half blue. Most of them wore, in addition to the regular attire
of the plains Indians, a leather jacket, and from the heels of their
moccasins trailed tassels, another mark of their tribe.

These warriors, magnificent specimens of manhood and superb horsemen,
appeared to be gigantic as they paused and spread out along the crest of
the hill, boldly outlined against the bright sky behind them. They
watched the running circle of wagons stop by jerks as vehicle after
vehicle crowded against the one ahead of it and came to a stand, the
teams inside the corral. They rode slowly down the hill, their numbers
constantly growing, as a line of defenders moved out from the encampment
to interpose itself between the camp and the Comanche warriors; and as
the line stopped to wait for the cannons to get into position the red
enemy charged with a bedlam of whoops and yells. The two quick roars of
the cannons and the hurtling solid shot, which raised dust-puffs high up
on the hill, checked them and they spread out into two thin lines of
racing horsemen running toward both sides of the encampment.

Woodson, glad that the cannoneers had missed in their panicky aim,
ordered the defenders to fall back to the wagons, which they were only
too glad to do; but they did not obey his command to cease firing, and
sent their hastily aimed balls in the general direction of the enemy. No
harm was done by these, not only because of the poor aim but also
because the racing Indians were as yet well out of rifle shot and were
hanging over on the far side of their mounts.

Tom ran to the frantically working cannoneers and threw himself among
them without regard to how he handled them, shouting for them not to
fire until Woodson gave the word, and then to load with musket balls and
fire as fast and true as they could. Franklin joined him, his face as
black as a thunder cloud, and made threats they knew he would carry out
if the instructions were not obeyed.

The racing line drew nearer and nearer, those of the warriors who had
guns discharging them into the air. It looked like a desperate fight was
only a few seconds away when Hank yelled his discovery. Over the crest
of the same hill appeared the women and children of the tribe, their
dogs dragging burdens on their small travoises and the horses pulling
the dragging lodgepoles loaded down with the possessions of their
owners. This meant peace, for if war was intended, all but the warriors
would have be