"'Pache chief want pony? want scalp? Go other place. Too much heap
shoot; kill 'em all."

CHAPTER XXIX

STIRRING TIMES

The idea of a great fight about to come off had quite turned the heads
of Sile and Two Arrows, and the later was aching all over with anxiety
to try his new rifle. They had found good places to shoot from. Even the
judge did not hesitate a moment about bidding Sile to do his duty,
although he had a pretty strong conviction that there would not be much
to do right away. Na-tee-kah had singled out that pair as the particular
braves in whose conduct she was interested, but had no doubt that her
brother would win more glory than the Red-head, now that he had so good
a rifle.

The circumstances had even more completely turned the hot heads of the
young Apache braves left in charge of their too numerous drove of
horses. Every soul of them was crazy to be at the front and take part in
whatever might turn up. They all seemed to drift naturally a little in
that direction, and kept no kind of lookout, leaving their precious
charge to take care of itself. The horses, therefore, at once began to
take advantage of the grass.

This state of things continued, and grew worse and worse every minute,
until a good long hour after the main body had moved away along Sile's
trail towards the notch. Then, altogether unexpectedly, but as by one
impulse, all the Apache horse-guard gave a sudden start and turned their
heads in one direction.

Over the crest of the nearest knoll, stirring and clear and sweet, came
the sound of a cavalry bugle. It was the signal to "charge," and was
followed by the swift rush of Captain Grover and his men. In an instant
they were between the feeding quadrupeds and their astonished keepers,
and it was all in vain for the young hot-heads in their amazement to
attempt to rally. One only wheeled his pony at once and rode away at the
top of his speed. The nine or ten who dashed in the other direction
suddenly all drew rein as they discovered the odds against them. A line
of iron veterans, thirty strong, was thundering forward, and not an
Apache was fool enough to fire a shot and be cut down for it.

There was just enough of bewildered, leaderless indecision to settle the
matter. The sabres swept flashingly around the squad of redskins, and
all they had to do was to surrender. It is a mere novelist's blunder to
suppose and to write that red men have not sense enough to give it up
whe