The others paused where they were. Tomahawks, scalping-knives, spears, and revolvers--none of these would have checked the bold cowboys for a moment; but this stream of water was another matter.
It does not do for any cowboy, however desperate, to go home to his parents with his clothes soaking wet. Such events often mean an enforced retirement for a day from the field of glory.
"Whatcher doing?" screamed Peter Bailey. "That ain't fair!"
We felt that he was right. This garden hose suddenly springing out of the Western prairie was a false note. Artistically it jarred. It was like bringing a school-teacher into fairyland.
But we did not stop the stream. For once we saw the militant Peter, his fearless lieutenant, Rob Currier, and all the rest of the ever victorious army held in check. No feeling that we were violating the fitness of things could detract from the sweetness of the moment. If eternal defeat had not embittered us in the past, we might have been more artistic and less human on this occasion. But in an instant, and as by direct intervention of the gods, our retreat had been turned into triumph, and that we did not intend to relinquish.
"Aw, that's a _great_ thing to do!" sneered Rob Currier.
"You _can't_ do it!" shouted Joe Carter in a state of great excitement; "Indians don't have hose!"
"That's all right," I replied, "these Indians have got some. They got it from a settler's cabin, or--or--or _somehow_. Anyhow, they've got it."
"But 'tain't fair," reiterated Peter Bailey.
"'Tain't fair for five of you to be always masserkerin' us," remarked my fellow Indian.
Peter was disposed to bitterness. He did not enjoy having his military plans frustrated in such a manner.
"You're only a couple of babies,--you're afraid to be masserkered," he said.
Naturally, the babies invited him to come right on and do his massacring.
"I will, if you'll turn off that hose,--I don't want to get all wet."
"Course we won't turn it off, an' if you're afraid to come, why, you're beaten, an' you must surrender, an' be tomahawked, an' burned at the stake, an' have blazin' pine splinters stuck in your flesh. Will you do it?"
They firmly declined to become parties to any such attractive proceedings.