“Men, we’ll empty these extra guns at them first, for they’ll reach them, and then you fire only when I give the order,” cried the sergeant.
The three guns rattled forth their seven shots each, and they must have hit hard, for the redskins wavered, yelled like demons, and came on with a rush.
“Fire!”
All the rifles opened fire, and the shots told, for ponies fell and riders dropped to the ground.
But the rush was on, the Indians were in heavy force, hundreds against a score of black troopers, and the showers of arrows, the maddened yells and the roar of the charging ponies, struck terror to the hearts of the troopers.
“Hold ’em, men, or all is lost,” shouted the sergeant, adding:
“Revolvers now!”
But as the rattle of revolvers began and the redskins were almost up to the retreat, above the wild yells of the redskins arose the piercing, thrilling notes of a bugle, followed by the ringing war cry of Buffalo Bill, and a stern command from Captain Keyes:
“Ride them down, men!”