untainside, he saw a bush on a ledge
a little to the left of the trail quiver, as if stirred by a passing
breath of wind. He aimed his Winchester through a crack in the wall at
the spot, and when a moment later an Apache rose up from the ground and
leaped toward the shelter of a rock below, Lane fired, and the savage
fell crumpling. Like an echo of the explosion a rifle on the right
spoke, and a bullet struck the rock by Lane's head. He marked the spot
whence the shot came, and quickly ran to another part of the wall.
From here he saw the edge of an Indian's thigh exposed by the side of
the boulder he had noted. CRACK! went Lane's Winchester; the leg was
suddenly withdrawn, and at the same moment a head appeared on the other
side of the rock, as if the Indian had stretched himself involuntarily.
CRACK! again, and Lane had got his man.

"Two shots to an Indian is expensive," thought the prospector,
"otherwise this game of tip-jack would be very interesting."

There was a cry in the Apache tongue, and suddenly nine half-naked
bodies arose from behind rocks and bushes extending in an irregular
crescent above the fort, and rushed forward ten, fifteen, and even
twenty, yards to the next cover. Lane did not count number or distance
at the time, but he figured these out in his next period of waiting
from the photograph flashed on his subconscious mind. At the time of
the rush he was otherwise occupied. CRACK! CRACK! and two of the
Indians fell dead in mid-career. CRACK! and a third crawled, wounded,
to the cover he had almost safely attained. CRACK! and an
eagle-feather in the head of the fourth Indian shot at was cut off at
the stem, and fell forward on the rock behind which its wearer had
dropped just in time to save his life. There was an answering volley
from the rifles of the remaining Apaches, which was directed against
the lookout of loose stones from which the prospector's fire had come.
One of the bullets penetrated the opening and plowed a furrow through
Lane's scalp, toppling him to his knees. He scrambled quickly to his
feet, and, hastily pressing his long hair back from his forehead, to
stanch the bleeding wound, sought the protection the middle lookout.
He congratulated himself.

"Lucky for me they didn't follow the first rush immediately with a
second. Now I know to wait for their signal. Six, and possibly seven
of them, are left, and they will storm my works in two more attempts.
Here they come!