mong them was as suddenly
suspended, as if the lightning had flashed from the clouds to aid the
cause of the Loups. Then came Ishmael and his stout sons in open view,
bearing down upon their late treacherous allies, with looks and voices
that proclaimed the character of the succour.

The shock was too much for the fortitude of the Tetons. Several of
their bravest chiefs had already fallen, and those that remained were
instantly abandoned by the whole of the inferior herd. A few of the most
desperate braves still lingered nigh the fatal symbol of their honour,
and there nobly met their deaths, under the blows of the re-encouraged
Pawnees. A second discharge from the rifles of the squatter and his
party completed the victory.

The Siouxes were now to be seen flying to more distant covers, with the
same eagerness and desperation as, a few moments before, they had been
plunging into the fight. The triumphant Pawnees bounded forward in
chase, like so many high-blooded and well-trained hounds. On every side
were heard the cries of victory, or the yell of revenge. A few of the
fugitives endeavoured to bear away the bodies of their fallen warriors,
but the hot pursuit quickly compelled them to abandon the slain, in
order to preserve the living. Among all the struggles, which were made
on that occasion, to guard the honour of the Siouxes from the stain
which their peculiar opinions attached to the possession of the scalp of
a fallen brave, but one solitary instance of success occurred.

The opposition of a particular chief to the hostile proceedings in the
councils of that morning has been already seen. But, after having raised
his voice in vain, in support of peace, his arm was not backward in
doing its duty in the war. His prowess has been mentioned; and it was
chiefly by his courage and example, that the Tetons sustained themselves
in the heroic manner they did, when the death of Mahtoree was known.
This warrior, who, in the figurative language of his people, was called
"the Swooping Eagle," had been the last to abandon the hopes of victory.
When he found that the support of the dreaded rifle had robbed his band
of the hard-earned advantages, he sullenly retired amid a shower of
missiles, to the secret spot where he had hid his horse, in the mazes
of the highest grass. Here he found a new and an entirely unexpected
competitor, ready to dispute with him for the possession of the beast.
It was Bohrecheena, the aged friend of