"As I looked, the wounded man went down, and, casting aside their empty weapons, Reynolds and Sammy drew their sabres and stood between the kneeling woman and the two score of yelping beasts. A moment later Reynolds toppled backward from a murderous thrust in the side and a blow from a war club upon the head, delivered simultaneously, and Sammy was alone, confronting that swarm of naked cut-throats. A half-dozen of my men now came running up the trail, and in an instant their Springfields were roaring as they pressed forward, shooting, and shouting encouragement to the boy.
"And then, startlingly clear and vibrant, above the din of the yelling savages, above the shouts of the men and the banging of the Springfields, rose in a foreign tongue a strange, weird chant, full and sonorous as a trumpet-call. It was the battle song of the Samurai,—Sammy's answering challenge—the war-cry of his fathers. About him shimmered and hissed that impenetrable circle of steel, and though they hacked and stabbed in frantic haste, not once did a hostile thrust reach beyond that matchless guard. Like a thing of light, the shining weapon darted here and there, claiming with each touch its tithe of blood.
"The leader of the redskins, a hideously painted buck, seeing the rescuers near at hand, made a sudden feint and, dropping upon one knee, attempted to stab the boy through the abdomen. It was his last stroke, for as Sammy sprang back his blade whirled downward, the savage hand dropped to the earth, lopped clean at the wrist as with an axe, and the next instant a life went out through an ugly gash in the dusky throat. Louder rose that rhythmic chant, while ever, like some thin flame, the slender blade played swiftly about the swordsman.
"Reynolds struggled to rise, but was too badly hurt, and sank beside the prostrate trooper. Never pausing in his song, Sammy stepped in front of his fallen friend, and as the steel told on its fateful tale, high up above the din of strife the sonorous words rang out:
"'Heed me, oh mighty ones, my fathers of the past! The spirit lives within thy son! See! the arm is strong, the hand is sure, and with each stroke the life wine flows! To the sacred annals of our house I add another deed. Hail to ye, oh mighty dead! Hail! heroes of Yamato's line!'
"Swiftly and more deadly flamed that gleaming brand, as Sammy, seemingly endowed with more than human strength, now took the offensive and pressing into the struggling band, made a sudden, swinging side-cut which swept a head completely from its moorings, then plunged a foot of steel into another naked breast.
"It was more than the Tontos could stand, and they gave way before the Jap's sudden onslaught, taking refuge behind the rocks. A dozen troopers were now in action, their fire soon causing the Indians to scatter like quail along the rocky ridge, where it would have been foolhardy to pursue.
"As the Indians fled Sammy dropped his dripping point, and turning, ran back to Reynolds, and was in the act of lifting him when an Indian, who had paused in his flight, rested his rifle barrel upon a boulder, and, taking deliberate aim, shot the Jap through the body. The little fellow pitched forward and lay so motionless we thought him dead; but as the boys tenderly lifted and turned him he smiled faintly, as he said, 'Me all right; help Meester Reynolds.' Then the mercy of unconsciousness came to him, and he lay white and still as one whose earthly cares were at an end.
"It was the wickedest little fight I've ever seen; five troopers were dead and three were desperately wounded, while there were eighteen good Indians to balance the account, seven of them Sammy's. But the woman and her babies were safe, so the sacrifice had not been wholly in vain.
"The surgeon shortly reached the scene and hurriedly examined the wounded men. To my look of inquiry, he replied, 'Reynolds and the other man will pull through, but Sammy is booked, spine broken.' From the troopers gathered close about came a half-suppressed sob, which told, more eloquently than words, how the lad had won them.