. Thrilling lives of Buffalo Bill, Col. Wm. F. Cody, last of the great scouts and Pawnee Bill, Major Gordon W. Lillie (Pawnee Bill) white chief of the Pawnees. beside the wagon master and waited fororders from the boss. On they came, the Indians mountedon snorting, hard-breathing ponies, war-whooping to theaccompanying horse-hoof tattoo as they raced over thehard, brown, sunburnt prairies. The wagon men were all well armed with heavy Coltrevolvers and Mississippi yaegers, a powerful gun carry-ing a bullet and two buckshot. Steady, boys! Frank McCarthy sang out good aim, pick your m


. Thrilling lives of Buffalo Bill, Col. Wm. F. Cody, last of the great scouts and Pawnee Bill, Major Gordon W. Lillie (Pawnee Bill) white chief of the Pawnees. beside the wagon master and waited fororders from the boss. On they came, the Indians mountedon snorting, hard-breathing ponies, war-whooping to theaccompanying horse-hoof tattoo as they raced over thehard, brown, sunburnt prairies. The wagon men were all well armed with heavy Coltrevolvers and Mississippi yaegers, a powerful gun carry-ing a bullet and two buckshot. Steady, boys! Frank McCarthy sang out good aim, pick your man. Fire! The guns thundered, and through powder flash andsmoke the leader saw the effect of the fire. The volleychecked the rush for a moment. Boys, McCarthy yelled, load up as you run andmake a break for that slough yonder; we can use its bankfor a breastwork. On double-quick the men dashed for cover, reached itin safety, carrying along one of their number who hadbeen wounded. The bank afforded excellent protection,but McCarthy was worried. The longer we stay here, he said, the worse well becoralled; we must try to make our way back to Fort Kear- [24]. Followed by Indl^ns ney by wading the river, keeping in the shadow of thebank. Slowly and cautiously the little band of men edged theirway down the stream, in places it was so deep that theyhad to swim; a raft was built for the wounded herder. The Indians followed at a safe distance, occasionallysending along a bothersome shot or poisoned men as they were, the strain and labor began totell on the wagon drivers. It was a case of every manfor himself; little attention had been paid to young Cody,who was drenched to the skin. Surging with excitement, his brain and body not usedto such a gruelling task, was deadly fatigued. Theyoungster began to lag behind. It was about ten oclock that night—the moon at timespeeped through tree tops fringing the river bank. Allwas quiet save the gurgling water as the stream swirledar


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidthrillingliv, bookyear1911