Morning journal and courier., 1882-12-08
A Disgraced Warrior.
Exciting Scene Witnessed in am Indian
 Village.

Exciting Scene Witnessed in am Indian
 Village.
 From the New York Sun.
 Recently there was witnessed near Poplar river, Montana, one of the most singular scenes in Indian life-the punishment by four Indian girls-the daughters of Polecat-of young Indian hunter who had assaulted one of their number. The following description is that of an eyewitness
 The tribe forms huge ring, in which the savage who provoked the animosity of the Polecat family is summariy thrust. He looks suHeu and dogged. He has hard fight be- fore him, and he knows it; but he is a man of his hands, and he means to wear those girls out if it lies in his muscles and prompt and etfectual work. He may strike them anywhere abo ve the breast and kill them if blow in the neck will do it, but bullets and arrows are ready for him if he strikes foul. The girls, on the other hand, must take off his apron. If they accomplish that, he is disgraced to the uttermost moment of his life, driven from his tribe, left to starve on the prairie and all Indians cautioned against harboring, feeding or associating with him. The injured woman is allowed to have such squaws she may select to assist her. But if she chooses too many to effect her purpase it is disgrace to her, and so she is carefur to select only enough to make the battle near ly equal.
 The Polecat girls are the bellies of the Yanktonias tribe. If squaw can be pretty, these girls are beautiful, and by virtue of their attractions and their fathers posses sions in horses and other satisfactory proper ty they are the aristocrats of the camp. Perhaps for that reason they ask no help in their present undertaking, and for that req son also perhaps their savage sisters giggle and exchange whispers as the four girls step into the ring and approach the waiting buck. All five are in full war paint. Down the hunters cheeks and along h1s neck are alter nate sepia and green and yellow stripes on a background of brilliant red, while his chest sides and back are tricked out with rude pictures of guns, bows and horses. The girls have smeared their faces with coating of red, over which lies another of green, striped with yellow. Their hair is unfastened at the back, and the front locks are braided with otter fur. Each wears 8 skirt and leg gings, but their blankets are laid aside, and their muscular brown arms are display ed.
 There no preliminaries. The girls dash at their enemy and attempt to grasp him. If all hands manage to get hold of him, half the battle is accomplished But he meets them squarely and fairly, planting a cruel blow between the eyes of the girl he had injured, knowing that if she is finished he can compel her to call off the rest. She is the general of the attacking forces and the prime object of attack. Over she goes like a pinwheel, but she Is up again, her face streaming with blood and her eyes swelling. The elder girl had consented to secure waisthold and locked her hands behind his back His fists fall upon her upturned face with frightful force, but she keeps her hold The two other girls are pressing him hard from behind, but his elbows work like bat tering rams, and one steps back with her hands pressed tightly to her breast and a look of agony in her eyes. Now he whrls the face and head of the girl who on her knees still clings to his waist with a death grip. He fairly raises her from the ground as he spins, but her hold never relaxes.
 His earlier victim again dashes at him, and is rewarded by crashing stroke on the again to receive the fist on her neck with a force that whirls her half 8 dozen paces off and drops her like log. Not word is spoken. The thud of his fists and the heavy breathing of the struggling contestants are the only sounds. The last rally of the pros- trate girl has enabled the rear party 0 catch the buck, and one has twined her arms around his neck, while the other hangs to his waist. His left hand is still free, and it fairly wrinkles in the air as he batters the maiden at his waist. Her grasp is like iron, but her head reels and sways as his heavy hand falls on it with 8 noise that reaches the farthest side of the irregular ring. Her eyes are closed and her breath comes convulsively. Were the fourth girl there to grasp that arm. the fight would soon end
 The girl behind is choking him and he employs new tactics. Grasping the kneeling girl by the throat he pounds the face of the one behind him with the back of his head. No vanity prompts her to let him go. She tightens her grip and buries her face in the back of his neck. The fourth girl is up, staggering and dazed. Brushing the blood from her eyes with an angry motion, she ap. breaches him. crouching as she moves. If the blow he has in store for her reaches the mark he will have another chancellor the girl at his waist is growing faint, and he can easily dispose of the other two. She comes at him like a cougar. The blow is delivered full upon her breast, but she grasps his wrist and writhes up his arm.
 Now he is beset with danger. The two on his arms and the one on his waist pull him forward, the girl behind him, still strangling him, throws her weight on his back. In vain he attempts to straighten. The kneeling girl bends in her despairing struggles until her hair falls on the ground. The other three show the muscles rigid in their arms as they press him down upon their kneeling sister. Suddenly he springs backward with mar- vellous effort of strength The faniting girl at his waist finds her hands torn apart. But that triumph was his defeat. With crash he comes to the ground, three girls upon him. One plants herself upon his face and the other two kneel on his arms. There is & struggle, and then the youngest rises with a wild yell, waving the apron in her hand Her yell is echoed by 8 loud moan as the mother of the prostrate hunter staggers out of the circle, and by q grunt of satis- faction as Poecat recognizes the victory of his girls
 To morrow somewhere up the river that disgraced buck will be found with bullet in { his brain. Down in Chief Polecat's lodge four bruised and weary girls are tending each others wounds with sisterly solicitude, and at the other edge of the camp bent old woman looks wistfully away to the north, where the shadows have swallowed up the form of the diegraced warrior