“Some says dere is hundreds of ’em, but I ain’t seen dat many yit, though I has seen more’n I wants ter,” was the reply.
“There were about fifty that ambushed Buck, maybe more, and perhaps as many yonder, so we are cut off, I fear.”
“Did dey kill po’ Brick?” asked the corporal.
“I guess they did, for they are Injuns.”
“An’ scallip him, too?”
“I don’t know, for that wasn’t easy, as his hair was cut close.”
“So hit was, but mine ain’t,” and the corporal felt of his hair, which he feared was long enough to get a grip on.
The sergeant smiled, then took in the chances of defending the hill, being glad to see that the corporal had put the horses in as secure a place as could be found and posted his men in fighting positions.
The corporal might be scared, but his military training stood him in need.
“Grass, but no water here; yet we can hold ’em off for a while, for some man has got to slip out to-night and go back to the fort for help,” said the sergeant.