Then he made the rounds of the other vehicles, and a blood-chilling discovery awaited him. Out of the five defenders besides himself, only one, Egbert Rodman, remained alive, the other four having been struck and killed by the balls of the Comanches!
“What is the use?” said the stunned officer as he took the hand of the young man and helped him out upon the green sward; “we two are the only ones left, and I have fired my last round of ammunition, even to my pistols.”
“So have I,” returned Egbert; “we may as well go to the women and die defending them. The last moment is at hand.”
“It is here!” said Captain Shields, in a clear voice. “Look! there they come!”
As he spoke, he pointed up the sides of the gulch, where, in the dim light of the early night, the horsemen were seen gathering for the final charge. The next moment it came!
CHAPTER XV. THE RESCUE.
The next moment a strange, wild yell broke the stillness, or rather sounded above the thunder of the horses’ hoofs, and the two men, standing sullenly by the wagon in the center of the encampment, and awaiting their doom, like those who, having done all that was possible, could now do nothing else.
Again that indescribable yell rung out over the prairie, and Captain Shields straightened himself like a flash, and gave a gasp of amazement if not terror.
“Did you hear that, Egbert?” he demanded, clutching the arm of the half-stupefied man at his side. “By heavens! they are not Indians, but Lightning Jo and his men from Fort Adams!”