The Last Ftskun 283 



one by one the stragglers fell never to rise 

 again. Finally all was over, and only the 

 sound of dying bison came feebly up to the 

 listening ears of the braves. Then the 

 squaws, whose hour had come, descended 

 into this arena of blood and began the skin- 

 ning and cutting up of the meat. 



That night there was a gorge in the vil- 

 lage of the Crees that was memorable for 

 many a year. All night the flesh-pots 

 simmered over the fires, and the gorge went 

 on. When all could eat no more, they lay 

 down like glutted animals and slept, and 

 their hearts were glad because their stomachs 

 were full. 



On the crest of a distant swell Buck 

 turned and looked back for a second. He 

 saw the dancing circle of yelling Indians 

 leaping about the edge of the death-pen 

 where something told him that his little 

 herd floundered. One glance was enough 

 for the King, who was a King no longer. 



