the "screechin' cattymount frum up nor'."
"Rip, dig an' gouge 'em. Ho! ho! we'll see now who'll swing, _we_
will! We'll l'arn who'll display his agility in mid-air, we will. At
'em, b'yees, at 'em. We'll hang 'em like they do hoss-thieves down at
Cheyenne!"

Then followed a pitched battle in the bar-room of the "Metropolitan"
saloon, such as probably never occurred there before, and never has
since.

Revolvers flashed on every hand, knives clashed in deadly conflict;
yells, wild, savage, and awful made a perfect pandemonium, to which
was added a second edition in the shape of oaths, curses, and groans.
Crack! whiz! bang! the bullets flew about like hailstones, and men
fell to the reeking floor each terrible moment.

The two friends were not alone in the affray.

No sooner had Catamount Cass and his gang of "toughs" showed fight,
than a company of miners sprung to Harris' side, and showed their
willingness to fight it out on the square line.

Therefore, once the first shot was fired, it needed not a word to
pitch the battle.

Fiercely waged the contest--now hand to hand--loud rose the savage
yells on the still night air.

One by one men fell on either side, their life-blood crimsoning the
floor, their dying groans unheeded in the fearful melee.

Still unharmed, and fighting among the first, we see Ned Harris and
his remarkable companion, Calamity Jane; both are black, and scarcely
recognizable in the cloud of smoke that fills the bar-room. Harris is
wounded in a dozen places and weak from loss of blood; yet he stands
up bravely and fights mechanically.

Calamity Jane if she is wounded shows it not, but faces the music with
as little apparent fear as any of those around her.

On wages the battle, even as furiously as in its beginning; the last
shot has been fired; it is now knife to knife, and face to face.

Full as many of one side as the other have fallen, and lay strewn
about under foot, unthought of, uncared for in the excitement of the
desperate moment. Gallons of blood have made the floor slippery and
reeking, so that it is difficult to retain one's footing.

At the head of the ruffians the Diamond brothers[C] still hold sway,
fighting like madmen in their endeavors to win a victory. They cannot
do less, for to back off in this critical moment means sure death to
the weakening party.

But hark! what are these sounds?

The thunder of hoofs is heard outside; the rattle of musketry and
sabers, and th