Above them all was silence, yet Billy knew that alert, red foemen were creeping to the edge of the bluff in search of their prey.If he could but reach the shelter of the bowlders before the Pimans discovered them!
The minutes that were consumed in covering the hundred yards seemed as many hours to Billy Byrne; but at last he dragged the fainting cowboy between two large bowlders close under the edge of the bluff and found himself in a little, natural fortress, well adapted to defense.
From above they were protected from the fire of the Indians upon the bluff by the height of the bowlder at the foot of which they lay, while another just in front hid them from possible marksmen across the canyon.Smaller rocks scattered about gave promise of shelter from flank fire, and as soon as he had deposited Eddie in the comparative safety of their retreat Byrne commenced forming a low breastwork upon the side facing the village--the direction from which they might naturally expect attack.This done he turned his attention to the opening upon the opposite side and soon had a similar defense constructed there, then he turned his attention to Eddie, though keeping a watchful eye upon both approaches to their stronghold.
The Kansan lay upon his side, moaning.Blood stained his lips and nostrils, and when Billy Byrne opened his shirt and found a gaping wound in his right breast he knew how serious was his companion's injury.As he felt Billy working over him the boy opened his eyes.
"Do you think I'm done for?" he asked in a tortured whisper.
"Nothin' doin'," lied Billy cheerfully."Just a scratch.You'll be all right in a day or two."Eddie shook his head wearily."I wish I could believe you,"he said."I ben figgerin' on goin' back to see maw.I ain't thought o' nothin' else since you told me 'bout how she missed me.I ken see her right now just like I was there.I'll bet she's scrubbin' the kitchen floor.Maw was always a-scrubbin'
somethin'.Gee! but it's tough to cash in like this just when I was figgerin' on goin' home."Billy couldn't think of anything to say.He turned to look up and down the canyon in search of the enemy.
"Home!" whispered Eddie."Home!"
"Aw, shucks!" said Billy kindly."You'll get home all right, kid.The boys must a-heard the shootin' an' they'll be along in no time now.Then we'll clean up this bunch o' coons an'
have you back to El Orobo an' nursed into shape in no time."Eddie tried to smile as he looked up into the other's face.
He reached a hand out and laid it on Billy's arm.
"You're all right, old man," he whispered."I know you're lyin' an' so do you; but it makes me feel better anyway to have you say them things."Billy felt as one who has been caught stealing from a blind man.The only adequate reply of which he could think was, "Aw, shucks!""Say," said Eddie after a moment's silence, "if you get out o' here an' ever go back to the States promise me you'll look up maw and paw an' tell 'em I was comin' home--to stay.
Tell 'em I died decent, too, will you--died like paw was always a-tellin' me my granddad died, fightin' Injuns 'round Fort Dodge somewheres.""Sure," said Billy; "I'll tell 'em.Gee! Look who's comin'
here," and as he spoke he flattened himself to the ground just as a bullet pinged against the rock above his head and the report of a rifle sounded from up the canyon."That guy most got me.I'll have to be 'tendin' to business better'n this."He drew himself slowly up upon his elbows, his carbine ready in his hand, and peered through a small aperture between two of the rocks which composed his breastwork.
Then he stuck the muzzle of the weapon through, took aim and pulled the trigger.
"Didje get him?" asked Eddie.
"Yep," said Billy, and fired again."Got that one too.Say, they're tough-lookin' guys; but I guess they won't come so fast next time.Those two were right in the open, workin' up to us on their bellies.They must a-thought we was sleepin'."For an hour Billy neither saw nor heard any sign of the enemy, though several times be raised his hat above the breastwork upon the muzzle of his carbine to draw their fire.
It was midafternoon when the sound of distant rifle fire came faintly to the ears of the two men from somewhere far below them.
"The boys must be comin'," whispered Eddie Shorter hopefully.
For half an hour the firing continued and then silence again fell upon the mountains.Eddie began to wander mentally.He talked much of Kansas and his old home, and many times he begged for water.
"Buck up, kid," said Billy; "the boys'll be along in a minute now an' then we'll get you all the water you want."But the boys did not come.Billy was standing up now, stretching his legs, and searching up and down the canyon for Indians.He was wondering if he could chance making a break for the valley where they stood some slight chance of meeting with their companions, and even as he considered the matter seriously there came a staccato report and Billy Byrne fell forward in a heap.
"God!" cried Eddie."They got him now, they got him."Byrne stirred and struggled to rise.
"Like'll they got me," he said, and staggered to his knees.
Over the breastwork he saw a half-dozen Indians running rapidly toward the shelter--he saw them in a haze of red that was caused not by blood but by anger.With an oath Billy Byrne leaped to his feet.From his knees up his whole body was exposed to the enemy; but Billy cared not.He was in a berserker rage.Whipping his carbine to his shoulder he let drive at the advancing Indians who were now beyond hope of cover.They must come on or be shot down where they were, so they came on, yelling like devils and stopping momentarily to fire upon the rash white man who stood so perfect a target before them.
But their haste spoiled their marksmanship.The bullets zinged and zipped against the rocky little fortress, they nicked Billy's shirt and trousers and hat, and all the while he stood there pumping lead into his assailants--not hysterically; but with the cool deliberation of a butcher slaughtering beeves.
