of land by the lake.
With the speed of lightning the cousin rushed forward. "Netawis!
Netawis!" he cried, "is it indeed you? Whence have you come, oh, my
cousin?"
They fell upon each other's necks, and wept aloud. And then, without
further delay or question, the cousin ran off with breathless dispatch
to the village. He seemed like a shadow upon the open ground, he sped so
fast.
He entered the lodge where sat the mother of Wassamo in mourning for her
son. "Hear me," said the cousin. "I have seen him whom you accuse me of
having killed. He will be here even while we speak."
He had scarcely uttered these words when the whole village was astir in
an instant. All ran out and strained their eyes to catch the first view
of him whom they had thought dead. And when Wassamo came forward, they
at first fell from him as though he had been in truth one returned from
the Spirit-land. He entered the lodge of his parents. They saw that it
was Wassamo, living, breathing and as they had ever known him. And joy
lit up the lodge-circle as though a new fire had been kindled in the
eyes of his friends and kinsfolk.
He related all that had happened to him from the moment of his leaving
the temporary night-lodge with the flame on his head. He told them of
the strange land in which he had sojourned during his absence. He added
to his mother, apart from the company, that he was married, and that he
had left his wife at a short distance from the village.
She went out immediately in search of her; they soon f
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