Fiery Man looked to see his wife and child among them, and was disappointed and irritated at not seeing them; but he remembered White Moon was always backward in joining these noisy parties, and thus he accounted for her absence.
His tall figure was slightly clad, for the weather was warm—in his right hand he held a spear, and on its top was a scalp recently taken. He strode on without waiting to explain the occasion of this, only thinking of his wife and son. He did not miss his sister, though he might well have done so, for she was always ready with her strong arm to assist the hunters, and her loud voice to give directions to the women.
There was a great deal of confusion as they entered the village, for the absence of the three hunters had been accounted for, though not by Fiery Man, who had passed forward towards his lodge.
The hunters, enthusiastic with their success, (for the number of buffalo they had killed was unusually great,) were surprised by a party of Iroquois, and in the sudden terror three of the Sioux, who had laid down their arms, intending to sleep, were killed and scalped. These Iroquois had come from a great distance; their villages were in the western part of New York. They were then in the height of their power, and constantly performed exploits that astonished other Indian nations.
But that a small party should have travelled four hundred leagues, living by chance, surrounded by their enemies; that they should venture among so powerful a people with such an object, is indeed remarkable; that they should have been successful, is still more so.
They lost one of their party. Fiery Man pursued them, with some others, as they endeavoured to make their escape, and killed one, whose scalp adorned his spear.
The lamentations of the families whose relatives had been killed, their affectionate but melancholy reception of their dead bodies—for they had been wrapped in skins and brought home—the loud talking of those engaged in caring for the immense quantities of buffalo-meat and the valuable skins,—all these were unnoticed and indeed unheard by Fiery Man.
Even his stout heart quailed before the silent and gloomy appearance of his lodge. There was not even an evidence of habitation.
The lodge on which White Moon had been engaged lay heaped up near it; but there was no one there to welcome him.
He threw up the door and looked in; then started almost affrighted at what he saw. His sister lay dead—and the only creature near her was the small dog that had been always by her side during life. He could not mistake the horrible symptoms,—the fallen jaw, the dark-looking blood, the face calm and composed in its expression, as it never had been in life.