Their presence there meant death to them unless rescue came quickly.
The squaws, maddened by the firing, drew weapons they had hidden about them, and fought like demons.
Half-grown boys and girls, enveloped in blankets, and looking like braves, dashed about upon their ponies, dealing death wherever they could strike a blow.
It was a wild, weird scene, an Inferno while it lasted.
Brought to bay among the tepees, Captain Wallace felt that he was to die, but he intended to fall with his face to the foe, as a brave soldier should.
An Indian warrior rushed upon him, firing as he came.
Wounded, though he was, the brave Wallace avenged himself then and there.
Two other braves bounded toward him, and a sharp hand-to-hand fight followed.
They, too, fell dead, though the gallant soldier staggered from the wounds he had received, and seemed about to fall.