Poor Shee-shee-banze! he loved Way-gee-mar-kin so." To their great surprise, the day after the funeral, Shee-shee-banze came walking towards the wigwam of the dead chief.

As he walked, he sang, or rather chaunted to a monotonous strain,[50] the following:-- "Way-gee-mar-kin is dead, is dead, I know who killed him.
I guess it was I--I guess it was I." All the village was aroused.

Everybody flew in pursuit of the murderer, but he evaded them, and escaped to a place of safety.
Soon after, he again made his appearance, mincing as he walked, and singing to the same strain as before,-- "If you wish to take and punish me, Let the widows come and catch me." It seemed a good idea, and the young women were recommended to go and entice the culprit into the village, so that the friends of the deceased could lay hold of him.
They went forth on their errand.

Shee-shee-banze would suffer them to approach, then he would dance off a little--now he would allow them to come quite near; anon he would retreat a little before them, all the time singing, "Come, pretty widows, come and catch me." Thus he decoyed them on, occasionally using honeyed words and flattering speeches, until he had gained their consent to return with him to his lodge, and take up their abode with him.
The friends of the murdered chief were scandalized at such inconstancy, and resolved to punish all three, as soon as they could catch them.
They surrounded his lodge with cries and threatenings, but Shee-shee-banze and his two brides had contrived to elude their vigilance and gain his canoe, which lay in the river, close at hand.
Hardly were they on board when their escape was discovered.

The whole troop flew after them.