returning from
their bloody work, and among them was Tawasuota.

He looked long at the spot where his home had stood; but it was gone,
and with it his family. Ah, the beautiful country of his ancestors! he
must depart from it forever, for he knew now that the white man would
occupy that land. Sadly he sang the spirit-song, and made his appeal to
the "Great Mystery," excusing himself by the plea that what he had done
had been in the path of duty. There was no glory in it for him; he
could wear no eagle feather, nor could he ever recount the deed. It
was dreadful to him--the thought that he had fired upon an unarmed and
helpless man.

The chief soldier followed the broad trail of the fleeing host, and
after some hours he came upon a camp. There were no war-songs nor
dances there, as was their wont after a battle, but a strange stillness
reigned. Even the dogs scarcely barked at his approach; everything
seemed conscious of the awful carnage of the day.

He stopped at a tent and inquired after his beautiful wife and two
little sons, whom he had already trained to uphold their father's
reputation, but was directed to his mother's teepee.

"Ah, my son, my son, what have you done?" cried his old mother when she
saw him. "Come in, come in; let us eat together once more; for I have a
foreboding that it is for the last time. Alas, what have you done?"

Tawasuota silently entered the tent of his widowed mother, and his three
sisters gave him the place of honor.

"Mother, it is not right to blame our brother," said the eldest. "He was
the chief's head soldier; and if he had disobeyed his orders, he would
have been called a coward. That he could not bear."

Food was handed him, and he swallowed a few mouthfuls, and gave back the
dish.

"You have not yet told me where she is, and the children," he said with
a deep sigh.

"My son, my son, I have not, because it will give you pain. I wanted you
to eat first! She has been taken away by her own mother to Faribault,
among the white people. I could not persuade them to wait until you
came. Her people are lovers of the whites. They have even accepted their
religion," grieved the good old mother.

Tawasuota's head dropped upon his chest, and he sat silent for a long
time. The mother and three sisters were also silent, for they knew how
heavy his grief must be. At last he spoke.

"Mother, I am too proud to desert the tribe now and join my wife among
the white people. My brother-