as before. One white man, a
member of Mr. Hobart's division, was killed outright, and two others
were wounded. More mules were killed than before, and more were injured;
but still the train moved ahead, and this time its defenders could see
the sparkle of water in the river they longed so ardently to reach. How
thirsty they were getting, and what dry work fighting was! The wagon
mules sniffed the water eagerly, and could hardly be restrained from
rushing towards it.

But another charge must be repelled first. This time it was so fierce
that the Indians rode straight on in the face of the first and second
volleys from the engineers' rifles. When the third, delivered at less
than two rods' distance, finally shattered their ranks, and sent them
flying across the level bottom-land, they left a dozen wagon mules
transfixed with their lances.

The Indians left many a pony behind them when they retreated from that
charge; but in every case their riders, killed, wounded, or unhurt, were
borne off by the others, so that no estimate of their loss could be
formed.

Before another charge could be made, the wagons had been rushed forward,
with their mules on a full gallop, to a point so close to the river-bank
that there was no longer any danger of being cut off from it. Here they
were corralled, and chained together in such a manner as to present an
almost impregnable front to the Indians. At least it was one that those
who viewed it, with feelings of bitter disappointment, from a safe
distance, did not care to attack. After they had noted the disposition
of the train, and satisfied themselves that it was established in that
place for the night, they disappeared so completely that no trace of
them was to be seen, and the explorers were left to take an account of
the losses they had sustained in this brief but fierce encounter.

Only one man killed! What a comfort it was that no more had shared his
fate, and yet how sad that even this one should be taken from their
number! Glen had known him well; for he was one of those merry young
Kansas City surveyors, one of the "bald heads," as they were known in
the party. An hour before he had been one of the jolliest among them. He
was one of those who had gone out so cheerfully with "Billy" Brackett to
the rescue of the boys. He had been instantly killed while bravely doing
his duty, and had suffered no pain. They had that consolation as they
talked of him in low, awed tones. His body c