His horse, accustomed to the sport, went faster and faster, and neared the buffalo at every spring, till she suddenly turned the corner of the bank, now near the bottom of the ravine, and some fifty or sixty feet below the level of the prairie. The path that led down the ravine was a gradual descent, and on each side were some scattering trees and bushes.
When the bluff was rounded in pursuit of the buffalo, the animal was but a few yards ahead, and then, for the first time, a fair mark. Our hero was nearly ready to fire, when _whiz!_ went an arrow so near that there was no mistaking its sound, especially to one whose ear was practised in Indian warfare.
The arrow had scarcely ceased its whir, before a mounted Indian came down upon our buffalo hunter, from behind the bank of the ravine. His lance was poised in its "rest," with the butt of it firmly against his shoulder. The buffalo passed from sight, and the Indian instantly appeared; and before there was a moment for reflection, the "white hunter" had to "wink and hold out his iron."
The lance was a bright piece of steel, about twenty inches long, on a pole of some twelve feet in length. This murderous blade was aimed directly at his breast, and the two horses on a full run in opposite directions. Our contractor had nothing on but a pair of trousers, his red hunting shirt, and traveling cap.
The Indian, with the exception of some long feathers on his head, was naked to the waist. The savage observed the "law of the road," and took the right, and with one simultaneous and almost involuntary movement, the "pale face" dropped the bridle, and with his left arm parried the approaching blow by knocking the lance upward. The blade in its course ripped the hunting shirt, and tore the muscles from his shoulder; and simultaneously with this he fired his "Colt," and saw the blood spirt from the naked breast of the Indian. The slain warrior fell heavily to the ground, while the white man's horse turned suddenly to the right, and mounted the bank of the ravine, which was here so steep, that, having no longer a hold of the bridle, the rider came near tumbling backward.
The surface of the prairie was gained, and near two hundred yards measured off by the horse before the owner had time to gather his scattered thoughts. He attempted to grasp the bridle, but found his left arm quite powerless, not only from the wound on the shoulder, but the stunning effect of the lance on his fore-arm, near the wrist. With a rapid movement he plunged his pistol into the holster, and seizing the bridle with his right hand, drew up his horse and dismounted.