Still there was no lack of bravery amongst the savages, who, some twenty strong, being as many as could act in the narrow gully, charged home again, directly after sending in their arrows, and accompanying the beating of their ponies’ hoofs with yell after yell.
This time there was no waiting on the part of the defenders, who began firing as soon as the advance commenced, with the result that several Indians dropped, to encumber the way and unsettle the serried band of plunging steeds, while the rest, on breasting the rocks, recoiled, and in a state of panic turned, regardless of yells and blows, to gallop back after the fashion of their kind, crowding together till they reached their fellows once again, to stand shivering, snorting, and stamping, but leaving two struggling in the bottom of the gulch in company with six of their riders, wounded or dead.
“That ought to settle them,” said Wilton, who knelt carefully wiping his rifle.
“I hope so,” said Bourne. “I’m tired of this murderous work.”
“’Tis bad, sir,” said Griggs, from the other side; “but it rests with the redskins.”
“Do you think they will give up now, Griggs?” said the doctor.
“No, sir; I don’t,” was the reply.
“Oh, Griggs, you’re making the worst of it,” cried Chris.
“No, my lad, I’m not. It’s of no use for me to talk nonsense. I know too much of Indian nature. All they’re thinking of now is how to get at us, and have revenge for what we have done.”
“Then you think they will attack again?”