Placing her hand upon his shoulder, she addressed him in a low tone, and
then uttered a fearful shriek, as she staggered backward, saying: "He is
dead! he is dead!"
Such was the fact. The shock of the news brought by the little Indian
girl was too much, and he had expired in his chair without a struggle.
The wild cry which escaped my mother was answered by several whoops from
the woods, and Chitto became frantic with terror.
"Indian be here in minute!" said she.
Mother instantly helped me upon the back of the horse and then followed
herself. She was a skillful rider, but she allowed Chitto to retain the
bridle, and we started off.
Looking back I saw a half-dozen Sioux horsemen come out of the woods and
start on a trot toward us.
Just then Chitto spoke to the horse, and he bounded off at a terrible
rate, never halting until he had gone two or three miles.
Then, when we looked back, we saw nothing of the Indians, and the horse
was brought down to a walk; and finally, when the sun went down, we
entered a dense wood, where we staid all night.
I shall not attempt to describe those fearful hours.
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