CHAPTER XIXA LIVELY SKIRMISH
Robert wheeled instantly to discover the cause of Deerfoot’s action. He was not a second too soon, for, as he turned, a tomahawk whizzed past his head, missing him only by a few inches. His sudden movement had saved his life.
As if springing from the ground itself, an Indian bore down upon him. The redskin was scarcely ten feet distant when the startled boy first caught sight of him. On he came with knife upraised, shouting his war whoop. Fury was depicted in every line of the Indian’s countenance. Robert had his rifle in his hand, but, he had no time to take aim, so swiftly did his enemy charge. Instinctively, however, the young volunteer started to raise the gun to his shoulder. He realized at once that he wouldnot have time to take aim, and accordingly before the barrel was above the level of his hips he fired.
Even at so short a distance the bullet went wild. The report of the gun, the flash and the smoke checked the Indian momentarily, however, and this check undoubtedly saved Robert’s life. Following the discharge of the gun, almost instantly Deerfoot hurled himself through the air upon the body of the onrushing Sac. The two men came together with a thud and a moment later they were struggling on the ground.
Robert was so stunned by the unexpected turn of events that he merely stood and looked at the fight going on at his feet. Joseph, on the other hand, had not lost his wits for even an instant.
“Jump in there and help Deerfoot, Bob!” he cried. “What are you standing around doing nothing for?”
To Robert it had seemed as if this contest was to be just like the one he had decided in Deerfoot’s favor only a few moments before. It was hard for him to distinguish one Indian from the other, but he stood over the two, readyto follow Joseph’s instructions the moment an opportunity should offer.
Deerfoot’s opponent had a long knife in his hand. He struggled desperately to get a chance to use it, while Deerfoot fought with all his strength to prevent this move. He had seized his adversary by the wrist and clung desperately to the hand which was holding the deadly knife.
“Knock that knife out of his hand!” called Joseph excitedly. He partly raised himself from the ground and even tried to rise to his feet. This was out of the question, however, and he sank back with a groan.
“Rap him on the knuckles! What’s the matter with you, Bob?” he cried. “Why don’t you do something?”
As the hand which held the knife swung in his direction Robert did shake off his lethargy and was able to do something. He struck the hostile redman with all his force directly across the wrist. He used a stone which he had picked up for the purpose. The blow was a severe one and it accomplished its object. The fingers relaxed their grip on the handle and the knife slipped to the ground.
“Grab it, quick!” directed Joseph. “Don’t let him have it again!”
Robert pounced upon the weapon and having availed himself of it turned to use it on his enemy. It was not necessary, however. The blow which Robert had dealt had broken the Indian’s wrist and rendered his hand useless. Deerfoot found no difficulty in dealing with an opponent who now had the use of only one arm.
He quickly disposed of his adversary and both Robert and Joseph turned their backs with a shudder as Deerfoot tore the scalp from his victim’s head. There was no use in arguing with him about the act now, however.
“Let’s hurry!” exclaimed Robert, when Deerfoot had completed his gruesome task.
“No go yet,” replied Deerfoot. He quickly stepped over the log which had sheltered them all so well, and parting the bushes disclosed to view another Indian who lay lifeless on the ground. Deerfoot immediately set to work to tear his bloody trophy from the head of this brave also.
“Where did that Indian come from?” exclaimed Robert in surprise.
“Didn’t you see Deerfoot throw his tomahawk?” asked Joseph.
“Yes, but I didn’t know it was at that man.”
“Certainly it was,” said Joseph. “His aim was evidently good, too.”
“I should say so. Just suppose it hadn’t been though. I hate to think of what might have happened to us if he had missed.” Robert shivered at the mere thought of such a thing.
At this moment Deerfoot reappeared, his work completed. “We go now,” he exclaimed quickly.
“It’s about time,” said Robert as he bent over to pick up his brother. Once more he grasped him by the ankles while Deerfoot held him under his arms. Thus burdened, they turned and started back to the shelter of the trees.
“Come along,” shouted John Mason cheerily. “We’ll keep watch that no one else gets close to you. Come as fast as you can and keep low.”
“I’m low enough,” exclaimed Joseph, as his back bumped upon a mound of earth.
“Sorry, Joe, I didn’t mean to scrape you,” Robert apologized.
“Don’t worry about me,” said Joseph. “You can bump me all you want if you will only getme back quickly. My wound feels better now since Deerfoot bandaged it.”
Stumbling and tripping often, they hurried on their way. Shouts and words of encouragement were flung at them from their comrades and served as a spur to the three friends. Soon they reached their original positions where a warm welcome was waiting for them.
“Great work!” cried Walt, risking his life to run forward and shake hands with all three of the volunteers. “You all did splendidly.”
“Indeed you did!” echoed John Mason. “We are very proud of you.”
“Who can fix Joe’s leg?” demanded Robert. He had no interest in the words of praise being heaped upon them. At least, his brother’s welfare was the first thought that came into his mind.
“Is he hurt badly?” exclaimed Walt anxiously.
“I think not,” replied Robert. “It seems like a flesh wound, but it ought to be attended to.”
“Of course it had,” said John Mason. “Some one help me carry him back here a little way and I’ll soon fix him up.”
Once more Joseph was lifted from the ground and borne farther back from the firing line.John Mason set to work at once and it was easy to see from the way he conducted himself that he was an expert in the art of looking after wounds. In a very few moments he had doctored Joseph so successfully that he was able to bear some weight upon his injured limb. With two men supporting him he was even able to hobble along for a few steps.
“Do you think you can ride your horse?” asked John Mason anxiously.
“I know I can,” replied Joseph.
“That’s good news. If we have to run for it you’ll certainly need The Swallow to help you out.”
“I can shoot a gun, too,” exclaimed Joseph.
“Maybe you can,” admitted Mason. “At the same time you’re not going to try it just now.”
“Let me have just one shot,” he pleaded.
“What’s the use, Joe?” demanded Robert. “It will be dark in half an hour and the fight will be over. We don’t need you. The Indians are beaten. Why, we killed three ourselves and they won’t risk any more men.”
“Don’t be too sure about that,” cautioned Mason. “It’s true that night is coming on and I don’t believe they’d try to attack us in thedark, but I have a feeling that they may make one last try before night really falls.”
The firing had slackened in the last few moments and there seemed to be a decided lull in the hostilities. This state of affairs was not of long duration, however, for suddenly the war whoop sounded again and the firing recommenced. John Mason was right. The Indians were making a last desperate attempt to overcome their foes.
“You stay here, Joe,” exclaimed Robert. “Here, sit behind this tree and we will come after you if anything happens.”
“I don’t worry about that,” said Joseph. “Please don’t let anything happen, though.”
“Not if we can help it,” exclaimed Mason. “Come on, Bob,” he urged. “They need us out there in front I guess.”
Walt and Deerfoot already had taken their places on the firing line again and Robert and Mason soon joined them. The Indians were closer now and were evidently striving desperately to strike a telling blow at the white men.
The approaching darkness was a great aid to the Indians, who crept determinedly nearer and nearer to the band of scouts. It was hardto discover them in the dusk and every moment it seemed as if the flash of a hostile rifle came from a new place. The flash came and then when the scouts’ fire was directed at the spot the Indian apparently had moved. The next shot would come from a spot ten or fifteen feet to the left or right; it was impossible to tell which beforehand.
“They’ll outflank us,” exclaimed John Mason anxiously. “If they ever get around to our rear we won’t stand any chance at all.”
Already three of the scouts had fallen. Two of them were dead and the other, a man named William Reach, was mortally wounded. What the casualties on the Indian side were it was impossible to tell. At any rate the advance had not been checked. Using every bit of cover, the redmen pressed forward relentlessly. Every moment the position of the scouts became more untenable.
“We’ll have to fall back,” exclaimed Walt at length. “Go slow, though,” he called, “and keep your guns busy all the time.”
Fighting every inch of the distance, the scouts retreated. From tree to tree they went, doggedly and stubbornly contesting the ground withtheir opponents. The Indians were not to be denied, however, and it was soon apparent that the white men must run for their lives. They were outnumbered by their foes and unless they made their escape soon it was evident that they would be caught in a trap.
Walt turned to Robert. “You and Deerfoot go and put your brother on his horse,” he ordered. “Then you both get on your ponies and run for it. We will follow right behind you.”
“Don’t you need us here?” exclaimed Robert, loath to leave his place on the front.
“Yes, we need you,” admitted Walt. “Joseph needs you more, though. Go to him as fast as you can. You’d better go quickly, too. Things may be pretty hot for us here in a few moments.”
Robert delayed no longer. Summoning Deerfoot he hurried back to the place where they had left Joseph seated under the tree. On the way he saw two of his comrades bending over William Reach, the man who had been wounded. From their attitude he could see plainly that another member of the band had breathed his last.