Just as the Sioux’s horse had completed his wheel, the trader fired a snap-shot, his gun held straight at the full stretch of his right arm. The range was under one hundred yards, but the rapid motion of his own horse made the shot a difficult one, and I shouted with joy when I saw that neither man nor horse was harmed.
Still the odds were terribly against the Sioux. He had neither gun, nor bow, nor knife, while his opponent was fully armed. More in the hope of distracting McDermott’s attention and confusing his aim, than with any expectation of hitting him at the distance I was still away, I now fired two shots at him as he stood out clear from the Sioux, whose wheel had placed him well to one side. Both shots missed their object, but I saw that he turned a quick glance in my direction just as the Sioux came thundering across the short space that still lay between them.
The career which McDermott had long followed made him an expert in all the exercises of wild life on the prairies. He could pull a cool trigger amid the fierce stampede of buffalo, and take a sure aim in battle or in the chase. He would have wagered the best horse in his possession that an unarmed enemy charging him on the open prairie, if such a man were found mad enough to attempt the venture, would have been a dead man within twenty paces of his standpoint; and even now, although coward conscience trembled in his heart as he faced his enemy, his levelled gun was pressed firmly to his shoulder, and held steady in the bridle-hand, while his horse stood true to the teaching of Indian tactics, the obedient servant and trained auxiliary of its rider.
I saw the Sioux low bent upon his horse; I saw the smoke flash forth from the trader’s gun; and then for an instant all was confusion. With a wild convulsive leap forward, the Indian’s horse fell, crashing almost at the feet of the trader’s steed; and then—so quick was the upward spring that I could mark no interval of time—the red man’s grasp was round his enemy, and the game of life or death was at last being played on even terms.
I reached the spot at the final moment. The Sioux, with one knee firmly planted against the trader’s saddle, had clasped both arms around his enemy, wrenching him by a mighty effort from his horse. In the struggle McDermott had flung aside his empty gun in order to better grapple with his assailant; so the fight was now without weapons. Both men rose from the ground still locked in a fierce embrace. For a moment it seemed that the heavier frame and greater bulk of the white man must prevail over the lither figure of the Indian. Once or twice the trader lifted his assailant almost off his feet; but the marvellous agility of the Sioux again gave him the advantage, and after a long and desperate rally the white man was borne backward and forced upon his knees.
So far not a word had escaped the two men; they had fought in grim silence. But now when victory seemed about to declare itself for the Sioux, a savage laugh broke from the trader, and with a mighty effort he locked his arms around the Indian, intent only upon holding him in his grasp. Well might he think the game was still his own. A low ridge three hundred yards to the south, suddenly darkened with galloping horsemen and with loud war-cries of triumph, a dozen Sircies came sweeping down upon us. One chance yet remained to us. I pushed my horse close to the struggling men, and with my gun held by the barrel, [I struck the iron butt heavily down upon the trader’s head]. The strong tension of his grasp relaxed, and he sank, apparently lifeless, to the ground.
[I struck the iron butt heavily down upon the trader’s head.]
But so intent was the Sioux upon his enemy that he resented my interference, and glared at me for a moment; then I saw him seeking for a weapon, heedless of the approaching danger, now so close upon us.