was about
stooping into the mouth of the cavern.

"Now's yur time," cried Rube. "Fetch the niggur out o' his boots!
Fetch him!"

I fired, and the savage, dropping the torch, fell dead upon the top of
it!

An angry yell from without followed the report, and the Indians
disappeared from the front. Shortly after, an arm was seen reaching in,
and the dead body was drawn back out of the entrance.

"What will they do next, think you?" I inquired of my companion.

"I can't tell adzactly yit; but thur sick o' that game, I reckin. Load
that ber'l agin. I guess we'll git a lot o' 'm afore we gins in. Cuss
the luck! that gun, Tar-guts! Ef I only had that leetle piece hyur!
'Ee've got six shots, have 'ee? Good! 'Ee mout chock up the cave wi'
their karkidges afore they kin reach us. It ur a great weepun, an' no
mistakes. I seed the cap use it. Lor'! how he made it tell on them
niggers i' the shanty! Thur ain't many o' them about, I reckin. Load
sure, young fellur! Thur's plenty o' time. They knows what you've got
thur."

During all this dialogue none of the Indians made their appearance, but
we could hear them on both sides of the shaft without. We knew they
were deliberating on what plan they would take to get at us.

As Rube suggested, they seemed to be aware that the shot had come from a
revolver. Doubtless some of the survivors of the late fight had
informed them of the fearful havoc that had been made among them with
our pistols, and they dreaded to face them. What other plan would they
adopt? Starve us out?

"They mout," said Rube, in answer to my question, "an' kin if they try.
Thur ain't a big show o' vittlin' hyur, 'ceptin' we chaw donnicks. But
thur's another way, ef they only hev the gumshin to go about it, that'll
git us sooner than starvin'. Ha!" ejaculated the speaker, with
emphasis. "I thort so. Thur a-gwine to smoke us. Look 'ee yander!"

I looked forth. At a distance I saw several Indians coming in the
direction of the cave, carrying large bundles of brushwood. Their
intention was evident.

"But can they do this?" I inquired, doubting the possibility of our
enemies being able to effect their purpose in that way; "can we not bear
the smoke?"

"Bar it! Yur green, young fellur. Do 'ee know what sort o' brush thur
a-toatin' yander?"

"No," said I; "what is it?"

"It ur the stink-plant, then; an' the stinkinest plant 'ee ever smelt, I
reckin. The smoke o' it ud choke a sk