“The ‘White Vulture’ is the great fighting-man of the Crow nation; he has heard the words of the ‘Thunder-Cloud’—his ears were open; father! brother!” and as he spoke he clasped them by the hand. “‘Little Star’ looks down from the happy hunting-grounds upon her son. See!” and he led the way, followed by all, to one side of the thicket where stood three horses. “Mount and ride for the Big Fort. The ‘White Vulture’ will die a Crow, but he will never more shed the blood of the whites. Will my father, my brother, think of the chief sometimes, and will the Singing Bird, when she sings in the happy wigwam of my brother, think of the ‘White Vulture’ who is desolate and alone? Away! Ride fast, for the Crow braves must not know that I have saved my father, my brother, and the Singing Bird.”
Soon all were mounted, and walking their horses at first, till they got beyond ear-shot of the village, they then pushed the animals to their utmost speed, taking the hiding-place of the “Crow-Killer’s” roan mare and Dave’s horse on their way.
The “White Vulture” watched them until they disappeared in the distance; then he turned and retraced his steps through the village, entered the lodge by the slit he had cut in the rear, and then went out through the door, passing the two braves, who still kept watch.
When the “Thunder-Cloud” entered the lodge to execute his vengeance upon the hunters, he found, to his astonishment, that they had disappeared!
A terrible commotion was the result of this, and hot chase was given, but it was a useless chase, and the Crows believe to this day that the “Crow-Killer” was aided by some evil power in his escape.
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Abe, Dave and Leona reached Fort Benton in safety, and then proceeded to Spur City, where young Dick Hickman was made to disgorge the property that he had taken possession of as his father’s heir.
Leona and Dave were married; true love met its reward.
The “Crow-Killer” still continues to act as guide, but his account with the Crow nation is closed, and he no longer fights Indians, except in self-defense.
The “White Vulture” became the chief of all the Crow nation, and the terror of all the surrounding tribes. All recognized him as the greatest fighting-man of the north-west. He died as became a great chief, during a raid into the Blackfoot country, at the close of a bloody fight, in which, as usual, he had seemed to bear a charmed life. The victory was with the Crows, and the Blackfeet were scattering, routed, through the timber, when the “White Vulture” suddenly fell from his saddle. Examination showed a bullet, shot from the rear, passing through the head: the chief had been shot by one of his own nation—a relative, doubtless, of the “Black Dog” chief, that had died by the hand of the “White Vulture” on the banks of the Yellowstone. Sorrowfully the Crows bore home the body of the great fighting-man of the Crow nation.