Barlow and the girl were hardly beyond the line of the lodges, when a wild chorus of charging yells and cheers broke on the air.
Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill, with Ben Stevens, were out there, and with them was a body of troopers from Fort Cimarron. The scouts had found Stevens, and then had encountered the pursuing troopers, who, under the leadership of the scouts, had been able to make so stealthy an advance that this charge on the Cheyennes was a complete surprise.
Barlow seized May Arlington by the wrist, and started to run with her.
“Halt!” was the command, for the troopers had seen him. The light was not good, and so they thought he was an Indian, who was running to get out of the village, taking, perhaps, the white girl prisoner who was known to be there.
Barlow disregarded the command to halt, and ran to get his horse, dragging the girl with him. She began to scream, and to try to release herself, but Barlow clung to her, and to his stolen nuggets.
Another command was bellowed at him, but he still disregarded it.
There was a flash of fire and the report of a rifle. The man giving the command to halt had fired.
Barlow fell, pitching forward on his face.
The attack swept through the Cheyenne village like a whirlwind.
The Indians who sought to fight were pistoled. Where they made no resistance they were unharmed, and where they surrendered they were merely made prisoners.