mountain, fails not to bestow upon it his tribute of veneration, or quench his thirst from he creek that bears her name."
A place on White river—where the stream pours its full force against the base of a lofty peak, and the powerful attrition of its waters has formed a rocky precipice of several hundred feet in height—is known as "The Death Song." The singularity of this name led me to enquire the reasons which prompted its bestowment. Ever ready to answer questions of this nature, the old chief related the following story:
"Once, on a time, the Oglallas and Burnt-thighs held their encampment upon the river, opposite to the high point of which my son enquires. While there, a dog-soldier24 of the Burnt-thighs received the offer of six horses from an Oglalla brave, for his only daughter —a sweet flower— such an one as oft pierces the warrior's heart with her charms, when the arrows of enemies fall harmless at his feet. The offer was quickly accepted —for the dog-soldier was poor.
"When Chischille (for that was the name of the fair one) heard she was to become the wife of the Oglalla, she cried for grief, —and so costinate was her resistance, the marriage was deferred for several days on that account.
"But, why did Chischille grieve? She had looked upon a handsome warrior of her own village, and she loved him. She forgot her duty, as a daughter, to love only at her father's bidding. Her heart had been playing truant and had lost itself in the labyrinths of girlish fancy. Bitter were the fruits of that presumption.
"Chischille, in the interval, contrived to meet the one of her choice, and the two fled towards a distant village, there to live in the undisturbed enjoyment of their youthful loves.
"But, alas, for them! They were pursued, and overtaken. The life of the young warrior atoned for his temerity, —while Chischille was cruelly beaten and brought back to her father's lodge.
24 This is the title of those selected to superintend the civil affairs of a village.
"The Oglalla had already paid the purchase price, and, ere the morrow's sunset, was to receive his fair prize at the hand of the dog-soldier.
"Chischille, arising with the dawn, fresh-plaited her hair, and arraying herself in her proudest attire, left the lodge. No one thought strange at seeing her thus gaily dressed for her wedding day, and, as she tripped along, many a warrior's heart beat high and loud at the thought that a creature so lovely was to become the bride of another.
"Directing her course to the river, she crossed it and ascended the high peak upon the opposite side. There, seating herself upon the utmost verge of the precipice, she gazed calmly from its dizzy height.
"In her lofty station, with her raven locks streaming in the winds, and the matchless beauty of her person so enchantingly exposed to view she seemed more like a being of the Spirit-Land than aught human. The sweetest prairie-flower was ne'er halt' so lovely.
"Her strange attitude arrested the eyes of all.
" 'Why sits she there? —she will fall and be dashed to pieces!' was the general cry.' But listen—she sings!'
