It may as well be explained how it was that the relief which Melville Clarendon expected hours before was so delayed that, but for an unexpected occurrence, it would have arrived too late.
You have learned that Mr. Clarendon and his wife left their home early that morning and hurried northward over the ten miles between them and Barwell.
All went well until they had passed half the distance, when the sudden appearance of three mounted Indians showed that they were not likely to get through without trouble. The settler at once came to a halt and prepared to make the best defence possible. The animals were gathered near the wagon, where Mr. Clarendon made his wife crouch down to escape the flying bullets, and, loaded gun in hand, he waited the attack that was sure to come.
A skilful marksman in the situation of Mr. Clarendon generally considers himself the equal of three mounted men on the open plain, and the conduct of the warriors showed that they held the settler in respect. Keeping beyond easy range, they circled about the wagon and its inmates as if looking for an opening, and finally all three brought their guns to their shoulders and let fly.
The volley killed one of the horses, which dropped dead as he stood near the wagon.
The settler instantly returned the shot, and—rather curiously—though the distance was considerable, he brought down the pony of the nearest Indian, which made such a frenzied leap that his rider was thrown. Mr. Clarendon at first thought it was he who had been struck; but he quickly sprang to his feet and vaulted upon another pony behind one of his comrades.
The Sioux continued circling around the settler at a still greater distance, and sent in another volley, which did no harm. At last they concluded the risk of a charge and attack too great, and drew off, finally disappearing in the distance.
"He brought down the pony of the nearest Indian."
Mr. Clarendon waited an hour or more, expecting them to return, but they did not, and he resumed his journey to the settlement.