rs,
and Jonas remarked,

"That feller could do all the loose yelling for a small tribe. Hark to
him, now."

"Big Tongue great brave!" said Ha-ha-pah-no, tartly. "'Pache hear him,
'Pache go dead. Run."

In a few minutes more the Nez Perce ponies were squeezing their packs
through the narrow entrance of the notch, and a succession of approving
grunts from Long Bear testified the satisfaction he felt at getting into
so secure a fort. He perfectly understood the value and uses of that
barrier. When daylight came he again said "Ugh!" several times while he
was examining the stone wall and the other evidences of the skill and
zeal of his pale-face friends.

There was no more sleeping done in the notch, but there was an immense
amount of very early cooking and eating, not to speak of the smoking and
consultation, and the very general expression of a bad opinion of the
entire Apache nation. They and their works, past, present, and to come,
were condemned unsparingly. At the same time their fighting qualities
were freely admitted, and with them the certainty that no Apache
war-party would turn away from a bit of war so well begun as was this.

The sun arose, but almost to the astonishment of Sile, as well as the
Nez Perces, the hardy miners behaved very much as if they had no war
whatever on their hands.

"Them 'Paches'll come and go," said Jonas, "but we've got to have this
'ere wall finished."

At it they went, well assured that the barrier and all the land near it
would be well watched, and that it was an easy thing to do to pick up a
rifle if an alarm should come.

Sile felt less interest in the mine, somehow. The story of his exploit
had been told, of course, to his Indian friends, and he could but see
that it had made him an object of respectful admiration. There was not a
warrior among them who would not have been proud of such a feather as
that victory, but the effect upon Two Arrows was peculiar. He had
regarded himself as Sile's superior in all things which did not belong
especially to a young pale-face. It had not occurred to him that Sile
was or ever could become a "great brave." Some of the "blue-coats" were,
he knew, but Sile was not a blue-coat. He had heard stories of the
prowess of other pale-faces, but Sile was a mere boy, and dreadfully
green to the ways of the plains and mountains. He could not think of one
boy of his band who really knew less of the things most important to be
known, except rifle-