| Home | Mountain Game The Siege Two of the Indians fired rifles at Claude as he heard the fusee balls whistle by. With horse stopped and now facing the assault Claude took aim and fired, hitting an assailant. The party split apart with some still continuing their charge. Another Fusee whistled by. Claude now knew he had misjudged the time he had. Without removing the rod or lifting the rifle from his side he pointed the barrel at the two Indians approaching from the right and fired from the hip at the brave furthest back of the two, knocking him from the saddle. In a fortunate chain of events his ramrod had shattered upon the discharge of the weapon and a large section of the rod lodged itself in the left shoulder of the foremost rider, almost dropping him from his pony. He then drew his pistol from his belt and fired at his attackers from the left as a war lance grazed his right shoulder. The ball hit its mark and Claude spurred his horse forward when another rider drove his mount at full speed into Claude's animal, turning his ride and knocking his mount to its knees. The force of the impact caused Claude to drop his pistol and lose his balance as the attacker with battle-axe held high plunged forward over the top of his animal at the impact, hitting Claude in the chest, driving him from the saddle. Both hit the ground, but Claude was able to break free of his assailant, rolling to the side and away from his enemy at the same time pulling his knife. Jumping to their feet, facing each other, they then lunged in an all-out charge, both yelling a war cry. Claude collided with his foe blocking the downward swing of the tomahawk with his left forearm while driving his knife into the abdomen of his enemy lifting him off the ground with the force of his right shoulder’s impact. He then ripped the battle-axe from the dying man’s hand and turned to face two more riders charging in at full speed with bows ready. Both riders had held back some from the others of their party. Seeing Claude as a formidable enemy and not sure of his weaponry they rode the side of their mounts: one leg over the back of the horse, with bow at full draw under the animal’s neck. The Trapper had seen this type of attack before when in the company of eight others: trapped on a small wooded delta three years back. Half the enemy of about forty strong would ride using their horses as a shield to draw fire and get closer into bow range against a force of rifles while others approached the delta by stealth. It was a desperate battle that lasted several days, in one hundred-degree temperature. The White men’s horses had been killed early on and by the third day the smell of the rotting animals, gunpowder, human waste and dead comrades, was almost unbearable. Weak from feeding on raw rancid horse flesh, and an inability to get to the river during the day, Claude was selected on the third night to escape and get help before they were all too weak to travel. He had successfully evaded the enemy, but upon returning four days later with a party of twenty white trappers, found the mangled remains of the small group of hostages. Today Claude's chances of escape looked less probable. The horsemanship of Claude’s enemies was unmatched. The guerilla fighters were armed with horse and bow and he with only hand to hand weapons. Claude made a break for his horse as the two riders rode by at full gallop passing within a rod’s distance unloading their bows. Both missed as Claude reached his animal, grabbing the front of the saddle with both hands. The horse broke into a gallop as Claude jumped forward of the animal, with both his legs together, still hanging onto the front bridge of the saddle while being carried by the horse away from his enemy. The forward motion of the horse pivoted Claude's feet to the animal’s side as the man repeated his maneuver, jumping forward then swinging into the saddle. The enemy, upon missing their target swung upright into their saddles almost in unison. Reining their horses to a sliding stop with sod flying and back ends low the horses spun on their hind legs turning a full 180 degrees and broke out into pursuit of the quarry. Claude looked back over his left shoulder to see his short lead when his eye caught sight of a gray Appaloosa lifting its head up from the meadow’s grass. It was Jed’s horse. Claude had seen Jed being dragged. The animal must have gotten tripped up and gone down. Jed carried two pistols on his saddle and perhaps Jed’s rifle was still in its boot. He hoped they were still there. Claude slid his left hand down his animal’s neck taking the rein and turned his mount to the left. His enemy was gaining with bows drawn. Time was short. Claude slipped his left stirrup and swung to the right side of his horse; no sense presenting a full target to his enemy as he rode the side of his animal. Without stopping Claude jumped from his horse with a roll and reached the Appaloosa jumping over the fallen animal. A pistol was still in its boot and Claude pulled it taking aim at the lead rider. Both slowed their charge then broke off the attack. Claude stood up calling the men yellow dogs, but to no use as the enemy had had enough; or so he thought. The trapper tucked the pistol in his belt and bent over wrenching Jed’s rifle from under the fallen Appaloosa. He then spotted the second pistol in the dirt some distance away. Turning around, his animal had stopped by a line of trees not two rods distance. Looking back at his enemy he realized what they were up to and with out thinking redrew and leveled the pistol and fired. As luck would have it, considering the range, one of the mounts pitched: throwing its rider. Claude ran for the other pistol and on retrieving it broke into a run for his animal at the line of trees. The fallen rider was back up in moments, riding behind his comrade, but decided against pursuit and lazily rode back across the meadow after other loose horses. Claude paused for a moment to reload the pistol when a strange view caught his eye. It was across the meadow moving at a swift pace in the direction of the enemy. The grass was separating in two rows like a narrow breeze parting the field, yet there was no wind. Like a small but wide animal was hidden in the knee high grass, crawling and flattening its path in a straight line, yet the speed was too great for an animal to be crawling and hidden. Then one of the lines broke off the other, a sharp change of direction moving toward him. This was eerie as hair on the back of Claude's neck lifted. |
All content of this site is copyrighted
by G. C. O'Dell 2003-2006
|
