Not one of them blanched or talked of backing.

They did not even think of surrender.

It would have been too late to sue for mercy, had they been so inclined.
But they were not.

Attacked without provocation, and treacherously, as they had been, their fury was stronger than their fear; and anger now nerved them to frenzied energy of action.
The savages had already closed around the waggons, clustering upon the wheels, some like snakes, wriggling through the spaces left undefended.
Rifles ceased to ring; but pistols cracked--repeating pistols, that dealt death at every shot, sending redskin after redskin to the happy hunting grounds.

And by the pistol's flash blades were seen gleaming through the smoke--now bright, anon dimmed, and dripping blood.
For every white man that fell, at least three red ones went down upon the sand.
The unequal contest could not long continue.