umph
above the fluid, even after his body had sunk into the tide for ever.
Hard-Heart was by this time free. The silence, which had hitherto
reigned in the bands, was suddenly broken by general and tumultuous
shouts. Fifty of the adverse warriors were already in the river,
hastening to destroy or to defend the conqueror, and the combat was
rather on the eve of its commencement than near its termination. But to
all these signs of danger and need, the young victor was insensible. He
sprang for the knife, and bounded with the foot of an antelope along the
sands, looking for the receding fluid which concealed his prize. A dark,
bloody spot indicated the place, and, armed with the knife, he plunged
into the stream, resolute to die in the flood, or to return with his
trophy.

In the mean time, the sands became a scene of bloodshed and violence.
Better mounted and perhaps more ardent, the Pawnees had, however,
reached the spot in sufficient numbers to force their enemies to retire.
The victors pushed their success to the opposite shore, and gained the
solid ground in the melee of the fight. Here they were met by all the
unmounted Tetons, and, in their turn, they were forced to give way.

The combat now became more characteristic and circumspect. As the
hot impulses, which had driven both parties to mingle in so deadly
a struggle, began to cool, the chiefs were enabled to exercise their
influence, and to temper the assaults with prudence. In consequence of
the admonitions of their leaders, the Siouxes sought such covers as the
grass afforded, or here and there some bush or slight inequality of the
ground, and the charges of the Pawnee warriors necessarily became more
wary, and of course less fatal.

In this manner the contest continued with a varied success, and without
much loss. The Siouxes had succeeded in forcing themselves into a thick
growth of rank grass, where the horses of their enemies could not
enter, or where, when entered, they were worse than useless. It became
necessary to dislodge the Tetons from this cover, or the object of the
combat must be abandoned. Several desperate efforts had been repulsed,
and the disheartened Pawnees were beginning to think of a retreat, when
the well-known war-cry of Hard-Heart was heard at hand, and at the next
instant the chief appeared in their centre, flourishing the scalp of the
Great Sioux, as a banner that would lead to victory.

He was greeted by a shout of delight, and fo