The Blackfeet Remained
Secure In Their Intrenchment.
At last Jim Beckwith lost patience.
"You are all fools and old women," he said to the Crows; "come with
me, if any of you are brave enough, and I will show you how to
fight."
He threw off his trapper's frock of buckskin and stripped himself
naked like the Indians themselves. He left his rifle on the ground,
and taking in his hand a small light hatchet, he ran over the prairie
to the right, concealed by a hollow from the eyes of the Blackfeet.
Then climbing up the rocks, he gained the top of the precipice behind
them. Forty or fifty young Crow warriors followed him. By the cries
and whoops that rose from below he knew that the Blackfeet were just
beneath him; and running forward, he leaped down the rock into the
midst of them. As he fell he caught one by the long loose hair and
dragging him down tomahawked him; then grasping another by the belt
at his waist, he struck him also a stunning blow, and gaining his
feet, shouted the Crow war-cry. He swung his hatchet so fiercely
around him that the astonished Blackfeet bore back and gave him room.
He might, had he chosen, have leaped over the breastwork and escaped;
but this was not necessary, for with devilish yells the Crow warriors
came dropping in quick succession over the rock among their enemies.
The main body of the Crows, too, answered the cry from the front and
rushed up simultaneously.
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