The quivers
were soon exhausted; and though blood had been drawn, it was not in
sufficient quantities to impair the energy of the combat.
A series of masterly and rapid evolutions with the horses now
commenced. The wheelings, the charges, the advances, and the
circuitous retreats, were like the flights of circling swallows. Blows
were struck with the lance, the sand was scattered in the air, and the
shocks often seemed to be unavoidably fatal; but still each party kept
his seat, and still each rein was managed with a steady hand. At
length the Teton was driven to the necessity of throwing himself from
his horse, to escape a thrust that would otherwise have proved fatal.
The Pawnee passed his lance through the beast, uttering a shout of
triumph as he galloped by. Turning in his tracks, he was about to push
the advantage, when his own mettled steed staggered and fell, under a
burden that he could no longer sustain. Mahtoree answered his
premature cry of victory, and rushed upon the entangled youth, with
knife and tomahawk.
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