A single shot followed. Feeling confident that some one of his comrades had left camp and met with a band of Indians, Red Hand ran hastily forward, and turning a bend in the gulch, beheld a sight that for the moment deprived him of action, so great was his surprise.
Upon a ledge of rock, and partially protected by a huge bowlder, stood a young girl, scarcely more than sixteen years of age. A suit of buckskin, with dressed skirt, and leggings elaborately embroidered, set off her figure, and a soft hat surmounted her head, and half hid braids of golden hair that were in lovely contrast to her large black eyes and dark lashes and eyebrows.
The face was browned almost to the hue of an Indian’s, yet the pure blood of the white shone in every feature of her beautiful and daring face. Though in deadly danger, the girl stood her ground with fearless determination, her small rifle, evidently just discharged, clubbed in both hands to beat back three painted Sioux warriors who were rapidly bounding up the steep hillside to the ledge where she stood.
Two more Indians lay farther down the slope, one motionless in death, the other writhing in agony, for a stream of blood poured from a wound in his side. That the girl had been surprised by the Indians and had sought the ledge for safety, was evident, and that her rifle had dropped two of her enemies was also evident, while her powder flask and shot pouch, attached to her belt, and lying halfway up the slope, proved that she had lost her means of further defense.
This fact the three remaining warriors knew, and with wild yells they bounded on up the steep ascent, while their pale but daring girl foe stood her ground with clubbed rifle to meet them. Such was the sight that greeted the eyes of Red Hand, and his surprise for a moment kept him motionless.
Another bound of the leading warrior carried him almost within reach of the clubbed rifle, and the uplifted tomahawk showed that the girl would be killed unless Red Hand acted quickly.
And Red Hand did act quickly. His rifle butt touched his shoulder, his red forefinger tripped the trigger, the splendid weapon hurled forth its deadly pill, and the Sioux sank dead at the feet of the girl he would have slain.
Before the startled comrades of the fallen brave could fly, there followed two more quick reports from Red Hand’s rifle, and the two dropped dead in their tracks. In utter surprise, and with astonishment upon every feature of her face, the rescued girl rapidly descended the slope, picking up her belt as she came, and stood before Red Hand, her manner that of commingled timidity and fearlessness, while in a voice strangely melodious she said:
“I thought the paleface hunters did not dare come into this unknown land of the Indian.”
“Yet I find here a young girl, and one who it seems can take care of herself,” and Red Hand pointed to the dead and wounded Sioux that had fallen by the girl’s rifle.