o
fear that he had been killed or seriously wounded. So much did this
fear oppress him that he resolved to risk his own safety by riding
forward to make a search. He knew that Kiddie's main object in posting
him here where he waited was to keep him out of danger. But what if
Kiddie himself were in danger, or badly wounded, and needed help?

Rube Carter had often said that what he wanted more than anything else
was to be of vital help to Kiddie in some situation of great peril, and
the idea that such a situation was now at hand so took possession of
him that caution and obedience alike were put aside. With the
impulsive recklessness of boyhood, he started off to search for Kiddie
in the very midst of the fighting. He had only the very vaguest notion
of where Kiddie might be. He was aiming at getting to the place where
he had last seen him riding at the head of a large company of the Crows
to encounter an equally large company of the Sioux. The fighting at
this point had now ceased, and the ground was covered with dead and
dying horses and fallen warriors.

Rube did not reflect that his mount was a trained Indian war-horse,
accustomed to the excitement of battle, and when he tugged and pulled
at the halter rein to make the pony stop and let him dismount to go on
foot amongst the wounded, the animal tossed its mane and galloped on
and on to join a troop of its fellows charging across the battle front.

All Rube's efforts to keep out of the actual fighting were useless.
Wholly against his will he was carried into it. Arrows and spears were
flying about his head; bullets hummed past him; he saw tomahawks raised
aloft to strike at him.

Suddenly the horse immediately in front of him staggered and rolled
over. Rube's own mount reared and swerved to clear the obstacle. His
knees lost their grip, and he was thrown to the ground.

The long halter rope, wound round his wrist, almost wrenched out his
arm. He was dragged for a little distance, but his hand was open, and
the loops of the lariat uncoiled themselves as the horse plunged
onward, leaving him behind.

The fighting continued round about him for a while, but the Crows
pressed their enemies back and back until none remained excepting those
who had lost their horses; and these, instead of following the battle
on foot, went among the killed and wounded collecting scalp locks.

Some of the braves seized riderless ponies, leapt on their backs, and
galloped off