Red Indian Attack on a Store
The Indians swooped down on the place with guns, tomahawks, and lighted torches. Those within rushed to the door, only to be shot down immediately by a crowd of wild redskins outside.
“They’re laying up for us, by gum!” said one man, starting off at a gallop.
Savage leapt from the waggon and on to a spare horse, and, leaving his mother to the care of two or three men who were riding inside, he started with the rest for the store. “We’ve got them this time,” he shouted triumphantly.
About seventy redskins, most of them on horseback, and the rest with their horses tethered close at hand, were firing on the house, though from a tolerably safe distance; for the undaunted miners within had a good supply of ammunition, whereas the Snakes had to use theirs sparingly. Already a good many Indians lay dead or wounded, and, at the sound made by the new arrivals, the rest either turned to bay or fled.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Jerez,” shouted Savage as he charged at the chief and fired off his pistol in his face.
Seeing their leader down, the Indians hesitated, though some of the bolder of them rode straight for the store, now that it was no longer safe for the men inside to continue their fire. But the ensuing battle was only a very short one. However brave the Indians might be at shooting from cover, or making war on women, they were powerless in open field against the burly miners, who cared nothing for their howls and their hatchets, and who, in many cases, having exhausted their ammunition, tore the savages screaming from their saddles and flung them senseless on the hard-frozen road.
“Look what the oseberds be at, Savage!” roared a huge Devonshireman, spurring his horse furiously in pursuit of a small batch of Indians who were galloping for the hills.