Free Lakota by G. Clifton Wisler Page B

long as there were brave hearts present, or until the enemy was driven off. Warriors preferred to count a coup, touch their bows to the enemy's shoulder, or slap him with the hand. White men who fired rifles were more often greeted with a deadly arrow fired from close range.
    Most wagon trains formed squares or circles to defend themselves, thus blunting the charges and offering little chance for a horseman to close the range. But that day the wagons rumbled along their way in ignorance of the menace at hand, and there would be few opportunities to resist. Wapaha Luta, in spite of his broken hip and much loss of blood, led the first charge. He raced toward the middle of the wagon train, followed by Watcher and Black Dog. The three warriors swept past a startled outrider, who was promptly unhorsed by the Dog, and turned three wagons aside. A terrified young girl ran in front of a second wagon and was trampled by oxen. A boy no older than Itunkala stared up in surprise as a lance struck him down.
    Wapaha Luta shouted a war cry, and the rest of the Lakotas charged. The wasicuns at the end of the wagon train had no chance to defend their wagons. Most abandoned everything and fled as fast as their feet would carry them. One man managed to load his rifle and fire at young Hokala, but while the blast gashed the tough hump hide of the shield, it left the warrior unharmed. Hinhan Hota struck the rifleman across the head, and he fell.
    Unkcekiha, the Magpie, was found in the back of a wagon. Frightened and bewildered, but unhurt, she rejoiced at the sight of her people.
    Hers was the only glad voice that day. The killing was great, with six white men slain and two women rubbed out, too. There was the trampled girl, too, and the boy killed by Wapaha Luta's lance. Already flames devoured several wagons, and the lumbering oxen were shot full of arrows. Then a line of wasicuns arrived from the front of the train, and they filled the air with their lead balls.
    Sunkcincala Najin, Standing Colt, whose sister was Red Lance's wife, fell first, pierced by five bullets. Then Sunka Sapa howled as a ball penetrated the neck of his horse and lodged in the fleshy part of his right thigh.
    Wapaha Luta, who did not know of his daughter's rescue, cried loudly as he hurled himself at the wasicuns. Bullets struck down the Lance's horse, then shattered his knee, broke his jaw, and severed three fingers from his left hand. Even so, the fiery-eyed warrior freed himself from his horse and struggled on. The whites drew back, but they managed to give the Lance two more wounds before breaking into flight. Only then did Wapaha Luta give up his life.
    "Look there," Hokala called then, and Tacante spied a pair of wasicuns sneaking toward Hinhan Hota from behind. Tacante shouted a cry, notched an arrow, and rode swiftly toward the ambushers. Hokala was only a hair behind him, and the two young men ran down the wasicuns. Hokala jumped down and fired an arrow through the first wasicun's chest, killing him instantly.
    Tacante took a bit longer dismounting. When his feet hit the ground, he found himself eyeing a thin-faced young man little older than himself. The wasicun fumbled with his pistol, and Tacante slapped it away. He then struck his enemy with the flat of the hand, and the young wasicun collapsed. His eyes were wild with fear, for he could see his companion lying dead a few feet away.
    "Don't come again onto our land!" Tacante shouted as he took the pistol and stripped the wasicun of his cartridge belt. "You understand?"
    The young enemy nodded. He attempted a smile, seeing that some miracle was allowing him to be spared.
    "Go!" Tacante shouted, and the wasicun scrambled to his feet and fled for his life.
    Now the fight was over. Warriors passed among the dead, counting coup or taking scalps. Only the hair of the trampled girl wasn't taken, for it seemed that Wakan Tanka had struck her down. In the distance the surviving wasicuns wailed as they watched their