need expect no mercy.
The man who could leave them buried alive to die a lingering death in
the gloomy recesses of a cavern, would be cruel enough not only to kill
but torture them. They have to "go under," anyhow, as the prairie
hunter expresses it, adding, "Ef we must die let's do so, killin' them
as kills us. I'm good for half a score o' them leetle minikin Mexikins,
an' I reck'n you, Frank, kin wipe out as many. We'll make it a bloody
bizness for them afore the last breath leeves our bodies. Air you all
churged an' riddy?"

"I am," is the response of the Kentuckian, in stern, solemn tones,
showing that he, as the Texan, has made up his mind to "die killing."

Says the latter, "They'll come out through the trees yonder, where the
path runs in. Let's take the fust as shows, an' drop him dead. Gie me
the chance, Frank. I'm dyin' to try the doctor's gun."

"By all means do so."

"You fetch the second out o' his saddle, if a second show. That'll gie
the others a scare, an' keep 'em back a bit, so's we'll hev good time to
get loaded agin."

All this--both speech and action--has not occupied over two minutes of
time. The rush inside the cabin, the closing of the doors, and taking
stand at the windows, have been done in that haste with which men
retreat from a tiger or flee before a prairie fire.

And now, having taken all the precautions possible, the two men wait
behind the walls, gun in hand, prepared for the approach of the
assailants--themselves so sheltered by the obscurity inside as not to be
seen from without.

As yet no enemy has made appearance. No living thing is seen outside,
save the lump of copper-coloured humanity prostrate on the sward, beside
the bag and swag he has been hindered from taking away. Still the shod
hoofs are heard striking against stones, the click sounding clearer and
nearer. They inside the _jacal_ listen with bated breath, but hearts
beating audibly. Hearts filled with anxiety. How could it be else? In
another minute they may expect to engage in a life-and-death conflict--
for themselves too likely a death one.

Something more than anxiety stirs within them. Something of
apprehension, perhaps actual fear. If so, not strange; fear, under the
circumstances, excusable, even in the hearts of heroes. Stranger were
it otherwise.

Whatever their emotions at the moment, they experience a sudden change,
succeeded by a series. The first is surprise. While listening to t