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
But at no time until near their supports and far from the fort, had the Sioux halted for a hand to hand fight, and Blake's long experience on the frontier had stood him in good stead.
He saw they were playing for one of two results, and
Either to lure him and his fellows in the heat of pursuit far round to the north west, where were the united hundreds of lame wolf and stabber stalking that bigger game, or else to tempt Blake himself so far ahead of his fellows as to enable them to suddenly whirl about, cut him off, and three on one, finish him then and there, then speed away in frenzied delight, possessors of a long coveted scalp.
They well knew Blake, almost as well as they did Ray.
Many a year he had fought them through the summer and fed them through the winter.
They, their squores and papooses, had fattened on his bounty when the snows were deep and deer were gone, and their abundant rations had been feasted or gambled away.
Many of their number liked him well, but now they were at the war game again, and business is business with the Aborigines.
Blake was a big chief, and he who could wear at his belt the scalp of so prominent a pale faced leader would be envied among his people.
Longlegs, as they called him, however, was no fool.
Brave and zealous as he was, Blake was not rash.
He well knew that unless he and his few men kept together, they would simply play into the hands of the Indians.
It would have been easy for him, with his big racer, to outstrip his little party and close with the Sioux.
Only one of the troopers had a horse that could keep pace with Pyramus, but nothing he could gain by such a proceeding would warrant the desperate risk.
Matchless as we have reason to believe our men, we cannot say believe our mounts.
Unmatched would better describe them.
Meisner's horse might have run with the captains until crippled by the bullets of the Sioux, but Bent's and Flanagans were heavy and slow, and so it resulted that the pursuit, though determined, was not so dangerous to the enemy, but that they were able to keenly enjoy it, until the swift coming of Kennedy and his captive comrade turned the odds against them, for then two of Blake's horses had given out through wounds and weakness, and they had the pursuers indeed in a hole.
That relief came none too soon.
Blake and his fellows had been brought to a stand, but now the Sioux sped away out of range.
The crippled party limped slowly back to the shelter of Frain, reaching the post long hours after their spirited start, only to find the women and children, at least, in an agony of dread and excitement, and even Dade and his devoted men looking grave and disturbed.
Unless all indications failed, Ray and his people must have been having the fight of their lives, and
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