I offered him a bed in my lodge, but he preferred sleeping in his own quarters.
Shortly after his arrival, Fitzpatrick incidentally mentioned that the Cheyennes had killed an entire party of Crows (but he omitted all mention of the part his men had taken in the massacre), and that one of his men had been wounded in the affair. He had also a horse that had belonged to one of the fallen heroes, purchased by him of the Cheyennes. Had he acquainted me with this circumstance when he first saw me, the very unpleasant sequel that I am about to relate would have been avoided.
One of the Crow braves was son to a member of the party massacred, and he recognized his late father's horse. This discovery had occasioned the scrutiny which I had remarked early in the evening, but the cause of which I was in utter ignorance. On the retiring of Fitzpatrick I lay down for the night. I had not fallen asleep, when the murdered brave's son entered my lodge, and addressed me: "Medicine Calf, what must we do with these white men?"
"What must you do with them?" repeated I, not apprehending his meaning.
"Yes, I say so."
"Why, take them into your lodges and feast them, and give them beds to sleep on, if they wish it."
"No, no, that is not what I mean," he said; "you know these are the white men who killed my father. They have his horse here with them, and a wounded man—wounded in their fight with the Crows."
He then left me to go, as I supposed, to his lodge, and I thought. no more of the matter. I soon fell asleep, and woke no more till morning, On awaking, I heard a great rush or trampling of horses, and, springing out of bed, I inquired of a squaw what was the matter in the village.
"Why, don't you know the whites are all dead?" she made reply.
"The whites are all dead!" repeated I, thunderstruck.
I ran out and ordered my warhorse to be got ready in a moment. I next ran to the lodge where Winters slept, and
