The attack was not long delayed. The desperate ruffians collected as close as possible to the barricade, and then made their rush all together. They were met by men as determined and desperate as themselves, and forced back, leaving one fourth of their number dead or wounded in front of the barricade.
“That’s the way Melton’s scouts do it,” cried the voice of the young captain. “Come again, my boys.”
“I hear you,” screamed Garrett, “and we will come again. Now, Napope,” he added, lowering his tone, “we must divide their force. Send ten of your best men to cross the creek and attack them on the right. Send ten more to the left, and try them at the same time. The signal will be three rifle-shots from this point.”
Their movements were not so well shrouded that Melton could not see the danger to be apprehended from a division of his forces, which was rendered necessary by this action on their part. But he only sent three men to each point threatened, one under the lead of Tom Bantry, who had already become quite popular, and the other under Cooney Joe. They darted rapidly across the little open space, while the others loaded their rifles and pistols and calmly waited for the assault.
“Beat them off this time, and the chances are they won’t want any more,” cried Melton. “Shoot a little closer to make up for the lost men, and it will be all right.”
Just then they heard three rifle-shots, and a simultaneous movement was made against the island from three different points. But the foresight of Melton in sending small parties to the threatened points, removed the danger from the two parties of Indians, while his own force was not so weakened but that he could still present a stout front to the foe. The barricade rained bullets upon the advancing enemy entangled in the branches of the trees which formed the intrenchment, and crowded into the narrow space of twenty feet. No men, however hardy, could hope to live long under such a fire, and in spite of the almost superhuman exertions of Garrett, Napope and Na-she-eschuck, they fell back again, and took breath under cover of the woods.
“This is awful,” said Garrett. “The curse of the devil on them, how they do fight. I’ve lost near half my men.”
The small parties under Tom Bantry and Joe had succeeded in keeping their enemies at bay, and as soon as the main body retreated, half a dozen men ran to their aid, and the Indians were quickly swept away from the banks of the creek.
“Good boys,” said Melton. “You could not fight better if you liked the sport. Now, who wants the doctor?”
No one had been badly injured. Two or three had been scraped by passing bullets, but a little sticking-plaster soon set that right, and they were as ready for a fight as ever.