In the grove the trappers concealed themselves, and the wisdom of their move was quite clear. The Indians realized that they would all be shot down if they remained in their present position, for the men behind the brow of the hill now had their range. Six of them made a dash for the cluster of trees.
When the scurrying red men were within one hundred yards of the timber, Williams gave orders to shoot. The trappers took careful aim, and, at the flash of their rifles, three of the red men fell face down. The other three gave a yell of despair and ran up the hill. The trappers dashed after them, and the Indians became panic-stricken when they saw the mounted white men debouch from the thick woodland.
Williams raced onward, dashed right at the Indians, and, although shot at, managed to bring both of the redskins to the ground. Now all three had been slain, and the revenge which the trappers had wished for had been fully satisfied. The redskins were Blackfeet, the most thieving class of wild riders of the plains.
There were still five Indians in the willows. Many men would have let them go. But not so with Williams. He was considered the hardest man on the plains to down in a fight with the Indians, for he was never known to quit when once started. It was to be a battle to the bitter end.
“There are five Indians down there who shot at and insulted us,” said he. “They shall have what they would have given us had they been successful in their attack.” Here he turned to young Hamilton. “Boy,” said he, “never let an Indian escape who has once attacked you! I want you to go with me. We will walk to the gulch and approach from below.”
But the trappers held their leader in too high estimation to allow him to thus recklessly expose himself.
“Your orders are going to be disobeyed for once in your life,” said they. “We cannot afford to lose you.”
Williams smiled.
“Evans and I will undertake the job,” cried scout Russell. “You cover us with your fire.”
In a second—and before Williams could answer—they bounded into the gulch below. Both were quick of foot and had been in so many desperate battles that they understood the danger of approaching prostrate redskins; for a wounded Indian is an uncertain animal.