The features of the Sioux were still expressive, though the eyes were closed and the lips thin and compressed; he was encircled with a dignity, which, in all ages and climes, attaches itself to an honourable old age.
Close by his side, and contrasting strongly with the war-chief, was one of his nearest relations. She was his granddaughter, the orphan girl of his favourite son. She was at once his companion, attendant, and idol.
They were never separated, that old man and young girl; for a long time he had been fed by her hands, and now he never saw the light of the sun he worshipped except when she raised and held open the eyelids which weakness had closed over his eyes. She had just assisted his tottering steps, and seated him on the mat, where he might enjoy the pleasant evening-time and the society of those who delighted in the strange stories his memory called up, or who were willing to receive the advice which the aged are ever privileged to pour into the hearts of the young.
The evening meal of the warrior had been a light one, for We-har-ka still held in her small and beautiful hand a bark dish, which contained venison cut up in small pieces, occasionally pressing him to eat again. It was evident there was something unusual agitating his thoughts, for he impatiently put aside the hand that fed him, and taking his pipe, the handle of which was elaborately adorned, he held it to have it lighted, then dreamily and quietly placed it in his mouth.
He had long been an object of reverence to his people; though superseded as a warrior and a leader, yet his influence was still acknowledged in the band which he had so long controlled. He had kept this alive in a great measure by the oft-repeated stories of his achievements, and above all, by the many personal encounters he had had, not only with his enemies, but with the gods, the objects of their devotion and fear.
The pipe was soon laid aside, and his low and murmuring words could not be understood by the group, that, attracted by the unusual excitement that showed itself in the war-chief's manner, had pressed near him.
After a short communing with himself he placed his hand upon the head of the girl, who was watching every change in his expressive face. "My daughter," he said, "you will not be alone—the Eagle Eye will not again see the form of his warrior son: he would have charged him to care for his sister, even as the small birds watch and guard around the home of the forest god.
"The children of the Great Spirit must submit to his will. My heart would laugh could I again see the tall form of my grandson. I would see once more the fleetness of his step and the strength of his arm; but it is not to be. Before he shall return, crying, 'It is for my father, the scalp of his enemy,' I shall be roaming over the hunting-grounds of the Great Spirit. Do not weep, my daughter; you will be happy in your husband's wigwam, and you will tell your children how the Eagle Eye loved you, even till his feet started on the warrior's journey.
"Your brother will return," he continued, "and it is for him that I lay aside the pipe, which I shall never smoke again; the drum that I have used since I have been a medicine-man, I wish laid near my side when I shall be dead, and wrapped in the buffalo robe which will cover me.