therefore, you two will wrestle, and the man who is downed must
dive for the weapon to the bottom of the river."

Scarcely was this speech ended when Tamahay was upon the
soldier, who was surprised both by the order and by the unexpected
readiness of the wily old Indian, so that he was not prepared, and
the Sioux had the vantage hold. In a moment the bluecoat was down,
amid shouts and peals of laughter from his comrades. Having thrown
his man, the other turned and went home without a word.

Sad to say, he acquired a great appetite for "minne-wakan", or
"mysterious water", as the Sioux call it, which proved a source of
trouble to him in his old age. It is told of him that he was
treated one winter's day to a drink of whisky in a trader's store.
He afterwards went home; but even the severe blizzard which soon
arose did not prevent him from returning in the night to the
friendly trader. He awoke that worthy from sleep about twelve
o'clock by singing his death dirge upon the roof of the log cabin.
In another moment he had jumped down the mud chimney, and into the
blazing embers of a fire. The trader had to pour out to him some
whisky in a tin pail, after which he begged the old man to "be good
and go home." On the eve of the so-called "Minnesota Massacre" by
the Sioux in 1862, Tamahay, although he was then very old and had
almost lost the use of his remaining eye, made a famous speech at
the meeting of the conspirators. These are some of his words, as
reported to me by persons who were present.

"What! What! is this Little Crow? Is that Little Six? You,
too, White Dog, are you here? I cannot see well now, but I can see
with my mind's eye the stream of blood you are about to pour upon