When the heavens were black, and
the rain fell in big drops, and the streaked lightning frightened our
women and children, I was a warrior, fighting beside the sons of the
Thunder Bird.
Unktahe rose up before us; sixty of his friends were with him: the
waters heaved and pitched, as the spirits left them to seek vengeance
against the Thunder Birds. They showed us their terrible horns, but they
tried to frighten us in vain. We were but forty; we flew towards them,
holding our shields before our breasts; the wind tore up the trees, and
threw down the teepees, as we passed along.
All day we fought; when we were tired we rested awhile, and then the
winds were still, and the sun showed himself from behind the dark
clouds. But soon our anger rose. The winds flew along swifter than the
eagle, as the Thunder Birds clapped their wings, and again we fought
against our foes.
The son of Unktahe came towards me; his eyes shone like fire, but I was
not afraid. I remembered I had been a Sioux warrior. He held his shield
before him, as he tried to strike me with his spear. I turned his shield
aside, and struck him to the heart.
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