“Never mind, boys,” said Dick in a cheery voice—“we can fight them if they are in a fighting mood just as well on the plains as on the top of yonder hill. They probably think that all our powder is lost, and expect to gain an easy victory.”
“It will be wise to dismount, messieurs,” said Pierre. “Each man must take post behind his horse, and when the savages come on we must wait until they get near enough to afford us a sure mark.”
“We will follow Pierre’s advice,” said Dick, “but we will wait to ascertain whether they have hostile intentions or not. Our best plan is to proceed steadily on as if we were not conscious of their presence.”
We continued, therefore, riding forward, so as to pass the hill about the eighth of a mile on our right, keeping a careful watch on the Redskins. Suddenly there was a movement among them, and out dashed several horsemen. Sweeping around the hill, they approached us. We lost not a moment, and, placing ourselves as arranged, we stood with our rifles ready to receive them. On they came, shrieking at the top of their voices and uttering their war-cries, until they got almost within shot. Seeing this we presented our rifles, but, just at the moment that we were about to fire, the warriors threw themselves over on the opposite side of their horses, and, sweeping by like a whirlwind, discharged their guns.
Although it was a fine exhibition of horsemanship, the fellows, evidently afraid of us, had kept too far off for their object, and the bullets fell short. At the same moment Armitage, Story, and Pierre fired. Armitage’s bullet struck the horse of the leading brave, which however still galloped on. Story wounded the next warrior, who turning tail rejoined his companions, while the third—who had lifted up his head to take better aim—got a bullet through it from Pierre’s unerring rifle. He fell to the ground, along which he was dragged by his horse, which followed the one immediately before it.
Seeing what had befallen their leaders, the other Indians, who were riding furiously towards us, reined in their steeds, considering discretion the better part of valour.
“We must not trust to the fellows,” cried Dick; “we must hold our ground until they move off.”
It was fortunate we did so, for in a short time the whole troop, gaining courage and hoping to frighten us with war-whoops, came sweeping down upon us. Fortunately but few had fire-arms, and their powder was none of the best. Their arrows fell short, while their bullets, which struck our saddles, failed to pierce them. I got a slight graze on my cheek, and a piece of lead went through Charley’s cap.
Our rifles in the meantime returned the salute in good earnest. Three of us only fired at a time, and three Indians were hit—one of whom was killed outright, though his companions managed to drag off his body. Still the odds were greatly against us. Had we been well supplied with ammunition we should have had no fear as to the result of the encounter, but we dared not fire a shot more than was absolutely necessary.