e gazed towards the point where the waters of the Mississippi
and St. Peter's meet. "I shall never look upon you again, the waters of
the rivers unite, but I have parted forever from country and friends. My
spirit tells me so. Then welcome death! they guard me now with sword and
bayonet, but the soul of the Dahcotah is free."

After their removal to Dubuque, the two prisoners from Fort Snelling,
with others who had been concerned in the murder, suffered much from
sickness. Sullen Face would not complain, but the others tried to induce
him to make his escape. He, at first, refused to do so, but finding his
companions determined upon going, he at last consented.

Their plans succeeded, and after leaving the immediate neighborhood,
they broke their shackles with stones. They were obliged, however, to
hide themselves for a time among the rocks, to elude the sheriff and his
party. They were not taken, and as soon as they deemed it prudent, they
resumed their route.

Two of the prisoners died near Prairie du Chien. Sullen Face, Forked
Horn, and another Sioux, pursued their journey with difficulty, for they
were near perishing from want of food. They found a place where the
Winnebagoes had encamped, and they parched the corn that lay scattered
on the ground.

Disease had taken a strong hold upon the frame of Sullen Face; he
constantly required the assistance of his companions. When they were
near Prairie le Gros, he became so ill that he was unable to proceed. He
insisted upon his friends leaving him; this they at first refused to do,
but fearing that they would be found and carried back to prison, they
consented--and the dying warrior found himself alone.

Some Indians who were passing by saw him and gently carried him to their
wigwam. But he heeded not their kindness. Death had dimmed the
brightness of his eye, and his fast-failing strength told of the long
journey to the spirits' land.

"It was not thus," he said, "that I thought to die! Where are the
warriors of the Sissetons? Do they listen to my death song?" I hoped to
have triumphed over the white man, but his power has prevailed. My
spirit drooped within his hated walls? But hark! there is music in my
ears--'tis the voice of the sister of my youth--"Come with me my
brother, we wait for you in the house of the spirits! we will sit by the
banks of a lake more beautiful than that by which we wandered in our
childhood; you will roam over the hunting grounds of your f