The Indian whose spear was still free caught a bullet through the shoulder, dropped his weapon, and circled away yelling.

Then Thurstane plunged at the other, reared his tall horse over him, broke the lance-shaft with a violent twist, and swung his long cavalry sabre.

It was in vain that the Apache crouched, spurred, and skedaddled; he got away alive, but it was with a long bloody gash down his naked back; the last seen of him he was going at full speed, holding by his pony's mane.

The Lieutenant remained master of the whole front of the caravan.
Meantime there was a busy popping along the flankers and through the hinder openings in the second line of wagons.

The Indians skurried, wheeled, pranced, and yelled, let fly their arrows from a distance, dashed up here and there with their lances, and as quickly retreated before the threatening muzzles.