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

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The signals of Texas Jack in his character of Oak Heart had drawn many of the Indians away from the cañon’s mouth toward the place for which the supposed chief and Buffalo Bill seemed to be aiming. There were very few left in the path of the reckless scouts. Yet those few must be settled with.

There were no mounted warriors near the cañon entrance. The great scout had chosen his place of attack wisely. And there were few ponies in the vicinity, anyway—not over two dozen at the most. The earlier stampeding of the ponies had almost entirely dismounted Oak Heart’s braves. The ponies that might follow, should the scouts get through safely, neither of them feared, mounted as they were on such splendid animals.

“Let ’em out, Jack!” cried Buffalo Bill, as they made directly for the cañon.

“I hear you!” returned Texas Jack, smiling recklessly, and settling himself more firmly in his saddle.

The two were off like frightened deer. For some moments the Indians were almost dumb with amazement. Then the war-whoop of Oak Heart was answered by wild cries from all about the field. The reds knew that the Border King had outwitted them, and as one man the mob of redskins made for the entrance to the cañon, firing as they ran.