AN INDIAN DUEL.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXV, Issue 9178, 6 October 1888, Page 2 (Supplement)

AN INDIAN DUEL.

A FIGHT TO THE DEATH OYER A PALE-FACED SQUAW. The dew was hanging languidly on the delicate blades of grass.as a correspondent, in company with " Lone Sol," a grey-haired veteran Indian fighter and scout, well known in the bloody frontier campaigns, hied themselves on two gooq horses over the prairies south east of Bismarck, D.T. When not many miles from the city we came to a little hollow where few mortals have trodden during the past twelve years. Not a tree, shrub, or blade of grass has grown there. The Indian" and many white people have a dread fear of the place, as it has a general superstitious air and is supposed to be haunted. " Lone Sol" sprang oil' his horse, advanced to a tall, (.lead cottonwood tree, motioning for the correspondent to follow. " Right lu re," he observed, reflectively, "it was where young Light-feather and White Crow, two noted sub-chiefs of the Sioux tribe, fought a duel to the death." Coining up to the spot I saw that there were two small indentations in the earth near the cottonwood, about three rods apart, resembling the impressions probably made by human heads resting there for some time. " What are these holes ?" I asked of Lone Sol. " This is where they fell when both were pierced to the heart by the fatal arrow," replied Sol, " and their bodies fell in opposite directions, their heads making the indentations in the ground." "What was the cause of the duel?" I asked. " It was a love affair," he answered, " in which a beautiful white maiden figured. About ten or eleven years ago the Sioux captured an emigrant waggon bound for the Montana goldfields. Strange to say, they pillaged not the contents nor harmed the occupants, but carried off a lovely young girl about 17 years of age, and the niece of the immigrant. They carried her off to the Sioux camp. Strenuous efforts were made to discover her whereabouts and erlect her rescue, but they all proved fruitless. At her arrival in the camp these two young warriors, Lightfeather and White Grow, laid siege at once for her hand. Like a true-hearted American girl, she repulsed their advances with disdain. Both warriors were jealous of the other's probable success, and the young girl was withoutany means of escape or an avenue of suicide, which she would have embraced, had a chance been afforded, rather than be united with either of the savage brutes. "Both Indians accomplished numerous deeds of valour in hopes of gaining favour in the eyes of the white squaw. She repelled t heir advances, however, and a council was held to determine for her a horrible death should she not come to the conclusion of marrying one of the two braves, and t hey in turn to tight a duel to the death, the survivor to claim the hand of the girl. The day came at last. The two Indians brought their ponies, saddles, bridles, anil all their earthly possessions. These were to be buried with their owner. Almost the entire Sioux tribe turned out. The two jealous braves dismounted and repaired to the battle-ground. Old Sitting Bull furnished the rules for the duel. The contestants were to tight with arrows at close range, to tire wide of their mark at first and then to prepare as rapidly as possible for the second and death-dealing shot. Both arrows hummed by harmlessly, and had hardly left the bow when the second was in readiness and departed on their deadly mission. Both braves dropped simultaneously, without a single gasp or quiver of the body. A cry of horror went up from the hardened mass. Both arrows penetrated the heart- of each warrior, anil they died without a struggle. " The little valley was at that time fresh and verdant, but since not a plant, weed, or shrub of any kind has grown. Spring came. The sun's soft, warm rays touched the earth and grew liquid. The hills murmured with low, countless tongues, and sweet, low music floated gently down their sides. Warm mother earth was sweetened with odours of life Sap stirred in root and bough, and the fibred sod thrilled with delicious passives of new life, but the valley existed cold in death. " One cold, frosty night I accompanied a band ot rescuers to release the lonely white maiden. We reached the dark, still camp and found the tepee in which she was confined. Che awakened on our entrance, and being acquainted with our purpose, sadly shook her head and said she was now resigned to her fate—had become lie squaw of a chief, and the habits and customs of the tribe had entwined themselves about her. We could not prevail upon her to leave, and she is there yet, beautiful as ever, and known as ' Neenamah,' the white squaw of the Sioux." At the dead hour of night a ghostly couple is said to be seen in the hollow. The buzz of arrows is heard and two bodies fall heavily. A weird shriek issues forth from the lonely trees and shrubs and silence reigns supreme.