IN THE NICK OF TIME.
Being now fully acquainted with the plan of Ricardo, Captain la Clyde
went rapidly around the line and quietly told the men whom they were to
fight as their foe, and begged them to steel their hearts against any
thought of mercy, and to never yield one inch of ground, for the motto
of the Branded Brotherhood was that men must die, and beauty and booty
be considered lawful prizes.
Hardly had the young officer made the circuit, when a dark mass of
moving horsemen was seen approaching, and a clear voice hailed.
“Well, what do you want?” answered Percy la Clyde.
“We have defeated your enemies, and would warn you that we are friends,
that you may not fire upon us,” replied the voice that hailed.
“We know no friends in the dark. If you are such as you represent, camp
on the river until daylight; if you are enemies, we are ready for you,”
coolly shouted back Captain la Clyde.
“Charge!” was then yelled in the commanding voice of Ricardo, and like
a fiery whirlwind his horsemen swept down upon the devoted defenders of
the train.
“Throw no shots away, men! Fire!” cried Percy la Clyde.
A line of flame flashed from the wagons, and several of the Brotherhood
and their horses went down. But, from some cause or other, the aim of
the emigrants had been untrue, and the outlaws pressed fiercely on,
filling the air with their discordant cries, every man yelling in his
native tongue, until it seemed as if the very fiends from below had
burst forth for a gala night.
“Men, be cool; there are devils upon you now, and your aim must be
true; you must kill, or all is lost,” rang out in the clear tones of
Captain la Clyde and Major Conrad.
Howard Lawrence, who had thrown off his air of indifference and nobly
come to the front, also encouraged the men by voice and gesture.
Then rolled forth a ceaseless roar of firearms, the heavy rush of iron
hoofs was heard, and the confused shouts of many voices filled the air,
until it seemed the grove was filled with a band of devils holding high
carnival.
But, unchecked, and with desperate daring and determination, the
Brotherhood came on until they dashed their horses against the very
line of breastworks.
Then their weapons began to tell upon the emigrants, who broke from the
fierce fire and fell back, to the horror of Percy la Clyde, who called
forth, in trumpet voice:
“Troopers, rally around your commander! Steady, now, charge!”
Gallantly the soldiers rallied around their officer, and dashed forward
with him to recover the ground lost by the emigrants.
But already had Ricardo bounded on horseback over the barrier. Followed
by a dozen of his daring horsemen, he dashed upon the dismounted
troopers, who, in a vain attempt to check his mad career, fell beneath
the iron hoofs of the outlaws’ horses.
“My God, it cannot be that all is lost!” cried Percy la Clyde, in dread.
Then, drawing his sword, he shouted:
“Troopers, come on! Men, they are but a handful of murdering thieves;
follow me, and drive them back!”
In vain were his gallant example and clear commands. In vain sounded
the orders of Major Conrad, who, in a frenzy, strove to stay the
torrent of defeat.
In vain was the conspicuous courage of Howard Lawrence. Useless, too,
was the discipline and bravery of the troopers; all was useless, for
from some unaccountable reason a panic had seized upon the settlers,
brave men though they were, and fighting for all they held dear on
earth.
They gave ground rapidly, until twoscore of the outlaws had secured
a footing within the inclosure, and by the light of the waning moon,
which made all around visible, Ricardo was forming his men for a
desperate and final charge.
Then his clear voice was again heard, giving his stern orders. Before
they could be obeyed, there was heard a wild and prolonged war whoop
that made the blood of all who heard it turn cold with dread.
Then upon the moonlit scene dashed a single horseman, bounding over
the barrier and whirling suddenly into the very midst of the band of
outlaws.
“Buffalo Bill!” was shouted.
“The scout, and alone!”
Such were the cries that were heard, as with lightning rapidity the
daring horseman, with a revolver in each hand, made his shots ring
forth with telling effect.
“No, he isn’t alone!” cried a voice.
A rolling sound, like muffled thunder, was heard upon the prairie.
Again the wild war whoop of the scout broke forth and was answered from
twoscore of throats by three hearty cheers.
“The troopers, the troopers!” shouted the outlaws, and hastily they
turned to fly, Ricardo, with a bitter curse, first spurring toward
Buffalo Bill, who wheeled to meet him.
But, as if thinking better of his intention, the outlaw suddenly
checked his pace, and heading his splendid horse for the barrier, took
it with a flying leap, and disappeared in pursuit of his men.
Instantly Buffalo Bill followed him, and the two were soon lost to
sight upon the prairie in the opposite direction to that from which
the cavalry squadron was approaching. A moment more and the cavalrymen
dashed up, headed by Major Belden, one of the senior officers of the
fort.
“Major. I greet you; but though too late to join in the fun, you have
scared off the enemy!”
Percy la Clyde stepped forward and addressed Ernest Belden, a soldierly
looking man of forty, with a handsome, but dark, sinister face.
“Who were your foes, La Clyde?” asked the officer.
“We have had two sets, major; first the Dog Soldier Sioux, under that
desperado, Red Dick, and then none other than Ricardo and his desperate
band.”
“A hard lot, indeed, and you have been most fortunate to escape them,
and I am glad to see that the scout told me no more than the truth; but
where has he gone?” The major turned to look for Buffalo Bill.
“Gone like mad after the outlaw chief; but will we not give pursuit,
major?”
“No, Captain la Clyde, it would be useless. Besides, I am now destined
upon a raid upon the Sioux village to the northward; so will leave you
as soon as day breaks, which will be soon.”
When Captain la Clyde presented his superior to Major Conrad, and also
to the ladies, who approached at that moment, he could but mark the
start of surprised admiration that the major gave when he beheld the
beauty of Sibyl Conrad.
The melancholy duty of caring for the wounded and burying the dead was
begun. When the sun arose it lighted up a sad scene, rendered more
mournful by the sound of the living wailing for those dear to them, who
had fallen.
After a hasty breakfast, Major Belden and his troopers departed,
leaving Captain la Clyde, as before, to be the escort of the train.
Hardly had the forms of the squadron disappeared over a roll in the
prairie, when up dashed Buffalo Bill, his horse covered with foam and
showing every indication of a hard ride, as did also his rider, for his
face was pale and wore a look of fatigue.
Yet his voice was calm and pleasant, as he replied, in acknowledgment
to the cheers given him:
“I thank you, comrades; but I was almost too late, as I had far to ride
before I could find aid for you, as the Pawnees had left their hunting
grounds; fortunately I met Major Belden, and he was able to help me,
and come to your succor.”
Dismounting, Buffalo Bill devoted himself to the care of his horse, and
then, after partaking of a hearty breakfast, which Sibyl prepared for
him, he threw himself down to rest, and at once was lost in deep and
refreshing slumber, while Major Conrad and Captain la Clyde set about
their arrangements for continuing their way on the following morning,
for they were anxious to get settled on the spot that was to be the new
home of the emigrants.