An Attack in Force
The light was strong, and the pink tinge in the sky away to the east was already giving place to a golden hue, the forerunner of a scorching sun, as the Indians came in sight. Turning in his saddle, Jack could see them riding in a cluster, and coming at a sharp canter.
"Likely as not they've seed us ten minutes ago," said Tom, taking a close view of the pursuers. "They're right up agin that cloud of smoke, so that it aer not so easy fer us to see them. But we're clear out on the plain, and anyone could spot the tilt of the wagon miles away. Wall, youngster, aer yer skeared?"
Jack laughed. Somehow, for no reason at all, so far as he was aware, the thought of the coming conflict gave him not so much as a qualm. Had the same thing been about to occur three days ago he would perhaps not have been so cheerful; for it is uncertainties which try men, doubt as to the future, and, where blows are to be expected, a vague wondering as to how they will bear themselves. But Jack had met danger already, and met it manfully. In his heart he knew well that he had earned the esteem of these hardened scouts, and at the thought he threw up his head and laughed again.
"Jest like that, aer it?" smiled Tom. "Wall, I knows how yer feel, and I ain't surprised. Yer ain't got no call to fear any ruction in the future, 'cos ye've had an innings, and that teaches a chap a heap. But it aer time to climb into the wagon."
By now all the friends were gathered close beside the huge vehicle save Jacob, who gripped the reins, and Steve, who lay on the boards within. Not one of the men appeared anything but absolutely cool. Indeed they displayed a certain amount of cheerfulness which would have helped to keep up the courage of any weakling, had there been one amongst them. Slipping from their saddles, they unbuckled girths and carried the saddles to the back of the wagon, where one of their number built them into a breastwork. The others at the same time made the bridles fast to the headstall of the wheelers drawing the wagon. Then, at a call from Tom, they came clambering into the wagon.
"And jest you watch them legs of mine," sang out Steve cheerily. "This here Jack's saved 'em fer me with a bit of trouble, and it aer cost them varmint back thar a hull heap, not ter speak of a bad headache that one of 'em's got. Wall, jest keep yer big boots off me. I don't want ter discourage a youngster, and I jest want ter show Jack thar that them legs is goin' ter get useful yet."
They placed the smiling little scout at the forward end of the wagon, and at his urgent request piled a heap of ammunition at his head. A biscuit box propped up one elbow, while the sacking, with its thick padding of grass, was pulled down a few inches.
"So that I kin see ter shoot over," growled Steve, "I ain't fergot as them varmint aer had a bit of fun outer me. Wall, I never did like owin'. I'm agoin' ter pay back prompt, and I'll give 'em full measure ef I can work it."
By now the enemy were within three hundred yards of the wagon, and, looking out, Jack saw that they were riding slowly, while a number were bunched close together, and were carrying on a heated conversation. Behind them rode the younger men, and it was clear from the manner in which they broke from the throng ever and again, and reluctantly rejoined it, that they were eager to begin the attack.
"In course they'll divide," said Tom coolly. "And some of their best men'll be told off to ride in and shoot the hosses, or hamstring 'em if they kin get close enough. Wall, Steve and me'll see to that, and two of the others kin help. Jacob'll shake up the hosses every time the critters make a rush, so as to give 'em harder work ter do. You others'll get in a shot whenever yer kin. It don't need tellin' that yer might jest as well not shoot as miss. Ye've got ter kill every time, or damage a man so bad as he can't move."
"They're dividing," sang out Jack a moment later.
"And by the look of 'em they're goin' ter play some new kind of game. Keep yer eyes skinned, boys, and whatever happens don't let the critters get too near to the hosses. The guns they has ain't much good over a hundred yards. Jest keep 'em that far off, and we shan't come to any hurt."
Five minutes later it was apparent that this body of Indians was led by a crafty individual; for, having divided, instead of dashing forward and attacking the wagon on either side, the two bands, some thirty strong in each case, cantered past the wagon till they were well ahead. Then, to Jack's amazement, they spread themselves out on either side of the track which the wagon would take if it continued the course it was then following.
"They've set their mark on the hosses, boys," sang out Tom at once. "Their game are as clear as daylight. They're jest waitin' fer us to trail on between them, when every man'll let fly with his popgun. Ef they bring down the hosses we're stranded, and they kin then set to work to tackle the wagon. Say, Jacob, bring yer team up smart towards 'em, and, when yer judges you're jest outer shot, wheel 'em sharp to the left, and again to the right when you've run a couple of hundred yards. That'll put all the varmint on one side. Not a shot, boys, till I shout. Them critters ain't got no notion what sort of guns we've got. We want to coax 'em nearer, so as we kin give 'em pepper."
With the huge odds against them it was obvious that it would be to the advantage of the little party of hunters to inflict a severe lesson on the Indians at the very onset of the conflict. And all realized that Tom's scheme was best calculated to bring that about. Kneeling behind the breastwork formed all round the wagon, the scouts peered out from beneath the tilt, their weapons ready to their hands. Jacob, sitting high on the box, wielded the reins with a master hand. Leaning forward so as to give his whip arm free play, he sent the long lash cracking and swishing over the team. Then, having brought them to a canter, he steered them direct for the open space left between the two lines of Indian horsemen. There was a howl of rage as he swung the team to the left, and a great galloping to and fro as he swung to the right again, so placing the wagon to the left of the Indians, but just out of gunshot.
"Them fellers is jest cryin' with rage," laughed Steve as he peered out. "Guess they'll give up all thought of the hosses in a little. It's clear agin Injun nature ter trouble with hossflesh when there's white folks about and scalps to be taken. But jest watch it, Tom. Some of 'em will try a rush in, so as to put a bullet into the team."
Indeed, in less than a minute one of the young braves accompanying the enemy suddenly started from their ranks and galloped madly towards the wagon. His reins lay on the horse's neck, while already his gun was at his shoulder. Tom instantly threw his own weapon into position, paused for a moment, and then drew the trigger.
"Jest the right height, I reckon," cried Steve. "Yer hit him plumb, Tom, and it aer a lesson. But watch it. There'll be more of 'em axing ter be killed."
It was not likely that an old Indian fighter like Steve would be mistaken, and indeed the next few minutes proved that, for other braves dashed from the ranks, singly or in twos and threes. And on each occasion Tom and his comrades defeated their object. None of their bullets went astray. The men who were firing were no hotheads, no untrained recruits. They aimed steadily and coolly, and never missed.
"That aer checked them fer a little," said Tom, as the Indians drew away and rode on a level with the wagon, but some three hundred yards to the right. "They'll get to and have a palaver fer a bit, and then they'll try a rush. That aer what we've got ter fear. Thar's a good fifty of the critters left, and ef they can get all round us, why, some of 'em'll do fer the team while we're busy with the others. Then there won't be no stoppin' them. Yer know the game to play, Jacob?"
The big hunter, perched high on his box, looked round and grinned at Tom.
"Yer bet," he answered. "It's ter be a circus. Yer kin calkilate on me ter do the right thing at the right moment. I'll give the team an easy time till them critters gets frisky agin."
For more than half an hour the little party proceeded on their way, the team walking, while the Indians rode their horses still at the same distance from the wagon. For a while they had stopped, and there had been a palaver. Then they had followed at a trot, and as soon as they were level with the wagon had begun to walk their animals.
"Yer kin see their new game," cried Tom after a while. "Thar's roughish ground ahead. Yer kin see rocks rising in the grass, and they calkilates ter charge when we're fixed up amongst the boulders. Thar wouldn't be the same chance of manœuvring then, and things wouldn't be so favourable by a heap. What do yer think, Steve?"
"It don't want no thinkin'. Ef we push on into that ere rough ground, we're doin' jest what them Injun varmint aer axin' us ter do. That ain't reasonable, and ain't the way of men sich as we aer. We're in fer a muss with them critters, either here or down among the rocks. Wall, do it want decidin' what we aer ter do?"
"Pull the team round, Jacob," sang out Tom promptly, "and get yer irons ready, boys. Thar'll be a bit of shouting. Gee! It fair makes me grin to think how them critters'll be swearin'."
Once more Jacob's whip cracked over the team and set them in rapid motion, a pace which the enemy rapidly adopted. Indeed, it seemed as if the party at whose capture or death they aimed was actually hastening to its own destruction. But the Indians had as crafty a set of men to deal with as themselves. A howl presently escaped them as Jacob swung his team in a complete circle, and sent them heading back over the wheelmarks they had just made.
"Jest watch it, boys," sang out Tom. "Human natur can't stand that 'ere sort of thing, and Injun natur in partic'ler. They've jest been bamboozled, and ef there aer a thing that's sartin ter raise the dander of them varmint, it aer bein' bamboozled. Jest keep yer eyes skinned, and start in with the shootin' as soon as they aer within easy range. Yer kin keep yer shooters till they're up ter the wagon."
For five minutes perhaps the Indians rode beside the wagon, keeping pace with it—for the team had again dropped to a walk—and maintaining the same distance from it. Then Steve suddenly drew the attention of his comrades to a remarkable fact.
"Ain't they cute!" he cried. "They're givin' the idea that they're jest ridin' along at the same distance. But ef yer watch carefully, them critters is edgin' in all the while. In a bit they'll be near enough to make a rush. Jest sit tight, boys, while I put in a sorter warnin' shot."
He leaned well over his sights and squinted along the barrel, aiming at an Indian who, by his gestures, and the manner in which the others followed him, was undoubtedly the leader. Then the interior of the wagon was filled with blinding smoke, while a thundering detonation deafened the little party of white men. Instantly the Indian chief threw up his arms, fell back on the quarters of his horse, and slid to the ground. And at once there arose such a babel of shouts and shrill yells of anger that anyone might well have been alarmed. For it was contrary to Indian habit to give way so openly to wrath. It seemed, indeed, as if the conflict they had entered upon with these whites had tried the temper of the enemy more than usual, and if Jack had only known it his own unexpected success against them, the manner in which he had slain two of their most cunning young braves, had maddened the others. They felt as if their reputation, even their bravery, had received a sore check. Now, on top of that, this solitary wagon was being manœuvred in a manner which outgeneralled all their schemes, for the parties of diggers making across the plains upon whom the Indians were wont to make attacks fell too easy victims to their craft and cunning as a general rule.
"That aer the end of it," said Tom, turning to see that all was ready. "Flesh and blood can't stand no more of sich knocks, and them critters'll be coming."
The words had hardly left his lips when the whole band of Indians swept their horses round to face the wagon, and, digging their heels into the flanks of the animals, spurred them forward at a mad gallop. What a picture they made too! In more or less close formation, their feathered headdress flying in the breeze, and the trimmings of their overalls and moccasins fluttering, they raced towards the wagon with eyes staring and arms brandished over their heads. A perfect tumult of noise proceeded from their ranks, while they had hardly covered ten yards before their guns spoke out, sending bullets hissing across the space which divided them from the white men.
