A long time ago, in a village by a lake, there lived a great hunter who was invisible. He was called the Hidden One. It was known that any young woman who could see him would become his bride.
Many were the hopeful young women who visited his wigwam at the far end of the village. Each was tested by the hunter’s sister, who was called the Patient One. But years passed, and none succeeded.
In the same village lived two sisters who had lost their mother. The younger sister had a good heart, but the older one was jealous and cruel. While their father was out hunting, the older sister would torment the younger one, holding her down and burning her arms and face with sticks from the fire.
“Don’t you dare tell our father,” she would say, “or next time will be worse!”
When the father came home, he would ask in dismay, “Why is she burnt again?”
The older sister would answer, “The stupid, clumsy thing! She was playing with the fire, just like you told her not to!”
The father would turn to the younger. “Is this true?”
But she only bit her lip and said nothing.
After a while she had so many scars, she was called Little Scarface. She lost her long braids too, when her sister singed them off. And she had to go barefoot and wear rags, for her sister would not allow her any skins to make moccasins or new clothes.
Of course, the sister made up all different reasons to tell their father. And he would shake his head in sorrow and disappointment.
One day, the older sister put on her finest clothes and many shiny strings of shell beads.
“Do you know what I’m doing?” she asked Little Scarface. “I’m going to marry the Hidden One. Of course, that’s something you could never dream of.”
Little Scarface bowed her head.
When the older sister reached the wigwam at the edge of the village, she was greeted by the sister of the hunter.
“You are welcome,” said the Patient One. “My brother will return soon from the hunt. Come help me prepare the evening meal.”
The two of them worked awhile, until the sun was nearly down. Then the Patient One led the young woman to the shore of the lake.
“My brother comes,” the Patient One said, pointing along the shore. “Do you see him?”
The young woman saw no one, but she had decided to pretend. “Of course. There he is now!”
The eyes of the Patient One narrowed. “And what is his shoulder strap?”
“A strip of rawhide,” said the young woman, thinking it a safe guess.
The Patient One frowned. “Let us return to the wigwam.”
They had just finished making the meal when a deep voice said, “Greetings, my sister.”
The young woman jumped in surprise. She stared at the entrance but saw no one.
“Greetings, my brother,” replied the Patient One.
As the young woman watched with wide eyes, a moccasin appeared in mid-air and dropped to the floor, followed by another. A moment later, bits of food were rising from a birch-bark tray near the fire and vanishing into an invisible mouth.
The young woman turned to the Patient One. “When will our wedding take place?”
The Patient One turned to her angrily. “What wedding? Do you think my brother would marry a liar and a fool?”
The young woman ran crying from the wigwam.
All the next morning she stayed in bed, weeping and sobbing. Then Little Scarface came to her.
“Sister, let me have skins to make moccasins and new clothes. It is my turn to visit the Hidden One.”
“How dare you!” screamed the sister. She jumped up and slapped Little Scarface, knocking her to the floor. “Are you so stupid to think you can do what I couldn’t? Even if you saw him, do you think he’d marry a pathetic thing like you?”
She sank back to the bed in tears.
Little Scarface sat huddled for a long time, listening to her sister howl and sob. Then she rose and said again, “It is my turn to visit the Hidden One.”
Her sister stopped crying and stared in amazement.
Little Scarface went to her father’s chest and took out an old pair of moccasins. She put them on her own small feet.
Then she went out into the woods. She chose a birch tree and carefully stripped off the bark in a single sheet. From this she made a suit of clothes, which she put on in place of her rags.
Then she started back through the village.
“Look at Little Scarface!” yelled a boy. “She’s dressed like a tree!”
“Hey, Little Scarface,” a young man called, “are those moccasins big enough for you?”
“I don’t believe it!” an old woman said. “She’s on her way to the Hidden One!”