again went the alert gun of the soldier, the ball striking the head just
below the scalp-lock and instantly jerking the body into a kneeling
position.

Then all was quiet in the gloomy woods.

After a time the sergeant addressed his voice to the lonely place in
Sioux, telling the women to come out and surrender--to leave the bucks,
etc.

An old squaw rose sharply to her feet, slapped her breast, shouted
"Lelah washatah," and gathering up a little girl and a bundle, she
strode forward to the soldiers. Three other women followed, two of them
in the same blanket.

"Are there any more bucks?" roared the sergeant, in Sioux.

"No more alive," said the old squaw, in the same tongue.

"Keep your rifle on the hole between the rocks; watch these people; I
will go up," directed the sergeant, as he slowly mounted to the ledge,
and with levelled six-shooter peered slowly over. He stepped in and
stood looking down on the dead warriors.

A yelling in broken English smote the startled sergeant. "Tro up your
hands, you d---- Injun! I'll blow the top off you!" came through the
quiet. The sergeant sprang down to see the Swede standing with carbine
levelled at a young buck confronting him with a drawn knife in his
hands, while his blanket lay back on the snow.