This redskin had a wound in his left arm, but he still clung to the hilt of the knife.
Dell saw him coming, covering the ground with great leaps. If he ever reached the horses, the girl knew that he would make way with one, or both, of them—and this was something that must not be allowed to happen.
Fearlessly the girl sprang out from behind her boulder and planted herself between the Apache and the horses.
Undaunted by the sight, the savage kept on, flourishing his knife and yelling furiously.
“Shoot!” cried Buffalo Bill.
He feared to let loose a bullet himself, for he, and the Indian, and the girl, were in a direct line with each other. Had he fired, and had the redskin dodged at the exact moment, the bullet might have struck Dell.
But there was no need for the scout to use his weapons.
Hardly had the command to fire left his lips when the gulch took up the echoes of the girl’s revolver.
The Apache was caught in the air; and when he fell, he came down sprawling—wounded a second time, and harmless to do the girl any injury.