The unequal struggle now
commenced, and loud war-whoops rung through the valley. Arrows flew
constantly from foe to foe. The Pawnees, having a great superiority
in numbers, succeeded oftenest in wounding their adversaries. Still
they gained not upon them; the Osages, though soon severely hurt,
preserving the same undaunted front, and returning their missiles
with unabated vigour.
At length, however, their arrows were spent, and clutching their
tomahawks, the friends, casting a glance of stern but undying
affection on each other, prepared to die like men. On came the
Pawnees, yelling the fearful war-whoop, and waving their hatchets on
high. Already were a dozen of them within a few yards of the devoted
trio, when their yell was echoed from the forest, and three of their
foremost warriors lay low, slain by a flight of arrows from the top
of the ravine. Back turned the Pawnees to their shelter, while the
Osages, taking advantage of the confusion, snatched the usual trophy
of victory from their fallen foes, and then, catching their steeds,
mounted and fled.
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