The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-12-26
THE MORNING NEWS: WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1888

for five painted warriors had gone
down, their death cry ringing out and
mingling with the dog-like snarls of several
who were wounded. The Indians returned
the fire, and the three white mon fell. Old
Pat saw the fight from his retreat in the
rocks. His mind had undergone a great
change in regard to the man from Boston,
and as the savages rushed in to scalp the
three fallen men his own deadly Winchester
came to his shoulder, the sights caught the
dusky form of a big Indian known as Black
Scar Just in the act of scalping Korison.
The rifle belched forth its messenger of
death, and a red fiend sprang high into the
air, then sank down, still and dead, shot
through the heart. But it was not Black
Scar, but another redskin, who, rushing
forward to try for the scalp of Korison, met
his own well-deserved fate from the sure
aim of Pat. With yells Of fury the Indians
left the three PROSTATE forms to attack their
more formidable enemy, and from the belts
of three bucks dangled the bloody scalps of
three whites.
Hennessy was we'll prepared for defense,
| an immense rock behind, rocks at the side
and in front also, which was the only point
where an attack could be made, and there
| over the rock cleaned with deadly menace
| his sixteen-shot Winchester. Swift now
and hot the fight. Over 800 against one,
| but that one cool, determined, desperate, a
| host in himself Into the advancing horde
GO the rifle balls on errands of death, killing
| and wounding as they tear through the red
| ranks. With insane courage the savages
rush up within ten yards of the rocks. Pat
| no longer sights his gun; he rests it on
rock, cocks it with one hand, and pulls the
| lever and trigger with the other. and point
| blank into the red devils he sends
an almost continuous stream of leaden
| hail. That terrible fire is too much
| for Indian bravery to face. They waver,
| break, retreat, but only for a moment. The
chief has been killed, but Black Scar takes
command, waves aloft the scalp of Korison,
points to the dead braves, calls for ven
geance and orders the fight to be renewed.
| This time the attack is made in front and
at both sides. IL they can scale the rock at
| the sides, Pat will be at their mercy. From
the death-dealinS point in front the good
| old Winchester again pours forth its terri
BILE destruction, causing the Indians TO break
| for the sides, where they attempt to climb
| up the overhanging rocks. They fail in this,
| and, at the loud command of Black Scar,
| surge round in front, face to face with their
desperate foe. Pats revolver, self-cocker,
| does deadly work, fired into the yelling mass
| ten feet away, but the last load is gone, and
again the Winchester at close range covers
| the ground with dead and dying
Whether the great white brave is wounded
or not no one will ever know. The red
monsters are forced back from that death
vomiting rock, back from a single gun,
| back from one man, back from brave Pat
| Hennessy In few moments the whole
band would have fed, when suddenly the
| firing ceased. Pats gun had become so
dirty and hot by constant firing that, hor-
| rible to relate, while he was trying to put
| in cartridge it stuck fast and could be
| forced neither in nor out. The Indians
| supposed he was out of ammunition, and
| with savage yels rushed in to secure their
| great prize. Pat met them with dubbed
gun, and broken heads and bones were
plenty as they came within sweep of his
strong arms in the death struggle,
bat those behind still pressed on and he
was soon over powered ard secured.
Infatuated at the loss OF so many
of their number they took POOR Pat tore
his scalp from his head, bound him to one
of his own wagon wheels, emptied sacks of
oats around him and set them on fire. just
as they commenced their devilish torture
and dance around their victim, they heard
| a shot echo from the distance. The alarm
was raised that the soldiers were coming,
| and stampede at once began. Picking up
| the wounded and some of the dead, the
| Indians mounted their horses and scamp
cred OBJ.
The evening shades gathered darkly and
all was still as the fire burned, and the
spirit of brave Pat passed away and found
rest in the land of the hereafter.
There he was buried the next day by
some other fighters. The bodies OIL thirty
dead Indians were also found and were
afterward removed by their red brothers.