Bill Dugan_War Chiefs 04

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Authors: Quanah Parker
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Westerns
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mouth, and heard a yip. The thunder of hooves erupted then, and what seemed to him like a hundred ponies dashed out of the pines and rumbled past him on the way to the fort.
    Once more, he saw a lance high overhead, its blade glittering in the sunlight, then saw it plummet toward him. He heard the sound of the lance hitting home, felt the pain as a warrior leaned his weight into the thrust, then saw the jumble of pony legs as the other warriors leaned over to stab at him with their own lances.
    At the gate, Elder Parker struggled to get it closed, but the first warriors reached it and shoved it aside, knocking him to the groundbefore he was able to move the heavy log into place.
    The warriors were shrieking now, racing their horses around the inside of the small palisade. Elder John got to his feet and grabbed at a warrior as he rumbled past, dragging him from his mount. Furious, he leaped on the Indian, but felt something slash at him from behind and turned to see that another warrior had dismounted and come to the aid of his unhorsed comrade.
    He saw Granny running toward the house, calling to the children. He never even felt the slice of the blade as it slit his throat. Granny, too, was knocked to the ground. Scrambling on all fours, she saw the Indians leaping from their horses and swarming around the houses. Already, smoke was beginning to spew out of the buildings as Comanche rousted the inhabitants. A few gunshots rang out, but the muskets were too difficult to load for close fighting, and soon the defenders were reduced to using the heavy guns as clubs, wielding them by the barrels and lashing out with the heavy wooden stocks.
    Granny felt something strike her in the back, and she collapsed on the ground. A moment later, she heard the rasp as the lance was pushed all the way through her shoulder and driven into the dirt beneath her. Desperately, she clawed at it, but her strength was ebbing quickly. She saw Sarah Hardee running from her log house, several Comanche in pursuit. The children were running aimlessly, crying and trying to hide.
    Once more, Granny tried to get up, but she was too weak, and lay there pinned like a butterfly on velvet as the chaos she feared, and that her husband had refused to acknowledge, swirled around her. The houses were all in flames now, and the Indians seemed to be tiring of their sport.
    Several sprang back onto their mounts and raced out of the fort, nearly trampling her as they thundered past. The air was filled with a thick pall of smoke. She heard shouts in English, and the report of a musket, as the men from the fields raced, too late, to defend their homes and families.
    She kept looking around, trying to see through the smoke. Weakly, she cried out for Cynthia Ann and John, but no one answered her feeble cries. A moment later, she saw an Indian racing toward one corner of her house. Flames were already licking up the front wall, and smoke billowed out of the broken window. The door had been shattered and dangled from a single hinge. Tongues of flame lapped at it through the opening, and she saw Cynthia Ann then, darting from the house and rushing toward the stable. But a Comanche saw her, too, and raced toward her, leaning far over the side of his pony. The warrior snaked an arm around the girl’s waist and hauled her up into his lap.
    Wheeling the pony, the warrior dashed past, and Granny reached out a hand toward CynthiaAnn’s flailing arms, but a moment later pony, warrior, and grandchild all were gone. A few seconds later, John was captured. He was crying for his mother as his captor dangled him by his arms trying to get him draped over the pony’s neck. As soon as he felt his captive secure, the burly warrior dug his heels in and the pony broke into a gallop for the open gate.
    Granny lay there, her hands curled into fists full of dust until the clouds of pain drifted over her. Soon, she was conscious only of the horrible pain in her shoulder. Then that, too, mercifully

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