Directing the officers what course to take, Buffalo Bill saw them start off at full speed while he remained quietly seated upon his splendid horse Brigham, a steed that equaled Sable Satan for speed and endurance.
It was evident that the red-skins were surprised at beholding a single horseman standing so calmly in their path, and awaiting their coming, and the party in flight looked back in great alarm as they saw that Buffalo Bill did not move, appearing like a bronze statue of horse and rider.
"What could it mean?"
"Was he mad?"
And many more were the comments made by the party, while the Indians were equally as inquisitive upon the subject.
Nearer and nearer came the rushing band, for what had two hundred mounted warriors to fear from one man?
Nearer and nearer, until presently Buffalo Bill was seen to raise his rifle, and a perfect stream of fire seemed to flow out of the muzzle, while the shots came in rapid succession.
It was a Winchester repeating rifle, and Buffalo Bill had been testing it thoroughly.
And the result was such that the Indians drew rein, for down in the dust had gone several of their number, while half a dozen ponies had been killed by the shots; in fact, fired into the crowded mass of men and horses, nearly every discharge had done harm.
With a wild, defiant war-cry, Buffalo Bill wheeled and rode away, loading his matchless rifle as he ran.