“Can you get on my back, sir? he said hurriedly. Quick; the redskins’ll be on us in another minute. Here, give me a hold of your pistol; I must leave my rifle unless you can carry it for me.”
But the officer had scarcely strength enough to enable him to stand. With difficulty Munson hauled him upright against the tree-trunk, snatched up the pistol in case he should need it on the perilous little journey which he was undertaking, and, hoisting Boyd on his back, darted among the trees out of sight of the approaching Indians. On every side of him shooting seemed to be going on; an arrow fell at his very feet, and the next moment a stray musket-ball flattened itself against the tree which he was passing. What he could not understand was that, the nearer he came with his burden to the camp, the louder and more frequent did the firing sound. Had his mates already driven the enemy into the open?
A few steps more and he would be out of the wood. But what was all this prancing and stamping? The horses could hardly have broken loose, for, since his recent losses, Lowry had had them tethered in batches whenever a halt of any length was made. The firing grew louder and faster than ever, and all doubt in his mind was ended when he heard the lieutenant’s voice ordering the men to charge.
While the two bodies of Indians worked such fearful havoc among the patrols, a third and stronger 21 party—fifty in number, and many of them mounted—had worked round to the open and were attacking the remainder of the company with tomahawks and spears. The horses, many of them already liberated by the savages, were plunging and screaming. Lowry, who had leapt on to the back of one of them, was cutting right and left with his sword at the mounted Indians, while his men, though they fought furiously, were retreating rather than charging, for these Cherokee redskins, unlike the timid, treacherous bullies of the southern and western tribes, knew no such thing as fear; moreover, in addition to their unquestioned bravery, they often displayed, in their warfare, an amount of forethought and method that would not have discredited a white regiment.
Naturally, Munson’s first care was to get rid of his burden; and he resolutely turned his back on the fighting and made for the little tent that had been hastily rigged up for the two officers when the company halted. Depositing the wounded man here, he snatched up a rifle and hurried breathlessly back to take part in the fray, which was but a small part, for, all in a moment, a spear, thrown with terrific force, struck him in the shoulder and he dropped to the ground, striking his head on a boulder so violently that he lost consciousness.
When he recovered himself, some Indians were bending over him, and one of them asked him, by signs, if he could stand. He contrived to stagger to his feet; then, finding that his water-flask was still at his belt, took a long drink from it, for his lips and throat seemed as dry as the back of his hand.
“Well done, sergeant; bravo!” said someone behind him; and other voices echoed the sentiment. He turned his head dazedly, and gave a start of astonishment. Under a tree near him stood ten men of his company, some of them with heads or limbs roughly bandaged.
“What’s up? he asked. What’s happened, anyhow?”
One of the Indians here took him by the arm, led him over to the tree, and signified that he must take his stand with the rest; and now he could see that those of his comrades who were not wounded had their hands bound, and that every man had a lasso-like thong tied about his waist, the other end of which at present trailed loosely on the ground.