Buffalo Bill could not but admit that this view of the matter was a just one. He ought to abide by the general voice of his advisers, even though Dead Eye’s brief arguments had impressed him so strongly. He gave the word to follow the Shawnees at the best speed possible. After a few hours the trail left the level prairie and wound up into a range of foothills which led up into frowning mountains beyond. The scouts now knew, from the exceeding freshness of the trail, that they were almost on the heels of their enemies and might expect to catch sight of them at any moment. Suddenly, as they turned a corner of the broad but rough trail that led up into the hills, they were startled by a loud yell from Buffalo Bill, who, as usual, was riding in advance. “There they are!” he shouted. The Shawnees were not more than half a mile in advance. They were toiling slowly and painfully up the trail; for their horses were evidently much fatigued. Although they largely outnumbered the scouts, they tried to get away without a fight; but Buffalo Bill’s party gained on them so rapidly that they soon saw the attempt was vain and gave it up. As they turned and scattered out along the trail to take such cover as they could find, Buffalo Bill saw, to his chagrin and horror, that the two girls were not with them. “You were right, Dead Eye!” he said remorsefully, to the old Pawnee. “I ought to have insisted on taking your advice against that of all the others, as I was inclined to do.” “Ugh!” grunted the Indian. “Take scalps of Shawnees first--then go back and take scalps of others.” This was obviously the only course now to be adopted. Buffalo Bill gave the word to charge, and the scouts swept up the trail at a gallop, recking nothing of the hot but ill-directed fire of the Shawnees. The redskins had the advantage of position and numbers, but that was more than counterbalanced by the superior marksmanship of the scouts and the dash with which they made their assault. Buffalo Bill’s men had the great advantage of being the attackers, and under his fine leadership they took full benefit of it. Twice the number of Indians could hardly have withstood their furious charge. In a few minutes they were in the midst of the Shawnees, whose cover then availed them nothing. Several of the braves, their guns having been emptied vainly, tried to get at close quarters and use their deadly tomahawks; but they were shot down before they could do so. The fight was brief and bloody, but nearly the whole loss was sustained by the Shawnees. In a few minutes those who had escaped the first onslaught turned to retreat up the trail. The retreat was soon turned to a rout, and the rout into a veritable stampede. But, with their fagged ponies, the Indians could not escape the well-mounted scouts. They were ridden down, one after another, until only one man was left toiling far ahead on a spent horse up the mountain.