Rocky Mountain Sam — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

28 ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM. = dozen painted braves dashed by on their ponies, whooping, yelling, and swinging their weapons, and driving a small herd of cattle and oxen before them. “It is only a cattle raid, or d’ye reckon they’ve attacked the ranch?” asked Sam. «Ef the gal warn’t along we mought ride for’ards and see fur ourselves,” replied Big Horn, still more sullenly. “The gal ain’t afeard to go with us,” said Sam. ‘*You can take care of yourself, can’t you, Fayaway?” he added, turning to the girl, who appeared entirely insensible to fear. “You bet!’ said Fayaway, using one of the slang phrases which she had most readily picked up. _ . «Come on, then,” said Big Horn, and spurring out, with the Indian maiden in their rear, the hunters advanced at a trot along the narrow trail, with their weapons ready for use. The shots grew nearer and more incessant as they rode, and presently, as they came out from the rocky region upon a little eminence overlooking the comparatively unbroken plain, in the midst of which Colonel Chapman’s ranch, with its outlying corrals, was s*tuated, they saw a desultory fight in progress—the ranchmen being gathered out in a hollow square, while the Indians, in considerable force, were whee.ing around them upon their fleet ponies, but not ven- turing within very close range. There also seemed to be a party in the interior of the adobe walls surrounding the © farm-house, making every preparation for withstanding a siege, should it become necessary. : “Hurrah!” cried Sam—forgetting for the moment. all about Fayaway, who, however, appeared in no wise alarmed; “this is glorious, Big Horn! Weare in for a fight.” “I’m thar!” was the laconic reply; and the next moment the gallant hunters were dashing over the plain—Fayaway still bringing up the rear, with her long, dark tresses streaming out on the wind. The Indians saw them coming when they were something less than a mile away, and sent out a detachment of six or seven braves to intercept them. Without checking his pony in the least; Rocky Mountain Sam—who, with the single exception of Big Horn, was the best shot in the territory— drew his rifle to his shoulder at preposterously long range and blazed away, and the foremost savage threw up his hands and plunged head-foremost from the saddle, e¢om 200KS (elo) @) mn -