CHAPTER XV.
A Fierce Battle with the Blackfeet--Daring Act of Kit Carson--Arrival of the Reserves and End of the Battle.
When near the head waters of the Missouri, the trappers discovered theywere approaching the principal village of the Blackfeet. They determinedto attack and punish the Indians who had caused them so much troubleand suffering; but the whites were so numerous and powerful that extremecare was necessary to prevent their presence becoming known.
When a number of miles from the village, the trappers came to a halt,and Kit Carson with several men was sent forward to reconnoitre. Withextreme caution they made their way to a point from which they couldoverlook the village.
A glance showed the Indians hurriedly making ready to move elsewhere.The shrewd red men had discovered their danger before their enemiescaught sight of them. Carson galloped back as rapidly as he could, andmade known what had been seen. A council was hastily called and abouthalf the company advanced to give the Blackfeet battle. Kit Carson, asmight be supposed, was made the leader. The others were to guard theproperty, advance slowly and act as reserve, which could be hurriedforward should it become necessary.
As agreed upon, Kit Carson galloped ahead, and the moment his men camein sight of the village, they dashed through it, killing a numberof warriors. The others slowly fell back, fighting as they went, andwithout showing the least panic. They received charge after charge ofthe white men, with the steadiness of veterans. By and by the eagernessof the trappers reduced their ammunition and their firing became lessdestructive. The Blackfeet were quick to perceive the cause, and in turnthey charged upon their assailants who became immediately involved ina desperate hand to hand fight. It was then the small arms in thepossession of the whites played their part. They were used with sucheffect, that the fierce warriors were compelled once more to retreat.
But the courageous red men recoiled a short distance only, when theyhalted and then, with exultant yells, dashed toward the trappers, whodespite all they could do, were forced back until it looked as if thewhole party would be overwhelmed and destroyed.
On this retreat, one of the horses belonging to the hunters was shot,and plunged to the ground so suddenly that his rider was caught beforehe could spring from the saddle. Several of the warriors were quick toperceive his sore straits, and dashed toward him, eager to secure hisscalp. The poor fellow struggled desperately, but could not extricatehimself, and his expression of horrified despair when he perceived thefierce red men running a race with each other to reach him, would havemelted the heart of almost any one.
Carson was several rods distant, but seeing the danger of his friend,he bounded out of his saddle, and shouted to the others to rally to thedefence of their imperilled comrade. Kit raised his rifle while on therun and shot the leading warrior dead. The other whites were so closebehind that the remaining Blackfeet whirled and ran for their lives.Several of them were shot down before they could reach the shelter ofthe rocks from behind which they sprang after the fallen white man.
Carson's devotion to his friend now placed him in an unpleasant if notdangerous situation. His steed being without restraint, galloped offbeyond his reach, and the commander was thus left on foot, when therewas urgent need that he should be mounted.
Meanwhile the mountaineer who was caught under the body of his horse,was struggling desperately to withdraw his imprisoned leg, for there wasno saying when the Blackfeet would be upon him again. He succeeded atlast, and, standing upon his feet, shook himself together, as may besaid, and he found that though pretty badly bruised, no bones werebroken, and he was able to do his full part in the serious duty beforehim.
The exciting episode benefited the trappers in one respect: it served tocheck the seemingly resistless rush of the Blackfeet and gave the othersa chance to rally and fix upon some course of action.
Carson ran rapidly toward the nearest horseman and sprang upon the backof his animal behind him. The steed was forced to his best and speedilyjoined the main body a short distance off. It was fortunate that just atthat moment there came a lull in the furious fighting, else Carson couldscarcely have escaped so well. The runaway horse was pursued by oneof the mountaineers who finally cornered and brought him back to theirleader.
The Blackfeet did not follow the whites, nor did the latter return totheir charge against them. Both parties had gained a thorough taste ofeach other's mettle, and the conclusion reached was like that of twotrained pugilists--their strength was so nearly equal that neither couldafford to throw away his advantage by leading in the assault.
Undoubtedly Carson and his men would have withdrawn but for the hopethat the reserves were close at hand. The trappers had fought valiantlybut not more so than the Indians, who still possessed plenty ammunitionwhile that of the whites was nearly exhausted. Had they advanced andencountered the warriors again, the latter would have swept everythingbefore them. As it was, the mountaineers were by no means safe even whenacting on the defensive. If the red men should charge upon them withtheir old time fierceness, it was by no means certain they wouldnot destroy the whites. The fight would necessarily be of the mostsanguinary nature, but when guns and small arms were useless for lackof ammunition, nothing short of a miracle could save them fromannihilation.
Several hours had gone and Carson and his men wondered what could delaythe reserves. Time always passes slowly to those in waiting, and to someof the hunters the tardiness of their friends was unaccountable. Carsonwas on the point of sending messengers back to hurry them forward, whenthe whole party appeared and the situation changed.
But those who expected the Blackfeet to flee in panic when they observedthe doubling of the assailing forces, were much mistaken. The feelingamong the Indians could not be described as in the least "panicky."They quietly surveyed the new arrivals and prepared with the coolnessof veterans for the conflict that was sure to come, within the next fewminutes.
The powder was distributed among the trappers, who were more eager thanever to attack their old enemies, who were as ready as they for theconflict. Nearly two hundred yards separated the combatants, whenthe mountaineers, leaving their horses behind, advanced on foot. TheBlackfeet stationed themselves behind rocks and trees and defiantlyawaited the attack.
In a few minutes the most savage fight of the day was raging. A hundredrifles were flashing in every direction and the yells of the red menmingled with the shouts of the excited mountaineers.
As the warriors had used every means to shelter themselves, it wasnecessary to dislodge them before they could be driven back. Withoutremaining together in a compact mass, the trappers made for them withthe fierceness of tigers.
The result of this charge were a number of remarkable combats. A hunterwould dash at a warrior crouching behind some rock, and the two wouldbegin dodging, advancing, retreating, firing, striking and manoeuveringagainst each other. Sometimes one would succeed and sometimes the other.The Blackfoot, finding the situation becoming too hot, would breakfor other cover and probably would be shot on the run or would escapealtogether. Again, it would be the white man who would be just a secondtoo late in discharging his gun and would pay the penalty with his life.
At last the Indians began falling back and the mountaineers pushing themhard, they finally broke and fled in a wild panic, leaving many deadbehind them. On the part of the trappers three had been killed and quitea number badly wounded.