Black Eagle, once a strong, fierce young chief whose mind now had become dull, his keen eagle vision blurred, and his great perfectly conditioned body now numb from too many battles and age, first felt the thunder of many hoofs from the ground vibrations before seeing the great cloud of dust across the plain. His thought was of buffalo, perhaps a great herd that would mean plenty of food and clothing for the coming winter, but little did he know that for him and his tribe, winter would never come again, because before he could realize what was about to happen, before anyone could be warned, the tribe was attacked. Women, children, young braves and old were being mercilessly murdered, cut down by rifle and pistol fire. Bodies falling like mating eagles from the sky, death everywhere, tepees smoldering from fire. It was meant that nothing or no one would be left, not one horse, dog, or live indian.