I had begun to work Black Hawk out of the bunch to get a clear start
across the prairie at the turn, when I heard the guns begin snappin'
like pop-corn.

"They've started already," yelled Hollis, and we turned the rearin'
horses toward the river, three miles away, leavin' them two savages
tearin' down the track like mad.

I glanced back as I turned, but, instead of seein' the boys in the
midst of a decent retreat, the crowd was swarmin' after 'em like a
nest of angry hornets, while Donnelly, with his reins between his
teeth, was blazin' away at three reds who were right at Barrett's
heels as he ran for his horse. Martin was lashin' his jumpin' cayuse
away from the mob which sputtered and spit angry shots after him.
Bucks were runnin' here and there and hastily mountin' their
ponies--while an angry roar came to me, punctuated by the poppin' of
the guns.

Hollis and I reached the river and swam it half a mile ahead of the
others and their yellin' bunch of trailers, so we were able to
protect 'em in their crossin'.

I could see from their actions that Bennett and Martin was both hurt
and I judged the deal hadn't panned out exactly accordin' to
specifications.

The Crows didn't attempt to cross in the teeth of our fire, however,
being satisfied with what they'd done, and the horses safely brought
our three comrades drippin' up the bank to where we lay takin'