and was not yet fully aware of it. In spite of
her fresh grief, she had been inexplicably happy since her last meeting
with Matoska, for she had seen in him that which is so beautiful, so
compelling in man to the eyes of the woman who loves. He, too, now
cherished a real hope, and felt as if he could rush into the thickest of
the battle to avenge the brother of his beloved!

In a few days the war-party had reached the Big Horn and sent out
advance scouts, who reported a large Crow encampment. Their hundreds of
horses covered the flats like a great herd of buffalo, they said. It was
immediately decided to attack at daybreak, and on a given signal they
dashed impetuously upon the formidable camp. Some stampeded and drove
off a number of horses, while the main body plunged into the midst of
the Crows.

But the enemy were not easily surprised. They knew well the Sioux
tactics, and there was a desperate struggle for supremacy. War-club was
raised against war-club, and the death-song of the arrow filled the
air! Presently the Sioux were forced to retreat, with the Crows in hot
pursuit, like wolves after their prey.

Red Owl and Matoska had been among the foremost in the charge, and
now they acted as a rear-guard, bravely defending the retreat of their
little army, to the admiration of the enemy. At last a Crow raised his
spear against Matoska, who in a flash dismounted him with a stroke of
his oaken bow; but alas! the blow snapped the bow-string and left him
defenseless. At the same instant his horse uttered a scream and fell,
throwing its rider headlong!

There was no one near except Red Owl, who clapped his heels to his pony
and joined in the retreat, leaving Matoska behind. He arose, threw down
his quiver, and advanced alone to meet the oncoming rush of the Crows!

The Sioux had seen him fall. In a few moments he was surrounded by the
enemy, and they saw him no more.

The pursuit was stopped, and they paused upon a hilltop to collect the
remnant of their force. Red Owl was the last to come up, and it was
observed that he did not look like himself.

"Tell us, what were Matoska's last words?" they asked him.

But he silently dismounted and sent an arrow through his faithful steed,
to the astonishment of the warriors. Immediately afterward he took out
his knife and stabbed himself to the heart.

"Ah!" they exclaimed, "he could not live to share our humiliation!"

The war-party returned defeated and cast down by th