She
called out as though he were a young dog at his first fight. "Whoopee!
Git to him, boy, git to him! Take him, boy! Whoopee!"
We got Andrew Jackson back into the ranks. His mother stepped to him and
took him by the hand, as though for the first time she recognized him as
a man.
"Now, boy, _that's_ somethin' _like_." Presently she turned to me. "Some
says it's in the Paw," she remarked. "I reckon it's some in the Maw; an'
a leetle in the trainin'."
Cut up badly by our fire, the Sioux scattered and hugged the shelter of
the river bank, beyond which they rode along the sand or in the shallow
water, scrambling up the bank after they had gotten out of fire. Our men
were firing less, frequently at the last of the line, who came swiftly
down from the bluff and charged across behind us, sending in a
scattering flight of arrows as they rode.
I looked about me now at the interior of our barricade. I saw Ellen
Meriwether on her knees, lifting the shoulders of a wounded man who lay
back, his hair dropping from his forehead, now gone bluish gray. She
pulled him to the shelter of a wagon, where there had been drawn four
others of the wounded. I saw tears falling from her eyes--saw the same
pity on her face which I had noted once before when a wounded creature
lay in her hands.
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