[One brawny savage had reached the spot where Donogh was lying.]
Another fell dead near the fire, and we saw two more stagger ’neath our bullets. This unexpected reception checked the ardour of the attack, and drove back our assailants.
We took advantage of their repulse to drag our stricken comrades from the light.
Alas! one had already passed from the light of life to the darkness of death. The Cree had ceased to breathe, but Donogh was still alive.
When we had breathing time to think of other matters than our lives, Red Cloud sent the Iroquois and the scout to drive the horses to a place of safety.
“We have given these Sircies something to occupy them,” he said; “but after a while they may try to get our horses, since they have failed to take all our lives.”
Soon the fire burned itself out, and the darkness of the short summer’s night lay around.
Yet how long it seemed to me, as sitting by poor Donogh’s side, and with his hand fast in mine, I waited for the dawn. He was quite conscious, but every now and again a stifled moan broke from his lips, and as the night wore on I felt the hand growing cold and clammy. When daylight came I saw that the poor boy’s end was near.
The shot had struck him in the chest, and his life-blood was ebbing fast.
I could not trust myself to speak. I could only hold his hand in mine, and try to stanch the red stream from his death-wound.