He was congratulating
himself on the promised success of his mission when all at once,
directly in front of him he saw the dim shadowy outlines of a mounted
Indian. Quick as a flash Denny pulled his revolver and another Indian
was soon in the happy hunting ground. This caused a general alarm and
Hogan knew he was in for it. Putting his spurs deep in his horse's
flanks away he went with the speed of the wind. A perfect swarm of
Indians came after him, yelling like fiends and shooting like demons.
On! on! he sped, seemingly bearing a charmed life because bullets
whizzed by him like hail. He was not idle, and when the opportunity
presented itself his revolver spoke and more than one Indian pony was
made riderless thereby.
Suddenly he felt a sharp stinging pain in his right shoulder, and but
for a convulsive grasp of the pommel with his bridle hand he would have
pitched headlong to the earth.
No, by God! he couldn't fail now. He must succeed, the lives of his
comrades depended on his efforts. He had told Colonel Clarke he would
get through or die, and he was a long way from dead yet.
Pages:
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453