others on the same side of the corral, were under the
belief that the shot had been a miss; for the Indian at whom it was
aimed still stuck to his horse, and was carried for some distance on in
curving career. Nor did the animal show any sign of having been hit.
But the rider did. While engaged in the effort of sending his arrow,
the savage had exposed his face, one arm, and part of the other. Ere he
could withdraw them, Walt's bullet had struck the arm that supported
him, breaking the bone close to the elbow-joint. He has clung on with
the tenacity of a shot squirrel, knowing that to let go will be certain
death to him. But, despite all his efforts, the crippled arm fails to
sustain him; and, with a despairing cry, he at length tumbles to the
ground. Before he can rise to his feet, his body is bored by a leaden
messenger from one of the men watching on that side, which lays him
lifeless along the sand.

No cheer of triumph ascends from among the waggons; the situation of
those who defend them is too serious for any idle exhibition. The man
who has fired the last shot only hastens to re-load, while the others
remain mute and motionless--each on the look-out for a like opportunity.

The fall of their comrade has taught the freebooters a lesson, and for a
time they make their approach with more caution. But the shouts of
those standing spectators in the outer circle stimulate them to fresh
efforts, as the slightest show of cowardice would surely cause them to
be taunted. Those entrusted with the fiery arrows are all young
warriors, chosen for this dangerous service, or volunteers to perform
it. The eyes of their chief, and the braves of the tribe, are upon
them. They are thirsting for glory, and hold their lives as of little
account, in the face of an achievement that will gain them the
distinction most coveted by an Indian youth--that which will give him
rank as a warrior, and perhaps some day raise him to a chieftaincy.

Stimulated by this thought, they soon forget the check caused by the
fall of their comrade; and, laying aside caution, ride nearer and
nearer, till their arrows, one after another, hurtle through the air,
and dropping like a continuous shower of spent rocket-sticks upon the
covers of the corralled waggons.

Several of them fall to shots from the barricade, but then places are
supplied by fresh volunteers from the outer circle; and the sparkling
shower is kept up, till a curl of smoke is s