Chaske noiselessly slipped a cartridge into the chamber of his gun,
threw it into action and took deliberate aim at the smaller one's
breast. A loud report rang out and the one he had aimed at threw
up his arms and fell heavily forward, shot through the heart.
Reloading quickly Chaske stepped out from behind the tree. He
could easily have killed the other from his concealed position,
but, being a brave young man, he wanted to give his opponent a fair
chance. The other had unslung his gun and a duel was then fought
between the two lone combatants. They would spring from side to
side like two great cats. Then advance one or two steps and fire.
Retreat a few steps, spring to one side and fire again. The
bullets whistled past their heads, tore up the earth beneath their
feet, and occasionally one would hit its mark, only to cause a
flesh wound.
Suddenly the enemy aimed his gun and threw it upon the ground. His
ammunition was exhausted, and slowly folding his arms he stood
facing his opponent, with a fearless smile upon his face, expecting
the next moment to fall dead from a bullet from the rifle of
Chaske. Not so. Chaske was too honorable and noble to kill an
unarmed man, and especially one who had put up such a brave fight
as had this man. Chaske advanced and picked up the empty gun. The
Toka (enemy) drew from a scabbard at his belt a long bowie knife,
and taking it by the point handed it, handle first, to Chaske.
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