They want us to fight hand to hand. That's what Indians do to show their courage.
The hell with that.
With a movement that seemed almost contemptuous, the big Indian dropped the rifle to the ground. He reached down and picked up a war club painted red and black, with a huge spike at its end.
"Let's pay 'em back, boys!" Raoul shouted. "For all of our people they killed."
"Oui! For Marchette," said Armand, raising his rifle. His first shot caught a warrior in the chest and knocked him down.
At that the Indians rushed Raoul and his men.
Raoul felt himself trembling uncontrollably as the bony giant in the center came straight at him. The big Indian held his war club in front of him, as if to deflect bullets.
Forcing his arms to hold steady, Raoul aimed his rifle at the Indian's head and fired.
And missed.
I should have aimed at his chest.