There was a distance of many rods between the two contending parties. The ground was mainly level, and there was no underbrush to intercept the view. The trappers saw and understood the movement for the charge. Every man was prepared, with his loaded rifle and revolver. On came the Indians, dodging, as they could, from tree to tree, but with an impetuosity of onset which excited the admiration of their opponents. The forest resounded with their shrill war-whoop. Carson requested every man to withhold his fire until sure of his aim. "Let not a single shot," said he, "be lost." It was a fearful moment, for upon that moment depended the life of every man in the party. Should the outnumbering Indians succeed in passing the narrow intervening space, the trappers would inevitably be overpowered and from the spear-heads of the savages, forty-three scalps would be waved as the banners of their victory. There was no simultaneous discharge but a rattling fire, occupying perhaps sixty seconds. Forty-three Indian warriors were struck by the bullets. Eleven fell instantly dead; the others were more or less crippled by their wounds. Still the brave Indians rushed on, when suddenly there was opened upon them another deadly fire from the revolvers. This was a reinforcement of the strength of their foes which the savages had not anticipated. They hesitated, staggered as if smitten by a heavy blow, and then slowly and sullenly retreated, until they were far beyond pistol range. Some of the mountaineers were on horseback to carry swift aid to any imperilled comrade. Kit Carson was also mounted and with his eagle eye was watching every act of his little army. One of his aids, a mountaineer by the name of Cotton, was thrown from his horse, which slipped upon some smooth stones, and fell upon his rider, fastening him helpless to the ground. Six Indians near by rushed, with exultant yells and gleaming tomahawks, for his scalp. Kit Carson, calling on two or three to follow him, sprang from his horse and with the speed of an antelope was by the side of his fallen comrade. The crack of his rifle was instantly heard; the foremost of the savages gave one convulsive bound, uttered a death cry and fell weltering in his blood. The rest immediately fled, but before they could reach a place of safety three more were struck down by the balls of those who had followed Carson. Two only of the six savages escaped. CHAPTER VIII. Encampments and Battles. The Renewal of the Battle.--Peculiarities of the Fight.--The Rout.--Encampment in the Indian Village.--Number of Trappers among the Mountains.--The New Rendezvous.--Picturesque Scene of the Encampment.--The Missionary and the Nobleman.--Brown's Hole.--The Navajoes.--Kit Carson Purveyor at the Fort.--Trapping at the Black Hills.--Again upon the Yellowstone.--Pleasant Winter Quarters.--Signs of the Indians.--Severe Conflict.--Reappearance of the Indians.--Their utter Discomfiture.