Captain Bayley's Heir: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California

by G. A. Henty

Almost all the men had been across with the teams when the guns were fired, but the remainder had run back to aid in the defence of the waggons on the other side. These were already in a position of defence, having been so arranged before the crossing began. So well had Abe's orders been carried out, that no confusion whatever had occurred. At the sound of the guns the women had climbed, and helped the children, into the waggons allotted to them, and the men, on arriving, quietly took up their positions.

The Indians were not visible until they reached a spot about three hundred yards from the waggons. As they dashed up the rise they checked their horses. Instead of seeing, as they had expected, everything in confusion and dismay, not a soul was visible, and the clumps of waggons stood, one on either side, ranged as for defence. However, after waiting for three days for their prey, they were not to be balked. Their wild war-cry rose in the air, and the two bodies of horsemen charged down on the travellers.

In an instant a deadly fire broke out, the men kneeling in the bottom of the waggons and resting their rifles on the rail, the tilt being raised a few inches to enable them to see under it. Every shot told among the mass of horsemen. The emigrants were all new to Indian warfare, but most of them were farmers accustomed from boyhood to the use of the rifle, and the coolness of the hunters, and their preparation for attack, steadied them, and gave them confidence. Several of the Indians fell at the first discharge, but the advance was not checked, and at full speed they came on.

"Steady, lads; don't throw away a shot," Abe shouted, as the men loaded and discharged their rifles as quickly as possible; "see that every bullet tells."

Already the Indians were checking the speed of their horses, for the position was a most difficult one to attack. It could not be surrounded, and, indeed, could only be attacked on the face of the outside waggons, from which a stream of fire was pouring. As the leaders came on Frank and the two hunters, who both, like himself, carried revolvers, laid aside their rifles and brought these deadly weapons into action, resting them on the rail to secure an accurate fire. The quick, sharp cracks of these, followed in almost every case by the fall of one of the horsemen in front, completed the dismay of the Indians. Quick as thought, those who had fallen were lifted across the horses of their comrades, and the whole band, turning, galloped away at full speed, pursued, as long as they were in sight, by the rifle-balls of the defenders of the waggons.

"So much for them," Abe said, as he leapt to the ground. "Now let us give a hand to our comrades."

The fight was still raging on the other side. The number of waggons was larger, and the facilities for defence less. The waggons were surrounded by a throng of Indians, who were cutting at them with their tomahawks, discharging their rifles into the tilts, and some, having thrown themselves from their horses, were endeavouring to climb up. The defenders were still fighting desperately. They had no longer time to load, but with hatchets and clubbed rifles beat down the Indians who tried to climb the waggons. A few minutes, however, would have ended the resistance had not help been at hand.

From the opposite side of the gulch eleven men poured the contents of their rifles among the Indians. One of the leading chiefs and four of his followers fell dead, and almost before the Indians had recovered from their surprise a dropping fire was opened, almost every shot taking effect. A cheer broke from the defenders of the waggons, and they fought with renewed hope, while the Indians, startled by this unlooked-for attack, and by the repulse of their comrades, began to lose heart.

Only for a few minutes longer did they continue the attack. The deadly flank fire proved too much for their courage, and soon they too were in full flight, carrying off with them their killed and wounded. A shout of triumph rose from the two parties of whites, and a scene of wild delight took place; the women, now that the excitement was over, cried and laughed alternately in hysterical joy; the children shouted, while the men grasped each other's hands in fervent congratulation.

"We all owe our lives to you and your comrades," John Little said to Abe. "If it had not been for you we should all have gone under; and, I tell you, if ever we get across these plains we will find some way to show our gratitude. As long as John Little has a crust in the world he will share it with you."