"It is of no use to stay here and die," he said. "The Great Spirit is not willing that we should get away. Let us die bravely."
He added other remarks of the same kind. Then he sang his death song. When this was finished, he gave a shout, and leaped over the cliff.
When the chief had gone, the others sat down and smoked again in silence. After a long time, a weather-beaten old Indian got up and walked to the edge of the cliff.
"See," he said, "there is the soul of our chief, waiting for us to go with him to the land of spirits."
The others looked over, and saw the form of a man far below, waving the bough of a tree.
The old warrior now threw off his blanket and sang his death song. Then he leaped off. The others again looked over, and this time they saw two forms beckoning to them from below.
One after another the Indians jumped, until there were left but two young men who were little more than boys. These two boys were nephews of the chief. They had never been in a war party.
The elder of the two showed his young brother the ghosts of the whole party standing below. He told his brother he must jump off, but the frightened boy begged to be allowed to stay and die on the bare rock.
The elder seized him, and, after a struggle, pushed him over. Then he quietly gathered up all the blankets and guns, and threw them off. He thought the souls of his friends would need these things in their journey to the land of spirits.