estness with which
they joined in the defence of their little stronghold. On either side
of him were the stern-looking warriors, rifle in hand, watchful of eye
and quick of ear, each listening attentively for danger while waiting
for warnings from the scouts who had been sent out.

As Bart thought over their position and its dangers, he grew troubled at
heart about Maude, the sister and companion as she had always seemed to
him, and somehow, much as he looked up to Dr Lascelles, who seemed to
him the very height of knowledge, strength, and skill, it filled his
mind with forebodings of the future as he wondered how they were to
continue their expedition to the end without happening upon some
terrible calamity.

"Maude ought to have been left with friends, or sent to the city. It
seems to me like madness to have brought her here."

Just then Dr Lascelles crept up cautiously behind him, making him start
and turn scarlet as a hand was laid upon his shoulder; for it seemed to
him as if the Doctor had been able to read his thoughts.

"Why, Bart," he said, smiling, "you look as red as fire; you ought to
look as pale as milk. Do you want to begin the fight?"

"No," said Bart, sturdily; "I hope we shan't have to fight at all, for
it seems very horrid to have to shoot at a man."

"Ever so much more horrid for a man to shoot at you," said Joses in a
hoarse whisper as he crawled up behind them. "I'd sooner shoot twelve,
than twelve should shoot me."

"Why have you left your post?" said the Doctor, looking at him sternly.

"Came to say, master, that I think young miss aren't safe. She will
keep showing herself, and watching to see if you are all right, and
that'll make the Indians, if they come, all aim at her."

"You are right, Joses," said the Doctor, hastily; and he went softly
back to the waggon, while Joses went on in a grumbling whisper:

"I don't know what he wanted to bring her for. Course we all like her,
Master Bart, but it scares me when I think of what it might lead to if
we get hard pressed some of these days."

"Don't croak, Joses," whispered Bart; and then they were both silent and
remained watching, for the chief held up his hand, pointing towards the
rocks beyond, which they knew that their enemies were passing, and whose
tops they scanned lest at any moment some of the painted warriors might
appear searching the valley with their keen dark eyes.

The hours passed, and the rocks around them grew p