At a full gallop, he turned the horse down through a twisting dry wash. The braves fired old single-shot Henry rifles. Dirt kicked off the sandy cliffs next to Hickok. Another group of five warriors dashed along the cliffs above Hickok as he bent over the stocky mustang’s neck and fired his Dragoon Colt—given to him by Christopher “Kit” Carson in 1859, in Santa Fe—at them.
A teenage brave with his face and body painted for war screamed in agony when the bullet tore through his neck. He pitched backward off his mount and tumbled down into the wash, where the sharp hooves of his friends’ half-wild ponies finished the job.
They ignored his mangled body as they dug their heels into the sides of their horses. The gap between them and the white man, whose long, yellow they coveted, was closing.
Hickok turned in the saddle and killed two more Sioux behind him. Those riding above forced their ponies down the sandstone cliffs straight at him. The two groups closed in on him.
An arrow smacked into the saddle just behind Hickok’s left leg. He whirled and killed another warrior just as he was leaping from his pony at Hickok. As he reined his horse around a bend, three more Sioux rushed at him on foot.
He fired twice, killing two of them. The third warrior shoved a long lance up at Hickok, spearing him in the thigh. Hickok ran the man down with his horse.
Four warriors on horseback closed in on Hickok. His horse charged at two of them running down riders and ponies. He clubbed a third with his pistol, then shot the last one through the heart. He galloped away, the spear still sticking out of his leg.
Later, he rode slowly through a stand of trees. Blood ran down his leg and the mustang. He reined up and slid painfully to the ground, limped over to a rock and sat down against it.
He looked around for possible Indians. Seeing none, he took the spear in both hands, sucked in several quick breaths, and yanked. The agony double him over. He knew then that the stone spearhead was embedded in the femur.
He breathed deeply, waiting for the pain to subside. He took his rawhide bullet pouch from his waist and slipped it between his teeth. He took several quick breaths, clutched the spear again and pulled with all his strength. The pain seared through him and he closed his eyes in agony, but he continued to pull. His teeth cut through the rawhide pouch. Finally, the spear broke free from the bone and he threw it aside.
Then he passed out.
The Kid and Wild Bill is available on Amazon.
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