e buffalo, should find its way to the heart of the
trespasser!

This act enraged the half-breeds; they could not find the Sioux who
committed it--but a few days after they fell in with a party of others,
who were also hunting, and killed seven of them. The rest escaped, and
carried the news of the death of their braves to their village. One of
the killed was a relative of Sullen Face. The sad news spread rapidly
through the village, and nothing was heard but lamentation. The women
cut long gashes on their arms, and as the blood flowed from the wound
they would cry, Where is my husband? my son? my brother?

Soon the cry of revenge is heard above that of lamentation. "It is not
possible," said Sullen Face, "that we can allow these English to starve
us, and take the lives of our warriors. They have taken from us the food
that would nourish our wives and children; and more, they have killed
seven of our bravest men! we will have revenge--we will watch for them,
and bring home their scalps, that our women may dance round them!"

A war party was soon formed, and Sullen Face, at the head of more than
fifty warriors, stationed himself in the vicinity of the road by which
the half-breeds from Red river drive their cattle to Fort Snelling.

Some days after, there was an unusual excitement in the Sioux village on
Swan lake, about twenty miles northwest of Traverse des Sioux. A number
of Indians were gazing at an object not very distant, and in order to
discover what it was, the chief of the village, Sleepy Eyes, had sent
one of his young men out, while the rest continued to regard it with
looks of curiosity and awe.

They observed that as the Sioux approached it, he slackened his pace,
when suddenly he gave a loud cry and ran towards the village.

He soon reached them, and pale with terror, exclaimed, "It is a spirit,
it is white as the snow that covers our prairies in the winter. It
looked at me and spoke not." For a short time, his fears infected the
others, but after a while several determined to go and bring a more
satisfactory report to their chief. They returned with the body, as it
seemed only, of a white man; worn to a skeleton, with his feet cut and
bleeding, unable to speak from exhaustion; nothing but the beating of
his heart told that he lived.

The Indian women dressed his feet, and gave him food, wiped the blood
from his limbs, and, after a consultation, they agreed to send word to
the missionaries at Traverse