om a
hidden dip in the trail below the fortification. Lane dropped behind
the parapet, evidently before he was observed, as the steadily
increasing number and loudness of the hoof-beats on the rocky trail
indicated to the listener.

Crawling back to his horse and burro, he made them lie down against the
upper wall, and picketed them with short lengths of rope to the ground,
for he foresaw that danger could come only from the mountainside.
Taking his Winchester, he returned to the parapet, and, half-seated,
half-reclining behind it, opened fire on the unsuspecting Apaches. The
leader, shot through the head, fell from his horse, which reared and
backed wildly down the trail. Other bullets must have found their
billets also, but, because of the confusion which ensued among the
Indians, the prospector was unable to tell how many of them he had put
out of action. In a flash every rider had leaped off his horse, and,
protecting himself by its body, was scrambling with his mount to the
protecting declivity in the rear. The prospector was sorely tempted to
pump his cartridges into the group as it poured back over the rim of
the hollow, but he desisted from the useless slaughter of horses alone,
knowing that he could be attacked only on foot, and that every one of
his slender store of cartridges must find a human mark if he would
return to the States alive. "They've got to put me out of business
before they can go on," he ruminated. "An Apache is a good deal of a
coward when he's fighting for pleasure, but just corner him, and, great
snakes and spittin' wildcats, what a game he does put up! I must save
my cartridges; for one thing's sure, they won't waste any of theirs.
They're not as good shots as white men, for ammunition is too scarce
with them for use in gun practise; so they won't fire till they've got
me dead to rights. Let me see; there's about a dozen left in the
party, and I have fifteen cartridges--that's three in reserve for my
own outfit, if some of the others fail to get their men. Those red
devils enjoy skinning an animal alive as much as torturing a man, and
you can bet they won't save me any bullets by shooting Nance and Jinny."

Reasoning that the Indians would not dare to attack by way of the open
trail in front, and that it would take some time for them to make the
detour necessary to approach him from above, since they would have to
leave their ponies below and climb on hands and knees over jutting