"Woe! woe!" the young man yelled, as he rushed toward him, and shook him vigorously, to rouse him.
"What is the matter?" the old man asked, opening his eyes, and sitting up. "What news have you?"
"That we are lost!" the Chief replied.
"Lost!" the White Buffalo said, "what is happening then?"
"The six hundred men we had here are drunk, the rest of our confederates are turning against us, and the only thing left to us is to die."
"Let us die then, but as brave men," the old man said, rising.
He asked Natah Otann for details, which he soon gave him.
"The situation is grave, but all is not lost, I hope," he said; "let us collect the few men still capable of fighting, and make head against the storm."
At this moment a tremendous fusillade was heard, mingled with war cries and shouts of defiance.
"The final struggle has commenced!" Natah Otann exclaimed.