had only a couple of minutes for anticipation, for we were coming
down like a runaway race-horse toward the narrow place in the chasm
where they stood.

Jim swung the boat over to the middle of the stream to get the benefit
of the fastest rapids, for it was speed just now that we needed more
than anything else.

We might have steered in close to the wall under them, but there was a
nasty "sag" that would have rendered us helpless, and when we did get
into the current again we figured that we would lose headway and make a
better target.

We could make out that there was great excitement among the Indians, on
the ledge some four hundred feet above the stream. There was little
doubt about their intentions now, and they were not of the peaceful
variety.

One of them had a carbine which he aimed toward us, a little puff of
smoke and then there was a flick in the water back of us.

Others stood with bows drawn back at full strength as they poised
forward and let fly a snow storm of their white feathered darts.

Swish, swish they cut into the water all around us.

"It beats the hail storm way back in Kansas," yelled Jim.

Six or more of the arrows struck in the boat. One transfixed the top of
the cabin. As if stung, our boat leaped forward down the rapid.

Now we were almost under the party of Indians. As I dodged into the
cabin where Tom was already curled up, I saw them stand poised with
stones, some grasping them above their heads with both hands. Then they
hurled them down in a regular hail. The water splashed in white foam all
around the boat and the spray dashed in all directions.

One large round stone struck the bow splintering a board. Several more
fell crash on the deck. Two grazed Jim as he dodged, yet stuck valiantly
at his post, holding the boat to the current. He was splashed from head
to foot with the flying spray. Fortunately none of the missiles struck
the steering oar.

Finally a shell,--well it seemed like it, but I mean a stone,--came down
fair on the roof of the cabin, splintering through and falling on Tom's
leg. This smoked us out, and we crawled out on deck.

"Give those fellows a shot," yelled Jim, "make 'em dance, Jo."

I seized my rifle from the side of the cabin and leveled it back up the
canyon at the group of Indians, who had given us such a warm reception.

It was laughable to see the effect upon them as I aimed. All that could
dropped flat to the ledge, making themselves extreme