But it is late in the afternoon; and as they do not start till the
morning, something must be done to pass the long evening. "If this were
full," said a young hunter, kicking at the same time an empty keg that
had once contained whiskey, "if this were full, we would have a merry
night of it."

"Yes," said Grey Iron, whose age seemed to have brought him wisdom,
"the night would be merry, but where would you be the day after. Did you
not, after drinking that very whiskey, strike a white woman, for which
you were taken to the fort by the soldiers, and kept as a prisoner?"

The young man's look of mortification at this reproof did not save him
from the contemptuous sneer of his companions, for all despise the
Dahcotah who has thus been punished. No act of bravery can wipe away
his disgrace.

But Wenona sat pale and sad in her brother's wigwam. The bright and
happy looks of yesterday were all gone. Her sister-in-law has hushed her
child to sleep, and she is resting from the fatigues of the day. Several
old men, friends of Little Crow's father, are sitting round the fire;
one has fallen asleep, while the others talk of the wonderful powers of
their sacred medicine.

"Why are you sad, Wenona," said the chief, turning to her; "why should
the eyes of a chief's sister be filled with tears, and her looks bent on
the ground?"

"You need not ask why I am not happy," said Wenona: "Red Cloud brought
presents to you yesterday; he laid them at the door of your wigwam. He