Rocky Mountain Sam — page 120: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

~~ 02 @¢ eee «(1 TL eae / : Ma es Se” 4 i ie ee ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM. 111 front rank of the advancing Indians was still almost a thousand yards away. But crack! rang the rifle almost at the same instant that its butt touched the hunter’s shoulder, and one of the tallest chieftains was seen to throw up his arms and plunge forward over his pony’s head. Again and again did Big Horn reload and fire with the same unerring and terrible effect, and as the line drew nearer, the rest of the band tried their hands at sharpshoot- ing, doing more or less execution, until the order was given to reserve fire until the enemy fairly charged. They had not long to wait. When within two or three hundred yards of the barricade they suddenly put spurs to their ponies and dashed up at fuil speed, sounding their war-whoops and waving their weapons as they came. Of course they were taken by surprise by the preparations that had been made to receive them—probably having ex- pected to find nothing more than a handful of worn-out, desperate fellows, incapable of offering any determined re- sistence—and were unable to accomplish anything. They received volley after volley, poured into their ranks with murderous precision, their ponies bruised and lacerated their knees and breasts against the stiff, sharpened fir boughs, rearing and plunging with pain and affright, and the few warriors who dismounted and endeavored to force their way through the labyrinth on foot, never lived to re- turn. These were the fresher Indians who had taken no part in the affray of the morning, and as those behind, pressed ‘upon them in solid masses, and they found themselves en- tirely hemmed in with the mountain wall on one hand, the river—too deep to ford—on the other, and the bayonet like fir-boughs in front, where they were mowed down like sheep by the deadly breech-loaders of the hunters, while many of them were forced into the rushing waters and com- pelled to swim for their lives. ‘Back! back!’ yelled the renegade, forcing his way through the bewildered redskins, and seeing, too late, the snare into which they had so foolishly blundered. He dashed to and fro, waving hissword, shouting himself hoarse, and at length got the line in full retreat out of GComichboo (are)