hev to go to
sleep leavin' you outside our door."

The Indians were always susceptible to oratory and now another shout of
rage came from them. The taunts of Long Jim were too much, and a dozen
dusky forms sprang from the undergrowth and rushed up the slope. There
was a puff of smoke from the cleft in the cliff and the foremost warrior
fell, shot squarely through the forehead. A second puff and a second
warrior was gone to a land where the hunting is always good. Before such
accurate shooting with only the moonlight to aid, the other warriors
shrank back appalled, and quickly hid themselves in the undergrowth.

"Good boys! Good boys!" exclaimed Henry under his breath. "Splendid
shooting! They're bold warriors who will now face the Keepers of the
Pass."

All the warriors save the two who had been slain were hidden in the
dense thicket or behind stony outcroppings, and again the tremendous
voice of Long Jim floated on waves of air above them.

"Why don't you keep comin'?" he shouted. "I invited you to come an' you
started, but you've stopped! Everythin' is waitin' fur you, all the
gaudy Roman couches that my friend Paul has told me about, an' the
gushin' fountains, an' the wreaths uv rose leaves to wrap aroun' your
necks, an' the roses droppin' from the ceilin' on the table loaded with
ven'son, an' turkey, an' wild pigeons, an' rabbits an' more other kinds
uv game than I kin tell you about in a night. Why don't you come on an'
take the big places you're invited to at our banquet, you miserable,
low-down, sneakin', wrinkled old squaws!"

A wild yell of rage came once more from the bushes, and again Henry
laughed deep in his throat. He knew how the taunt stung the Indians, and
Long Jim's eloquence, the dam now having been taken down, flooded on.

"Here, you red-skinned barbarians!" he shouted. "Come into our house an'
we'll teach you how to live! The tables are all set an' the couches are
beside 'em. The hummin' birds' tongues are done to a turn an' the best
singers an' dancers are all on hand to entertain you!"

Henry knew that Jim's patter had come from Paul's stories of the old
Romans, and now he was applying it with gusto to the wild scene lost in
the vast green wilderness. But he was sure that the Indians would not
return to a headlong charge. The little fortress in stone was
practically impregnable to frontal attack and they would resort instead
to cunning and subterfuge.

"Ain't you comin'!" thundered the v