He gives the appointed signal, and instantaneously plunges his knife
into the heart of the trusting Dahcotah. It was child's play afterwards
to quiet the shrill shrieks of the terrified wife. A moment more, and
she and her child lay side by side, never to awake again.
For a short time broken and shrill cries were heard from the other
teepees, but they were soon over. The two wives of Red Face had laid
down without a fear, though their protector was absent. The elder of the
two clasped her children to her heart, consoled, in a measure, while
listening to their calm breathing, for the loss of the love of her
husband. She knew that the affections of a husband might vary, but the
tie between mother and child is indissoluble.
The young wife wondered that Red Face was not by her side. But he would
return to-morrow, and her welcome would be all the greeting that he
would wish for. While her thoughts are assuming the form of dreams, she
sees the fatal weapon pointed at the mother and child. The bullet that
kills the sleeping infant on its mother's breast, wounds the mother
also; but she flies in horror, though not soon enough to escape the
sight of her other pleading child, her warrior-son, vainly clasping his
hands in entreaty to the savage, who, with another blow from his
tomahawk, puts an end to his sufferings.
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