One of the gentler sex had climbed to the platform over the gate, and this was her prayer.
Other women had dropped to their knees, and were fervently praying God to spare the splendid fellow who was daring the gantlet of death. A cheer rose from the soldiery. This unknown was showing them the way that they had not dared to go.
“That packhorse is wounded. Why doesn’t he leave it?” cried one of the officers. “It is delaying him—can’t the fellow see it?”
At that moment the commander shouted:
“Captain Keyes, take your troop to the rescue of that brave fellow!”
“With pleasure, sir! I was about to ask your permission to do just that,” declared the junior officer.
The bugle sounded, but its notes were drowned in a sudden wild shout of joy that rose from the two hundred inmates of the fort. Another officer, with a field-glass at his eye, had suddenly turned and shouted:
“It is Buffalo Bill, the Border King!”