The Border King had turned his rifle now upon the Indian guards who were trying to head him off by blocking his way with the large herd of half-wild ponies which had been feeding in the valley. Indian ponies are not broken like those used by white men. They are pretty nearly wild all their days. The red man merely teaches his mount to answer to the pressure of his knees, and to the jerk of the single rawhide thong that is slipped around the brute’s lower jaw. And these lessons are further enforced by cruelty. The odor of a white person is offensive to an Indian pony. A white man has been known frequently to stampede a band of Indian mounts; and not infrequently the mob of wild creatures has turned upon the unfortunate paleface and trampled him to death under their unshod feet. Therefore, this opposition of the ponies was no small matter. They were a formidable barrier to Buffalo Bill’s successful arrival at the gate of the stockade fort. His rifle rattled forth lively, yet deadly, music, and his aim was wonderfully true for that of a man riding at full speed. Emptying the gun, he swung it quickly over his shoulder, and drawing the big cavalry pistols from their holsters the daring scout began to fairly mow a path through the herd of ponies. The slugs carried by the large-caliber pistols were as effective as the balls from his rifle. The mob of squealing, kicking, biting ponies broke before his charge, and swept on ahead of him. Another cheer from the watchers in the fort signaled this fact. The ponies were stampeding directly toward Fort Advance. “Out and line ’em up!” “We’ll corral the ponies if we kyan’t th’ Injuns!” “Throw open the gates!” commanded Major Baldwin, his voice heard above the tumult. The command was obeyed, and Captain Keyes and his men galloped out to meet the mob. In vain did the Indian guards try to head off the stampede. By having left their ponies in the valley where the grass was sweet and long, they had been caught in this trap. Instead of capturing Buffalo Bill it looked as though he and the other whites would capture the bulk of the Indian ponies! Oak Heart and the White Antelope, with a few mounted reds at their back, thundered across the level plain and up the rise toward the fort. But the pony herd and Buffalo Bill were well in the lead. The king of the border turned in his saddle, and waved his sombrero in mockery at the Indian chief. Then the ponies dashed into the gateway and were corraled, while the scout, still leading his packhorse, swept in behind them. “On guard, all! The redskins will charge on foot to try and get their ponies!” shouted the scout, as he came through the gate. His voice rose above the turmoil and brought the delighted men to their duty. Major Baldwin echoed Buffalo Bill’s advice, ordering everybody to their posts. “Be careful of the expenditure of powder and lead, men!” warned the major, from his stand on the platform. “Remember we are running short.”