THE FIKST DAY'S FIGHT. 369 



one head, and then both of us took a chaw o' ter- 

 baccer. 



"For the next few hours ther wur an awful scrim- 

 mage, and a shootin', and a hollerin', and a vvhizzin' 

 of bullets, which made that the hottest little island 

 ever stranded on sand. The boys had all dug out, 

 with their hands, sort o' little rifle-pits, and fit behind 

 'em. We had good Spencers, with a few Henrys, 

 and the way those patents spit lead at the devils' 

 hearts wur a caution. The first charge, they cum 

 close up to us, and for a hull minnit, that stretched 

 out awfully, we were afraid they 'd ride us down. It 

 was reg'lar coffee-mill work then, grindin' away at 

 the levers, and we flung bullets among 'em astonish- 

 in'. As fast as one Injun keeled, another 'd pick him 

 up, and nary dead was left on the field. 



" They follered up the charge game by a siege 

 one, and peppered away at us from the neighborin' 

 ravines and hills. Ther number wur about eight 

 hundred, and some had carbines, and others old 

 rifles and pistols. A few would sneak along in the 

 bottom grass, and get behind trees, and then thur 

 would be a flash, and a crack, and the ball would 

 come tearin' in among us, sometimes burrowin' in a 

 human skull, or elsewise knockin' down a horse. 

 And all around, on the ridges, the squaws were a 

 dancin' and shoutin', and the braves, whenever any 

 of 'em got tired of shootin', would join their ugly 

 she's, and help 'em in kickin' up a hullabaloo. 



" I reckon, arter they 'd killed the last hoss, they 

 must ha' had a separate scalp-dance fur each one on 

 us. Plain sailin' then, ther red fellows thought — less 



