Peguis, who was a master diplomat, looked on with attention and held his peace.
It was now about a week from the time of the massacre.

Huerter, the discharged soldier spoken of, rode down with a party from the Fort to the field of Seven Oaks.

He saw a number of human bodies scattered on the plain, and in most cases the flesh had been torn off to the bone, evidently by dogs and wolves.
Far from discouraging the talkative half-breeds, whose blood was up with the sights of carnage, McLeod and his fellow-officers expressed their approbation of the deeds done, and the Bois-brules became boisterous in detailing their victories.

The worst of the whole, old Deschamps, a French-Canadian, who murdered the disabled even when they cried for quarter, drew forth as he detailed his valorous actions to Alexander Macdonell, the exclamation, "What a fine, vigorous old man he is!" On the evening of this Red-letter day of the visit to the Indian encampment and to Seven Oaks, a wild and heathenish orgy took place.

The Bois-brules bedecked their naked bodies with Indian trinkets and executed the dance of victory, as had done their savage ancestors.