Christine Blashford
speaker
728 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Jul 2026
last heard 21 Jul
Christine Blashford’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Jul 2026 with 1.
Appearances
Then it was thrilling to watch them veering, circling, sweeping to right or left, ever at furious gallop, throwing their lithe painted bodies behind their chargers' necks, clinging with one leg and arm, barely showing so much as an eyelid, yet yelping and screeching like so many coyotes, and
Not one of their number coming within four hundred yards of the slender fighting line in the stream bed.
Some of them, indeed disdaining to stoop, riding defiantly along the front, firing wildly as they rode, yet surely and gradually guiding their ponies back to the higher ground, back out of harm's way.
And in five minutes from the time they had flashed into view, coming charging over the mile away ridge, not a red warrior was left on the low ground, only three or four luckless ponies kicking in their last struggles or stiffening on the turf, while their riders, wounded or unhurt, had been picked up and spirited away with the marvellous skill only known to these warriors of the plains.
Then Ray and his men had time to breathe and shout laughing comment and congratulation.
Not one as yet was hit or hurt.
They were secure for the time in a strong position, and had signally whipped off the first assault of the Sioux.
Loudly, excitedly, angrily these latter were now conferring again far up the slope to the north.
At least a hundred in one concourse, they were having hot discussion over the untoward result of the dash.
Others, obedient to orders from the chief, were circling far out to east and west and crossing the valley above and below the position of the defence.
Others still were galloping back to the ridge, where against the skyline, strong bodies of warriors could be plainly seen, moving excitedly to and fro.
Two little groups, slowly making their way to the crest, gave no little comfort to the boys in blue.
Some, at least, of the charging force had been made to feel the bite of the cavalry weapon and were being borne to the rear.
But no time was to be wasted.
Already from far up the stream bed two or three Indians were hazarding long range shots at the grove, and Ray ordered all horses into a bend of the wash, where the sidelines were whipped from the blanket straps and the excited sorrels securely hoppled.
Then here, there, and in a score of places along the bank, and again at the edge of the cottonwoods, men had been assigned their stations and bidden to find cover for themselves without delay.
Many burrowed in the soft and yielding soil, throwing the earth forward in front of them.
Others utilized fallen trees or branches, some two or three piled saddles and blanket rolls into a low barricade, and all, while crouching about their work, watched the feathered warriors as they steadily completed their big circle far at the
On the prairie.
Bullets came whistling now fast and frequently, nipping off leaves and twigs, and causing many a fellow to duck instinctively and to look about him, ashamed of his dodge, yet sure of the fact that time had been in the days of the most hardened veteran of the troop when he, too, knew what it was to shrink from the whistle of hostile lead.
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