d unhesitating obedience.

CHAPTER XI

THE BATTLE

Occupied for a few moments with the other at the wagon, Franklin ceased
to watch Juan, as he went slowly but not unskilfully about the work of
dressing the dead buffalo. Suddenly he heard a cry, and looking up,
saw the Mexican running hurriedly toward the wagon and displaying an
animation entirely foreign to his ordinary apathetic habit. He pointed
out over the plain as he came on, and called out excitedly: "_Indios!
Los Indios_!"

The little party cast one long, careful look out toward the horizon,
upon which now appeared a thin, waving line of dust. A moment later
the two wagons were rolled up side by side, the horses were fastened
securely as possible, the saddles and blanket rolls were tossed into
breastworks at the ends of the barricade, and all the feeble defences
possible were completed. Four rifles looked steadily out, and every
face was set and anxious, except that of the Mexican who had given the
alarm. Juan was restless, and made as though to go forth to meet the
advancing line.

"_Vamos--me vamos_!" he said, struggling to get past Curly, who pushed
him back.

"Set down, d----n you--set down!" said Curly, and with his strange,
childlike obedience, the great creature sat down and remained for a
moment submissively silent.

The indefinite dust line turned from gray to dark, and soon began to
show colours--black, red, roan, piebald--as the ponies came on with
what seemed an effect of a tossing sea of waving manes and tails,
blending and composing with the deep sweeping feather trails of the
grand war bonnets. Hands rose and fell with whips, and digging heels
kept up the unison. Above the rushing of the hoofs there came forward
now and then a keen ululation. Red-brown bodies, leaning, working up
and down, rising and falling with the motion of the ponies, came into
view, dozens of them--scores of them. Their moccasined feet were
turned back under the horses' bellies, the sinewy legs clamping the
horse from thigh to ankle as the wild riders came on, with no bridle
governing their steeds other than the jaw rope's single strand.

"Good cavalry, b'gad!" said Battersleigh calmly, as he watched them in
their perfect horsemanship. "See 'em come!" Franklin's eyes drew
their brows down in a narrowing frown, though he remained silent, as
was his wont at any time of stress.

The Indians came on, close up to the barricade, where they saw the
muzz