to follow; but her pony was
tired, and the maiden fell farther and farther behind. Many of her
lovers passed her silently, intent upon saving their own lives. Only a
few still remained behind, fighting desperately to cover the retreat,
when Red Horn came up with the girl. His pony was still fresh. He might
have put her up behind him and carried her to safety, but he did not
even look at her as he galloped by.

"Makatah did not call out, but she could not help looking after him. He
had declared his love for her more loudly than any of the others, and
she now gave herself up to die.

"Presently another overtook the maiden. It was Little Eagle, unhurt and
smiling.

"'Take my horse!' he said to her. 'I shall remain here and fight!'

"The maiden looked at him and shook her head, but he sprang off and
lifted her upon his horse. He struck him a smart blow upon the flank
that sent him at full speed in the direction of the Sioux encampment.
Then he seized the exhausted buckskin by the lariat, and turned back to
join the rear-guard.

"That little group still withstood in some fashion the all but
irresistible onset of the Crows. When their comrade came back to them,
leading the War Maiden's pony, they were inspired to fresh endeavor, and
though few in number they made a counter-charge with such fury that the
Crows in their turn were forced to retreat!

"The Sioux got fresh mounts and returned to the field, and by sunset the
day was won! Little Eagle was among the first who rode straight through
the Crow camp, causing terror and consternation. It was afterward
remembered that he looked unlike his former self and was scarcely
recognized by the warriors for the modest youth they had so little
regarded.

"It was this famous battle which drove that warlike nation, the Crows,
to go away from the Missouri and to make their home up the Yellowstone
River and in the Bighorn country. But many of our men fell, and among
them the brave Little Eagle!

"The sun was almost over the hills when the Sioux gathered about their
campfires, recounting the honors won in battle, and naming the brave
dead. Then came the singing of dirges and weeping for the slain! The
sadness of loss was mingled with exultation.

"Hush! listen! the singing and wailing have ceased suddenly at both
camps. There is one voice coming around the circle of campfires. It is
the voice of a woman! Stripped of all her ornaments, her dress shorn
of its fringes, her ankles