Indians fell in heaps before that volley. A panic resulted and the next moment through the smoke Pomp saw the gleam of uniforms, and knew that a body of United States cavalry had happened upon the spot just in the nick of time.
The darky was beside himself with the realization.
He tried to break his bonds, and cried:
“Sabe me, sogers—sabe Pomp! He am gwine fo’ suah to burn to death ef yo’ don’ sabe him!”
But the call was not necessary.
Through the smoke sprang two dismounted soldiers. In a twinkling the burning brush was kicked aside, and Pomp’s bonds were cut.
Then the darky was face to face with a tall, handsome young officer.
The Indians had been dispersed and the fight was over.
“I am Col. Clark, of the United States Seventh Cavalry,” said the young officer. “Who are you?”
“I am Pomp!” was the darky’s prompt reply.