They came at last almost within sight of Fort Advance. A low ridge shut out their view of the valley. Suddenly the cool morning breeze brought to them a great shouting and hullabaloo, intermingled with rifle-shots and the intermittent discharge of heavy guns.
“An attack!” exclaimed the captain and the scout together, and they spurred their horses to the top of the ridge.
It was true. Oak Heart had chosen the hour before dawn as the time to throw his remaining warriors against the stockade. He believed that about this time the rescue-party would be falling into the trap he had laid for it in the cañon. He would keep both bands of white men so busy that they could not go to each other’s rescue.
Suddenly the heavy guns ceased. There was only the occasional snapping of rifles from the fort.
“My God, Cody! What does that mean?” gasped Captain Taylor.
“Their ammunition has run out!” cried the scout. “I adjure you, captain, bring up your men at a double-quick. The next few minutes may settle the question as to whether those red devils get the scalps of every man, woman, and child in the fort! There is not an instant to lose, sir!”
CHAPTER XII.
A FLYING FIGHT.
Captain Taylor saw the desperate need of help for the unfortunate inmates of Fort Advance quite as clearly as did Buffalo Bill, but his men were in heavy marching order, and there were the artillery and ambulances to be thought of, too. The column was strung out along the trail for two miles.
“It will take some time to bring the men up and form in line of battle, Cody,” declared Captain Taylor.