ghting their pipes, and to throw them carelessly
away. It was thought that a little time had been spent in an attempt to
put it out.

The council decreed that a strict look-out should be established in
behalf of our party. Every day a scout was appointed to reconnoitre in
the direction of the smoke. It was agreed that no gun should be fired
for twelve days. All our signals were freshly rehearsed among the men.
The women and old men went so far as to dig little convenient holes
around their lodges, for defense in case of a sudden attack. And yet an
Ojibway scout would not have suspected, from the ordinary appearance of
the camp, that the Sioux had become aware of their neighborhood! Scouts
were stationed just outside of the village at night. They had been so
trained as to rival an owl or a cat in their ability to see in the dark.

The twelve days passed by, however, without bringing any evidence of
the nearness of the supposed Ojibway war-party, and the "lookout"
established for purposes of protection was abandoned. Soon after this,
one morning at dawn, we were aroused by the sound of the unwelcome
warwhoop. Although only a child, I sprang up and was about to rush out,
as I had been taught to do; but my good grandmother pulled me down, and
gave me a sign to lay flat on the ground. I sharpened my ears and lay
still.

All was quiet in camp, but at some little distance from us there was a
lively encounter. I could distinctly hear the old herald, shouting and
yelling in exasperation. "Whoo! whoo!" was the signal of distress, and I
could almost hear the pulse of my own blood-vessels.

Closer and closer the struggle came, and still the women appeared to
grow more and more calm. At last a tremendous charge by the Sioux put
the enemy to flight; there was a burst of yelling; alas! my friend and
teacher, old Smoky Day, was silent. He had been pierced to the heart by
an arrow from the Ojibways.

Although successful, we had lost two of our men, Smoky Day and White
Crane, and this incident, although hardly unexpected, darkened our
peaceful sky. The camp was filled with songs of victory, mingled with
the wailing of the relatives of the slain. The mothers of the youths who
were absent on the war-path could no longer conceal their anxiety.

One frosty morning--for it was then near the end of October--the weird
song of a solitary brave was heard. In an instant the camp was thrown
into indescribable confusion. The meaning of this wa