The other two women leaped to the ground, as did Wilson, who secured the bundle of provisions, half-unconsciously. And this move was completed none too soon, for the next moment the yelling savages sprung into view through the pass, brandishing their weapons like mad.
"Now—gi' them your rifles, an' then fall back to the bresh yander. Ef they foller, let 'em hev your 'volvers," cried Tobe Castor, as his long, heavy rifle uprose to a level.
The Indians paused abruptly, uttering cries of wondering dismay. Why this bold stand upon the part of the fugitives, and where were the women who had so lately been with them? Could they still be fleeing upon the horses, whose rapidly-retreating hoof-strokes could still be distinguished?
"Now!" hissed Castor, and the three rifles spoke.
Two of the enemy went down without a struggle; a third reeled back with an arm swinging helplessly at his side. But neither of them was the renegade; he had not yet put in an appearance.
"Now drap back to the bresh, boys," and Tobe coolly retreated.
Just then Dusky Dick sprung into view, and with a wild yell, urged his men on. As the borderers fell back, the Sioux dashed ahead, discharging a few arrows; their firearms had all been long since emptied.
"Gi' them some more," coolly muttered Tobe, as he drew a heavy revolver, "Colt's Army," carrying a half-ounce ball with the range and force of a rifle.
And now quick and vicious the reports ring out from the three men standing there at bay. Chamber after chamber was discharged with fair effect.
It was not in Indian nature to stand this long, more especially as they had not the means of returning the compliment. Dusky Dick was one of the first to fall, and then, missing his voice, his men retreated to the entrance of the gap, concealing themselves as best they could behind the numerous bowlders that there skirted the prairie.