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 cinged 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.