The other Indians were strung out along behind, and could do
no immediate damage. But I saw that the fellow in the lead must be
checked, or a stray bullet might hit me or the horse. Suddenly stopping
Brigham, therefore, I raised old "Lucretia" to my shoulder and took
deliberate aim, hoping to hit either the horse or the rider. He was not
eighty yards behind me. At the crack of the rifle down went the horse.
Not waiting to see if he regained his feet, Brigham and I went fairly
flying toward our destination. We had urgent business just then and
were in a hurry to attend to it.
The other Indians had gained while I stopped to drop the leader. A
volley of shots whizzed past me. Fortunately none of them hit. Now and
then, to return the compliment, I wheeled and fired. One of my shots
broke the leg of one of my pursuers' mounts.
But seven or eight Indians now remained in dangerous proximity to me.
As their horses were beginning to lag, I checked Brigham to give him an
opportunity to get a few extra breaths. I had determined that if the
worst came to the worst I would drop into a buffalo wallow, where I
might possibly stand off my pursuers. I was not compelled to do this,
for Brigham carried me through nobly.
When we came within three miles of the railroad track, where two
companies of soldiers were stationed, one of the outposts gave the
alarm.
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