Читать книгу Buffalo Bill and the Overland Trail онлайн

20 страница из 76

Well might those three whites in the mule triangle be afraid, at last; and who could blame the boy, there, if he, particularly, was afraid? It was a bad place for a boy. Dave watched him anxiously, and wondered.

The boy was facing toward the charge; the two men also were facing outward, to right and left of him, that they might cover the charge as it spread.

Up rose the boy’s gun; the two men seemed to be waiting upon him. He was aiming, but he would not shoot yet, would he, with the Indians so far off?

Yet, he shot! His gun muzzle puffed smoke. The squaws started, cried out, waved frantic hands—for three hundred yards from the muzzle had toppled, toppled from his pony, Lame Buffalo, smitten in mid-course! It seemed to Dave that he could hear the two white men cheering; but to the cries of the squaws were added the terrific yells of the warriors, drowning out every other sound.

Nevertheless, that was a long, long shot, for boy or man; and a good shot. The charge split again; and not daring even to pick up Lame Buffalo, who was crawling painfully and pressing a hand to his side, it circled around and around the mule fort, as before.