Every movement had been so rapid since going down the path into the ravine after the buffalo, until he emerged in safety on the plain, that he had not reflected a moment. He had done better; he had acted.
There now appeared five Indians, all mounted, and not more than two hundred and fifty yards from where he stood. He instantly formed his plan. His arms consisted of his revolver, and a double-barrelled English fowling-piece, one barrel loaded with ball, and the other with buckshot. He unstrapped his gun, kept himself on the farther side of the horse from the Indians, and as they seemed to be approaching him, he made his arrangements. He concluded to wait until they arrived within about a hundred and fifty yards, and then fire with his ball, and if possible, kill the foremost. The other barrel with the buckshot would then be "good" for two more, when he would have five loaded barrels of his "Colt," with only two foes. But the cowardly villains dared not attack him. Four of them retreated, and the other rode a little nearer to reconnoitre.
The Indian, believing he knew the character of his foe as that of an old hunter, was sure he was armed with one or more "six-shooters." He communicated his thoughts to his red-skinned brethren, by riding several times rapidly round in a circle, this being the sign given by the Arrapahoes when they meet white men armed with "revolvers."
Being satisfied with this view of their foe, and the taste they had had of his prowess, they turned their horses and disappeared down the ravine.
Danger was not yet over, and our friend was determined to be ready for whatever might happen. He rode slowly away for fifty or a hundred yards, and stopped. Thinking he had better have his arms in as good condition as possible, he dismounted and thought he would load the discharged barrel of his pistol. On looking, this trusty weapon was missing. The holster was entirely torn away, and the pistol gone. He went back where he had waited for the Indians, and there lay the pistol on the ground.
In his violent effort to put up the weapon and stop the horse while one arm was totally disabled, he had evidently thrust it in the holster so violently as to tear the leather away, and the weapon unperceived had fallen to the ground.
Having loaded the empty barrel, he again mounted. The sun by this time was just setting. The Indians and the long dark ravine lay between him and the camp, and he took a circuitous route to meet the train.