CHAPTER XVIII.
As the medicine chief threw off his robes, and straightening up, rifle in hand, sought to find his victim, Kit Carey recognized who he was.
It was Red Hatchet, as he had half-suspected, when the wild chant of the medicine chief urged the bands to strike at the soldiers, whose bullets in return would take no effect upon them if they struck into brave hearts.
But his long stooping posture had unsteadied the nerves of Red Hatchet, and his bullet, though well aimed, simply cut a button from over the heart of Kit Carey.
That first shot was the signal that brought a volley, for concealed beneath their blankets the warriors had their rifles and revolvers, and full upon the surprised soldiers poured a terrible, death-dealing volley.
Brave men fell dead and dying ere they could draw a weapon, while with one terrific war-cry the Indians made a rush for their tepees.
Then began a battle the like of which was never seen before.
It was a battle of desperation upon the one side, of indignation and revenge upon the other.
The soldiers rallied quickly for the fight, and began to move down upon the tepees, for there were the gallant Wallace, Lieutenant Carey, and the detail of soldiers sent to search the camp.