"Now, Hubert, give me the two last revolvers, and put the two fresh
chambers into the carbines."
Seeing only one of their foes on the defense, the Indians again
made a rush forward. Charley shot the two first with a revolver,
but the others charged up, and he stooped a moment to avoid a
spear, rising a little on one side, and discharging with both hands
his pistols at the Indians, who were now close. "Quick, Hubert," he
said, as he shot with his last barrel an Indian who had just driven
his spear into the heart of Mr. Hardy's horse.
The animal fell dead as it stood, and the Indians with a yell
charged at the opening, but as they did so Hubert slipped a carbine
into his brother's hand, and the two again poured in the deadly
fire which had so checked the Indians' advance.
The continuation of the fire appalled the Indians, and the seven
that survived turned and fled.
"I will load, Hubert," Charley said, trying to speak steadily. "See
to papa at once. Empty one of the water-gourds upon his face and
head."
Hubert looked down with a cold shudder. Neither of the boys had
dared to think during that brief fight. They had had many falls
before on the soft turf of the pampas, but no hurt had resulted,
and both were more frightened at the insensibility of their father
than at the Indian horde which were so short a distance away, and
which would no doubt return in a few minutes in overwhelming force.
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