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.
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