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Updated: May 11, 2025
He saw a bush stir, when there was no wind, and then he saw the face of the Indian chief Chaska, appear beside the bush. After him came the remainder of the seven and they advanced toward the ford. Henry raised his rifle and aimed at Chaska. He picked a spot on the broad and naked chest, where he could make his bullet strike with absolute certainty. Then he lowered it.
"Send in Chaska, the assailant of my son, and Thunder Hawk, the boaster, or there is war between the Great Father and you and yours."
He could not fire thus upon an unsuspecting enemy, although he knew that Chaska would have no such scruples about him. Pursing his lips he uttered a loud sharp whistle, a whistle full of warning and menace. The seven sprang back among the bushes. The eighth on the other side of the river lay quite still for a little while.
All that day we rumbled and rattled into a strange country, feeding our little engine with logs of wood, which we stopped occasionally to secure from long ricks which lined the banks of the river. At Chaska, at Granite Falls, I stepped off, but did not succeed in finding employment.
Chaska had raised up a little to take aim, and, before the smoke from his own weapon rose, the rifle on the other side of the river cracked. Chaska threw up his hands and died as he would have wished to die, on the field of battle, and with his face to the foe. The others shrank farther back among the bushes, daunted by the deadly shot, and the hidden foe who held the ford.
The eagle feather in his hair was fluttering, and the smile was still on his lips as they reached the last half mile. Then, in weird and mouthing tone, Chaska sang of wind and wings: "Ho, Huya, Huya deshka, Huya, Huya, Huya deshka, Woo hiya, Woo hiya, Woo hiya, Unkitawa, Unkitawa, Ho!" Strong medicine it must have been, for the Pinto thrilled, and bounded double strong.
No moon and no stars came out. The rain fell gently, softly, almost as if it were ashamed, and the voice of the wind was humble and low. Chaska, Blackstaffe and their men stopped under the interlacing boughs of two giant oaks, and began to collect firewood.
With thunderous hoofs the wild horse splashed through a pool, came crawling, crawling up, till once again he was neck and neck with the wonderful flying steed in the coat of gold. Little Breeches shouted, "Hi! Hi! Hi!" and spurred and smote. Chaska glanced at him and smiled, such a soft little smile.
Already had Chaska and Chaska's mother, with three trusty friends, mounted on swift ponies, been spirited away northward, with instructions to ride all night through the devious trails of the Bad Lands, and never draw rein until they reached the shelter of the Uncapapa lodges beyond the Wakpa Schicha.
Chaska, the sub-chief, the Shawnee who led, was an eager and zealous man, filled with hatred of the white people who had invaded the hunting grounds of his race. He was anxious to bring as many warriors as he could to their mighty gathering, even if he had to travel as far as the farthest and greatest of the Great Lakes.
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