“Crack!” went the rifle, and one savage pitched from the saddle. The settler did not move and the riders came on, broken up somewhat by the dodging, riderless horse.
“Crack!” a horse and rider plunged into the grass.
“Crack!” another riderless horse, and then the red men wheeled and galloped the other way, to get beyond the range of that unwavering repeater.
But a fourth was lifted from the saddle before they were beyond range.
There the Indians paused to hold council. It had been a costly exploit for them. One brave was undoubtedly dead and so was a pony. Two red men who had been wounded were crawling away in the grass, and the one who rode the dead pony was evidently seriously hurt, for he lay quite still.
The settler stalked calmly back and forth in front of his little castle, and the wife now made her appearance in the doorway with children clinging to her. She passed her husband another rifle, and took the one he had to replenish the magazine.
Buffalo Bill admired the fortitude of these hardy frontier folk, but he told the boy that in the darkness when the settler could not see to make shots count, the Indians would charge on the little cabin, murder all the inmates, and drive off the stock. That was all the red men were waiting for now, the cover of darkness.
That the settler and his wife realized it was seen by the actions of the woman, who began carrying water into the cabin from the river and apparently storing it in barrels and tubs. She also labored unceasingly with heavy blocks of wood, which probably were to be used as a barricade. And lastly, she carried pailful after pailful of water to the thatched roof and soaked it down thoroughly.
The Indians watched the labors of the “white squaw,” and now and then sent forth derisive yells, but they kept well beyond reach of the rifle in the hands of the man who so calmly faced them. They knew, also, that the settler was well armed, for the woman now brought out several rifles and leaned them against the cabin in silent proclamation of their readiness for battle.
As the shadows lengthened in the little valley the woman once more gave the roof of the shanty a generous wetting down, removed everything movable to the interior, and the settler retired to the doorstep with a barricade of logs in front of him.