"What's got into you, Beau? You know them savages better'n me. You know their temper. They're prob'ly sittin' amongst the sage right now, havin' their little laugh against us, waitin' for us to bolt like hares driven before coyotes. It's our weapons, they're after. Our weapons and our powder."
"But what happens to me, Mr. Bonner? Did you see that in your dreams?"
"To hells with dreams! It's blood were talkin' about now." Gunther grunted for his bulk as he maneuvered to gather his things. At last ready to venture outside, all his weapons easily at hand, he added, "I've been through this before. It's to be a fight to the death between us and them, make no mistake. Nothin' else will do. For myself, I plan to make a war of it. The only way those devils will get my powder is on the discharge. Now you others, you just keep cool, keep quiet, and keep to me, maybe I can get us through this mess, too. Whatever you do, load fast. You got that boy? Load fast."
"Don't worry about me, Gunther. I'll do whatever you say."
Beau gulped a breath and swallowed his rising fear unashamedly. Palming his revolver and cinching the sling of his rifle higher on his shoulder, he gasped, "I'm on the mark, now. I'll go first. We'll set up around the tent to scout the land, then we'll make our way along the ridge if we can."