learned how men are disconcerted in battle by a multiplicity of
directions. So he sat quietly on his horse, revolver in hand, his
blue-black eyes staring angrily at the coming storm.

"Kelly, reserfe your fire!" yelled Meyer. "Recruits,
ready--bresent--aim--aim low--fire!"

Simultaneously with the report a horse in the leading group of charging
savages pitched headlong on his nose and rolled over, sending his rider
straight forward into a rubble of loose shales, both lying as they fell,
without movement. Half a dozen other animals either dropped on their
haunches or sheered violently to the right and left, going off in wild
plunges and caracolings. By this one casualty the head of the attacking
column was opened and its seemingly resistless impetus checked and
dissipated, almost before Meyer could shout, "Recruits, load at will,
load!"

A moment previous this fiery cavalry had looked irresistible. It seemed to
have in it momentum, audacity, and dash enough to break a square of
infantry or carry a battery of artillery. The horses fairly flew; the
riders had the air of centaurs, so firm and graceful was their seat; the
long lances were brandished as easily as if by the hands of footmen; the
bows were managed and the arrows sent with dazzling dexterity. It was a
show of brilliant equestrianism, surpassing the feats of circus riders.
But a single effective shot into the centre of the column had cleft it as
a rock divides a torrent. It was like the breaking of a water-spout.

The attack, however, had only commenced. The Indians who had swept off to
right and left went scouring along the now motionless train, at a distance
of sixty or eighty yards, rapidly enveloping it with their wild caperings,