the
approach of the enemy; these took the form of the cry of the
screech-owl. Thus, within a quarter of an hour after their arrival,
all was in readiness for the raiders, and the valley once more
returned to its native quiet.

And how quiet and still it all was! The time crept on toward the
appointed hour. The moon was still high in the heavens, but its light
had grown more and more uncertain. The clouds had become dense to a
stormy extent. Now and then the rippling waters of the brook caught
and reflected for a moment a passing shaft of light, like a silvery
rift in the midst of the valley, but otherwise all was shadow. And in
the occasional moonlight every tree and bush and boulder was magnified
into some weird, spectral shape, distorting it from plain truth into
some grotesque fiction, turning the humblest growth into anything from
a grazing steer to a moving vehicle; from a prowling coyote to a log
hut. The music of the waking night-world droned on the scented air,
emphasizing the calm, the delicious peace. It was like some fairy
kingdom swept by strains of undefined music which haunted the ear
without monotony, and peopled with shadows which the imagination could
mould at its pleasure.

But in the eagerness of the moment all this was lost to the waiting
men. To them it was a possible battleground; with a view to cover, it
was a strategic position, and they were satisfied with it. The cattle,
turned loose from the corrals, must pass up or down the valley;
similarly, any number of men must approach from one of these two
directions, which meant that the ambush could not be avoided.

At last the warning signal came. An owl hooted from somewhere up the
valley, the cry rising in weird cadence and dying away lingeringly.
And, at the same time, there came the sound of a distant rumble, like
the steady drone of machinery at some far-off point. Tresler at once
gave up his watch on the east and centred all attention upon the west.
One of his own men had answered the owl's cry, and a third screech
came from the guard at the corrals.

The rumble grew louder. There were no moving objects visible yet, but
the growing sound was less of a murmur; it was more detached, and the
straining ears distinctly made out the clatter of hoofs evidently
traveling fast down the valley trail. On they came, steadily hammering
out their measure with crisp precision. It was a moment of tense
excitement for those awaiting the approach. But only