As the headlights of the two wonderful prairie travelers flashed upon them, they tried to turn tail and run away to the spot where their horses stood.
Then the voice of the tall guide rang out in thunder tones:
“After them! Cut them down without a bit of mercy! Wipe the scoundrels from the face of the earth!”
“Hurrah!” yelled the emigrants; and over the wagons they clambered and dashed after the flying foe.
With a mighty rush the two monsters, the man and the horse charged down upon the demoralized horde, trampling them under foot.
The iron hoofs, sharp spiked, of the Steam Horse created terrible havoc, and the man fairly walked over the redskins with his gigantic strides.
Right and left the avenging emigrants struck.
Crack! crack! went the weapons of the men in the wagons, and Indian after Indian fell lifeless to the plain.
The half-breed turned to fight, nerved to desperation; but Pomp shot him fairly through the heart, and without a sound he fell dead.
Steadily onward went the slaughter, man after man being cut down without any mercy, until but one was left, the arch-villain, James Van Dorn.