Antonio was snickering. Doc was cleaning his gun. I felt that something was up. This little valley here, there ain't anybody 'round here. But I got the strangest feeling, in my stomach. Not like I'm sick, er nothing. I looked around. I just don't understandit. My thinking was interrupted by a battle cry. We all turned to see a couple of Indians standing from the taller grass.
I grabbed my gun and started shooting. I was the best shot in the west. I hit one, the other was still standing. I was just about to fire again, when Bell screamed from behind me. I turned to see six more of them behind us.
One threw his knife. That one nearly got me in the eye! I shot that one. I shot the one that almost had Doc. In response he shot the one yelling and running towards us, the one I wasn't able to get to earlier. Butch got one in the stomach with his knife and stabbed him again in the chest. Bell got hold of my other gun and fired a few times at one. That one is done. Antonio got my shotgun and got the last two down.
When we were sure it was over, I walked over to Antonio. "I believe, that is mine." I said, snatching the gun out of his hands. He shrugged it off. "I see why you favor it so much, senior Charlie'." It was my dad's lucky gun. He had it for so long, and if I live that long, my kids are going to keep it. Butch wiped his knife on a Indian's clothes to get the blood off. "That's what you get when you sneak up on a Greendale."
I said, "Every-body start packing. We got cowboys to hunt. I spotted a camp, just a mile that way." I pointed to where. "We hit them, befur they wake up."
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