It was a clear and quiet night; the evening
fires were kindled and every teepee transformed
into an immense Chinese lantern. There was
a glowing ring two miles in circumference, with
the wooded river bottom on one side and the
vast prairie on the other. The Black Hills
loomed up in the distance, and the rapids of the
wild Cheyenne sent forth a varying peal of
music on the wind. The people enjoyed their
evening meal, and in the pauses of their talk
and laughter the ponies could be heard munch-
ing at the bundles of green grass just outside
the teepees.
Suddenly a chorus of yells broke cruelly the
peace of the camp, followed by the dashing
charge of the Crow Indian horsemen! It was
met as bravely and quickly by the Sioux; and
in the clear, pale moonlight the dusky warriors
fought, with the occasional flash of a firearm,
while silent weapons flew thick in the air like
dragon-flies at sunset.
The brave mothers, wives, and sisters gave
their shrill war-cry to inspire their men, and
show the enemy that even the Sioux women can-
not be daunted by such a fearful surprise!
When the morning sun sent its golden shafts
among the teepees, they saw it through glisten-
ing tears--happy tears, they said, because the
brave dead had met their end in gallant fight
--the very end they craved! And among those
who fell that night was Brave Hawk, the hand-
some brother of the Blue Sky.
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