Let him
carry the white hairs of an old warrior into the burnt-wood village!"
Few words were necessary, between men who were governed by the same
feelings of glory, and who were so well trained in the principles of
their romantic honour. The Swooping Eagle threw himself from the back
of the horse, and assisted the other to alight. The old man raised his
tottering frame to its knees, and first casting a glance upward at the
countenance of his countryman, as if to bid him adieu, he stretched
out his neck to the blow he himself invited. A few strokes of the
tomahawk, with a circling gash of the knife, sufficed to sever the
head from the less valued trunk. The Teton mounted again, just in
season to escape a flight of arrows which came from his eager and
disappointed pursuers. Flourishing the grim and bloody visage, he
darted away from the spot with a shout of triumph, and was seen
scouring the plains, as if he were actually borne along on the wings
of the powerful bird from whose qualities he had received his
flattering name.
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