between himself and his
pursuers. Less fleet of foot than they, it took but a few seconds to
show him the hopelessness of the task.

None of the trees was large enough to give protection to his body, but
seeing no rocks that could serve him, he dodged behind the first trunk
that presented itself. This was barely six inches in diameter, and was
no better than nothing at all.

Pausing but a moment, he leaped away again, with that wild, aimless
impulse which comes over one when panic-stricken. The halt, brief though
it was, proved fatal. His pursuer was on his heels, and the brave youth
turned at bay. As if fate was against him, when he attempted to bring
his rifle to a level, he made a slip and it dropped from his grasp. He
had no time to pick it up.

"S'render! s'render!" called his foe in good English, waving his right
hand aloft with his gun grasped in it.

"I'll surrender, ye spalpeen!"

Resorting like a flash to nature's weapons, the Irishman delivered a
blow straight from the shoulder, which sent the Sioux spinning backward
with his feet pointing toward the sky.

Had he been the only foe to contend with, Tim might have saved himself,
for the savage was utterly "knocked out," and the opportunity to finish
him could not have been better.

Tim had his revolver, but in his excitement he forgot the important
fact. He was about to leap upon his prostrate enemy, with the intention
of snatching his gun from him and using it, when the other two Sioux
burst to view.

Without waiting for them to assail him, the youth dashed forward like a
panther at bay.

Before the foremost could elude the assault, he struck him as fairly as
he had hit the other, and he sprawled on his back, with the breath
driven from his body.

But the impetus of his blow carried Tim forward, and, half tripping in
his headlong rush, he fell on his hands and knees. He strove frantically
to save himself, but, before he could struggle to his feet, the other
Sioux dealt him a stroke with the butt of his gun which laid the fellow
helpless on his face.

The skull of the Irishman, however, was tough, and he quickly recovered,
but not before several other warriors appeared on the scene.

For one moment the young rancher meditated a rush upon them, and had
actually doubled his fists for that purpose, but even in his fury he
perceived the folly of such a course. If he assailed the Sioux, they
would quickly finish him then and there, while the fact of