Hampton, through the medium of easy conversation, early discovered in

the sergeant an intelligent mind, possessing some knowledge of

literature. They had been discussing books with rare enthusiasm, and

the former had drawn from the concealment of an inner pocket a

diminutive copy of "The Merchant of Venice," from which he was reading

aloud a disputed passage, when the faint trail they followed suddenly

dipped into the yawning mouth of a black canyon. It was a narrow,

gloomy, contracted gorge, a mere gash between those towering hills

shadowing its depths on either hand. A swift mountain stream, noisy

and clear as crystal, dashed from rock to rock close beside the more

northern wall, while the ill-defined pathway, strewn with bowlders and

guarded by underbrush, clung to the opposite side, where low scrub

trees partially obscured the view.

All was silent as death when they entered. Not so much as the flap of

a wing or the stir of a leaf roused suspicion, yet they had barely

advanced a short hundred paces when those apparently bare rocks in

front flamed red, the narrow defile echoed to wild screeches and became

instantly crowded with weird, leaping figures. It was like a plunge

from heaven into hell. Blaine and Endicott sank at the first fire;

Watt, his face picturing startled surprise, reeled from his saddle,

clutching at the air, his horse dashing madly forward and dragging him,

head downward, among the sharp rocks; while Wyman's stricken arm

dripped blood. Indeed, under that sudden shock, he fell, and was

barely rescued by the prompt action of the man beside him. Dropping

the opened book, and firing madly to left and right with a revolver

which appeared to spring into his hand as by magic, the latter coolly

dragged the fainting soldier across the more exposed space, until the

two found partial security among a mass of loosened rocks littering the

base of the precipice. The others who survived that first scorching

discharge also raced toward this same shelter, impelled thereto by the

unerring instinct of border fighting, and flinging themselves flat

behind protecting bowlders, began responding to the hot fire rained

upon them.

Scattered and hurried as these first volleys were, they proved

sufficient to check the howling demons in the open. It has never been

Indian nature to face unprotected the aim of the white men, and those

dark figures, which only a moment before thronged the narrow gorge,

leaping crazily in the riot of apparent victory, suddenly melted from

sight, slinking down into leafy coverts beside the stream or into holes

among the rocks, like so many vanishing prairie-dogs. The fierce

yelpings died faintly away in distant echoes, while the hideous roar of

conflict diminished to the occasional sharp crackling of single rifles.

Now and then a sinewy brown arm might incautiously project across the

gleaming surface of a rock, or a mop of coarse black hair appear above

the edge of a gully, either incident resulting in a quick interchange

of fire. That was all; yet the experienced frontiersmen knew that eyes

as keen as those of any wild animal of the jungle were watching

murderously their slightest movement.




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