"I suppose it's so," said Albert; "but I feel sorry for Bright
Sun, all the same."
"So do I," said Dick.
The Sioux were finally crowded against the Canadian line, and Sitting Bull and most of the warriors fled across it for safety. But just before the crossing Dick and Albert bore a gallant part in a severe skirmish that began before daylight. A small Sioux band, fighting in a forest with great courage and tenacity, was gradually driven back by dismounted white troopers. Dick, a skirmisher on the right flank, became separated from his comrades during the fighting. He was aware that the Sioux had been defeated, but, like the others, he followed in eager pursuit, wishing to drive the blow home.
Dick lost sight of both troopers and Sioux, but he became aware of a figure in the undergrowth ahead of him, and he stalked it. The warrior, for such he was sure the man to be, was unable to continue his flight without entering an open space where he would be exposed to Dick's bullet, and he stayed to meet his antagonist.
There was much delicate maneuvering of the kind that must occur when lives are known to be at stake, but at last the two came within reach of each other. The Sioux fired first and missed, and then Dick held his enemy at the muzzle of his rifle. He was about to fire in his turn, when he saw that it was Bright Sun.
The chief, worn and depressed, recognized Dick at the same moment.
"Fire," he said. "I have lost and I might as well die by your hand as another."
Dick lowered his weapon.
"I can't do it, Bright Sun," he said. "My brother and I owe you our lives, and I've got to give you yours. Good-by."
"But I am an Indian," said Bright Sun. "I will never surrender to your people."