"I see the warriors of the palefaces; they have dug up the war hatchet, and are fighting with one another."
"What more does my father see?" Black-Stag resumed.
"I see streams of blood, which redden the soil; the odour of that blood rejoices my heart, for it is the blood of palefaces shed by their brothers!"
"Does my father see anything more?"
"I see the great chief of the whites! he fights valiantly at the head of his soldiers! he is surrounded, he fights still! he is nearly falling—he falls—he is down—he is conquered! His enemies seize him!"
The Ulmens present at this scene looked on in stupefied amazement; it was incomprehensible to them. A smile of disdain curled the lips of Black-Stag, as he continued,—
"Does my father hear anything?"
"I hear the cries of the dying demanding vengeance upon their brothers!"
"Does my father hear anything else?"
"Yes; I hear the cries of Aucas warriors, long since dead, and they freeze me with terror!"