Out on the Pampas; Or, The Young SettlersHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
Out on the Pampas; Or, The Young Settlers
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Pampas (Argentina) -- Juvenile fiction
So terrible was the destruction which the continued fire wrought among
the leaders, that the others instinctively checked the speed of their
horses as they approached the little group, from which fire and balls
seemed to stream, and began to discharge arrows at the boys, hanging on
the other side of their horses, so that by their foes they could not be
seen, a favourite manoeuvre with the Indians. As the boys fired their
last barrels, they drew their revolvers from the holsters, and, taking
aim as the Indians showed a head or an arm under their horses' necks or
over their backs, their twelve barrels added to the Indians scattered
over the ground.
'Now, Hubert, give me the two last revolvers, and put the two fresh
chambers into the carbines.'
Seeing only one of their foes on the defence, the Indians again made a
rush forward. Charley shot the two first with a revolver, but the others
charged up, and he stooped a moment to avoid a spear, rising a little on
one side, and discharging with both hands his pistols at the Indians,
who were now close. 'Quick, Hubert,' he said, as he shot with his last
barrel an Indian who had just driven his spear into the heart of Mr.
Hardy's horse.
The animal fell dead as it stood, and the Indians with a yell charged
at the opening, but, as they did so, Hubert slipped a carbine into his
brother's hand, and the two again poured in the deadly fire which had so
checked the Indians' advance.
The continuation of the fire appalled the Indians, and the seven that
survived turned and fled.
'I will load, Hubert,' Charley said, trying to speak steadily. 'See to
papa at once. Empty one of the water-gourds upon his face and head.'
Hubert looked down with a cold shudder. Neither of the boys had dared to
think during that brief fight. They had had many falls before on the
soft turf of the Pampas, but no hurt had resulted, and both were more
frightened at the insensibility of their father than at the Indian
horde, which were so short a distance away, and which would no doubt
return in a few minutes in overwhelming force.
Great, then, was Hubert's delight, when, upon looking round, he saw that
Mr. Hardy had raised himself with his arms.
'What has happened?' he said in a confused manner.
'Are you hurt, papa?' Hubert asked, with tears of joy running down his
face; 'you frightened us both so dreadfully. Please drink a little
water, and I will pour a little over your face.'
Mr. Hardy drank some water, and Hubert dashed some more in his face.
'That will do, Hubert,' he said with a smile; 'you will drown me. There,
I am all right now. I was stunned, I suppose. There you are,' and he got
up on to his feet; 'you see I am not hurt. And now, where are the
Indians?'
'There, papa,' said the boys with pardonable triumph, as they pointed to
thirteen dead Indians.
Their father could not speak. He grasped their hands warmly. He saw how
great the danger must have been, and how gallantly his boys must have
borne themselves.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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