Читать книгу Buffalo Bill, the Border King; Or, Redskin and Cowboy онлайн

20 страница из 86

Above all rose the notes of the bugle sending forth orders at Major Baldwin’s command. Now and then that piercing, weird war-cry of the Border King was heard—a sound well known and feared by the Indians. They recognized it as the voice of he whom they called Pa-e-has-ka—“The Long Hair.”

Indian nature was not equal to facing the deadly hail of iron and lead, and the red wave broke against the stockade and receded, leaving many still and writhing bodies in the ditches which surrounded the fort, and scattered upon the plain. Slowly at first the redskins surged backward under the galling fire of the whites but finally the retreat became a stampede.

The rout was complete. All but the dead and badly wounded escaped swiftly out of rifle-shot, save one mounted chief. He was left alone, struggling with his mount, trying to force the animal to leave the vicinity of the fort gate.

This was Oak Heart himself, the king of the Sioux, and his mount was a great white cavalry charger that he had captured months before. This was no half-wild Indian pony; yet the Indian chief, without spurs and a proper bridle, could not control the beast. The horse had heard the bugle to which he had been so long used. He was determined in his equine mind to rejoin the white men who had been his friends, instead of these cruel red masters, and he made a dash for the gate of the fortress.