hoot as they got within range. Our
rear-guard, who were acting as skirmishers, fired, and then fell back on
the main body, with the exception of two or three, who as they were
retreating fell pierced by arrows shot at them from the ranks of the
approaching enemy. Our cavalry were far outnumbered.

On came the savages, a flight of arrows filled the air, and then, with
reiterated whoops and shrieks, the Indians swooped down upon us. With
sorrow, not unallied with dismay, we saw several of our friends fall
from their saddles, while every trooper was engaged in a deadly struggle
with a dozen foes. Amid the smoke of the fire-arms, we could see the
spears thrusting, sabres and tomahawks gleaming, pistols flashing,
horses plunging and rearing, while shouts and cries rent the air. It
was too evident that our party were getting the worst of it and were
being forced back, over the ground towards the fort. Fresh hordes were
seen coming on, probably those who had before retreated. Again the
trumpet sounded the recall. The commandant now summoned every available
man in the fort; some to garrison the pits, others to advance to the
support of the cavalry.

We had dismounted and were soon joined by my father and Uncle Denis,
with about twenty men led by the commandant himself. We advanced
rapidly in two parties, so as to allow the troopers to pass between us.
My father took command of one of the parties. As we advanced we could
see horses and men struggling on the ground, many pierced through and
through with arrows; the tall chief stooping down from his horse, seized
one poor fellow and lifting him up, struck him a deadly blow with his
tomahawk and then hurled him back lifeless.

Some of the troopers, unable to extricate themselves, were still
fighting bravely and dearly selling their lives, while those who could,
obeying the recall, came galloping back. The Indians, now seeing us
advance, the tall chief, dashing forward, with poised spear, was about
to pierce my father, when Dio lifted his rifle and fired. The warrior
bent forward, the blood gushing from his mouth, but still coming on,
when the black, seizing the sabre of a fallen soldier, struck him on the
side and his body fell, his hands touching the ground, while his legs
remained lashed to the saddle. The cross-fire, which, at the word of
command, was poured in on the ranks of the savages, stopped their onward
course. A successful attempt was made, however, to re