At this moment a man on a gray horse dashed madly past him. Robert recognized the rider as Colonel Jones, one of the officers. As he glanced up at the fearless rider a bullet struck the horse, killing it instantly. Colonel Jones was pitched headlong to the ground and Robert rushed to see if he was hurt.
“Were you hit, Colonel?” he demanded anxiously.
“Never touched me,” came the quick reply, and instantly jumping to his feet the gallant officer continued the advance. “Follow me!” he shouted, and with a cheer the men closed in behind him.
Absolutely regardless of consequences, fearlessly the men charged. The grass which the Indians occupied was at least six feet tall, a fact which rendered it very difficult for the Whites to see their opponents. Not one man faltered, however.
Soon they came to the edge of the grass and a desperate hand to hand encounter took place. Stabbing with their bayonets and using the butt ends of their guns the white soldiers slowly but surely forced their redskinned foes to fall back. Every inch of ground was contested stubbornly and desperately. The men became separated from one another and individual combats took place everywhere.
Robert had forced his way clear through to the opposite side of the high grass and emerged into the open. As he came out he saw a white man suddenly trip and fall headlong to the ground. With a howl of rage a painted warrior sprang at the fallen soldier with upraised tomahawk.
Robert’s heart almost stopped beating when he suddenly recognized the prostrate man as his brother Joseph.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE TRAIL LEADS WESTWARD
There was not a second to lose. The Indian would surely be upon Joseph before he could raise himself from his fallen position and even should he be able to get up he would stand no chance of escape. If Joseph’s life was to be saved, it was Robert who must do it. But how was it to be done? He had fired the charge which had been in his gun and he had had no chance to reload. The bloodthirsty Sac was nearer to Joseph than he, and would evidently reach the spot first. The case looked desperate.
All of this happened in the twinkling of an eye. Robert rather felt than thought these things as he saw the Indian rushing toward his helpless brother. “The only relative I have left in the world,” thought Robert as, with a choking cry, he started forward. Glory was forgotten. Bravery was forgotten. The impulsive young pioneer remembered only that his brother was in terrible and immediate danger.