Eager fingers
were already on the trigger, and a blaze of light ran along the
entire rank. The Royal Greens and Rangers, although replying
with their own fire, gave back before the storm of bullets, and
the Wyoming men, with a shout of triumph, sprang forward. It was
always a characteristic of the border settler, despite many
disasters and a knowledge of Indian craft and cunning, to rush
straight at his foe whenever he saw him. His, unless a trained
forest warrior himself, was a headlong bravery, and now this
gallant little force asked for nothing but to come to close grips
with the enemy.
The men in the center with "Indian" Butler gave back still more.
With cries of victory the Wyoming men pressed forward, firing
rapidly, and continuing to drive the mongrel white force. The
rifles were cracking rapidly, and smoke arose over the two lines.
The wind caught wisps of it and carried them off down the river.
"It goes better than I thought," said Paul as he reloaded his
rifle.
"Not yet," said Henry, "we are fighting the white men only.
Where are all the Indians, who alone outnumber our men more than
two to one?"
"Here they come," said Shif'less Sol, pointing to the depths of
the swamp, which was supposed to protect the left flank of the
Wyoming force.
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