As they turned and scattered out along the trail to take such cover as they could find, Buffalo Bill saw, to his chagrin and horror, that the two girls were not with them.
“You were right, Dead Eye!” he said remorsefully, to the old Pawnee. “I ought to have insisted on taking your advice against that of all the others, as I was inclined to do.”
“Ugh!” grunted the Indian. “Take scalps of Shawnees first—then go back and take scalps of others.”
This was obviously the only course now to be adopted. Buffalo Bill gave the word to charge, and the scouts swept up the trail at a gallop, recking nothing of the hot but ill-directed fire of the Shawnees.
The redskins had the advantage of position and numbers, but that was more than counterbalanced by the superior marksmanship of the scouts and the dash with which they made their assault.
Buffalo Bill’s men had the great advantage of being the attackers, and under his fine leadership they took full benefit of it.
Twice the number of Indians could hardly have withstood their furious charge. In a few minutes they were in the midst of the Shawnees, whose cover then availed them nothing.
Several of the braves, their guns having been emptied vainly, tried to get at close quarters and use their deadly tomahawks; but they were shot down before they could do so.
The fight was brief and bloody, but nearly the whole loss was sustained by the Shawnees.
In a few minutes those who had escaped the first onslaught turned to retreat up the trail. The retreat was soon turned to a rout, and the rout into a veritable stampede.