"The Half-breeds slipped us during the fog, and have joined the gold robbers though not intermixing."
"They had some suspicion."
"The chiefs conjecture that something evil before them in the mad root swamp appalled them."
"Maybe Ahnemekee is heading them off there."
The scout shook his head as if he did not believe the Crows would venture so near the hallowed ground.
"In any case, we are ready. Return to your comrades and begin the battle. We shall also advance if we are not attacked."
"Good!" and the grinning demon bounded away along the hillside.
Very soon the scream of the grey eagle arose, shrill and prolonged.
Firing was opened with that absence of unison betokening that both sides were irregulars. The sound seemed to approach. All at once the war whoops of the savage union resounded like a cannon shot. The gunfire became more intense, and painful cries were tempering cheers and yells of triumph.
Kidd had indeed found the Crows in the dwarf wood, and feared to cross a mad root (Indian turnip) marsh in their teeth. He began a feigned retreat and enticed them into the mouth of the canyon where the Bois-Brulés fell on them, running down the slopes and almost annihilating them in the charge. The few survivors were carried by the impetus in among the rocks and pools of the bottomland, where they were slaughtered almost to a man. But even as the Canadians raised a cry of victory, the Piegans and their allies were rushing upon the white men in much the same manner. The Half-breeds hastened to coalesce with their confederates, and strengthen them against this onset. There was an obstinate struggle, the Indians seeking to detain the whole whilst they encircled them. Kidd, on the contrary, endeavoured to retire up the canyon and regain the tableland on high, where Joe and the rearguard were posted. It was a natural fort.