lness, chafed angrily under the
infliction.

Once more the five horsemen came galloping around us, and discharged
their pieces as before; but this time with more effect. A bullet struck
Garey in the shoulder, tearing away a patch of his hunting-shirt, and
drawing the blood; while another went whizzing past the cheek of Old
Rube, creasing his catskin cap!

"Hooray!" shouted the latter, clapping his hand over the place where the
lead had wounded him. "Clost enough thet wur! Cuss me, eft hain't
carried away one o' my ears!"

And the old trapper accompanied the remark with a wild, reckless laugh.

The rent of the bullet, and the blood upon Garey's shoulder, now fell
under his eye, and suddenly changing countenance, he exclaimed--

"By the 'tarnal! yur hit, Bill? Speak, boyee!"

"It's nothin'," promptly replied Garey--"nothin'; only a grease. I
don't feel it."

"Yur sure?"

"Sartin sure."

"By the livin catamount!" exclaimed Rube, in a serious tone, "we can't
stan this no longer. What's to be done, Billee? Think, boy!"

"We must make a burst for it," replied Garey; "it's our only chance."

"Tur no use," said Rube, with a doubtful shake of the head. "The young
fellur mout git clur; but for you 'n me thur's not the shaddy o' a
chance. They'd catch up wi' the ole mar in the flappin' o' a beaver's
tail, an yur hoss ain't none o' the sooplest. Tur no use."

"I tell you it are, Rube," replied Garey impatiently. "You mount the
white hoss--he's fast enough--an let the mar slide; or you take mine, an
I'll back whitey. We mayent get clar altogether; but we'll string the
niggers out on the parairy, an take them one arter another. It's better
than stannin' hyar to be shot down like buffler in a penn. What do
_you_ think, capt'n?" added he, addressing himself to me.

Just then an idea had occurred to me. "Why not gallop to the cliff?" I
inquired, looking toward the mesa: "they can't surround us there? With
our backs to the rock, and our horses in front of us, we may defy the
rabble. We might easily reach it by a dash--"

"Scalp me! ef the young fellur ain't right," cried Rube, interrupting my
speech. "It's the very idee, plum centre!"

"It are!" echoed Garey--"it are! We hain't a second to lose; they'll be
round us again in a squ'll's jump. Look yonder!"

This conversation had occupied but a few seconds of time. It occurred
just after the five horsemen had the second time emptied their guns, and