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

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So the gallant commander’s appeal had been made—and had it been made in vain? So it would seem, for not a man spoke for several moments. They shifted their guns, or changed weight from one foot to the other, or adjusted a bandage which already marked the redskin’s devilish work.

They were brave men; but death seemed too sure a result of the attempt called for; it meant—to their minds—but another life flung away!

“Was it not better that all should die here together, fighting desperately till the last man fell?” That was the question these old scarred veterans asked in their own minds. The venture would be utterly and completely hopeless.

“Look there!”

The trumpet-call was uttered by an officer on one of the towers of the stockade. His arm pointed westward, toward a ridge of rock which—barren and forbidding—sloped down into the valley facing the main gateway of Fort Advance.

At the officer’s cry a score of men leaped to positions from which could be seen the object that occasioned it. Even Major Baldwin, knowing that the cry had been uttered because of some momentous happening, hurriedly mounted to the platform above the gate. He feared that already his demand for another volunteer was too late. He believed the redskins were massing for another charge.