nd made his bed, Ramon took the little
automatic revolver out of its scabbard and went down the canyon a quarter
of a mile, slipping along in the shadow of the brush that lined the banks
of the stream. This was necessary because a half-moon made the open glades
bright. He paused and peered a dozen times. So cautious were his movements
that he came within forty feet of a drinking deer, and was badly startled
when it bounded away with a snort and a smashing of brush. But he saw
nothing dangerous and went back to his camp and to bed. There he lay awake
for an hour, still troubled, oppressed by a vague feeling of the
littleness and insecurity of human life.

A long, rippling snort of fear from his saddle horse, picketed near his
bed, awakened him and probably saved his life. When he opened his eyes, he
saw the figure of a man standing directly over him. He was about to speak,
when the man lifted his arms, swinging upward a heavy club. With quick
presence of mind, Ramon jerked the blankets and the heavy canvas tarpaulin
about his head, at the same time rolling over. The club came down with
crushing force on his right shoulder. He continued to roll and flounder
with all his might, going down a sharp slope toward the creek which was
only a few yards away. Twice more he felt the club, once on his arm and
once on his ribs, but his head escaped and the heavy blankets protected
his body.

The next thing he knew, he had gone over the bank of the creek, which was
several feet high in that place, and lay in the shallow icy water.
Meantime he had gotten his hand on the automatic pistol. He now jerked
upright and fired at the form of his assailant, which bulked above him.
The man disappeared. For a moment Ramon sat still. He heard footsteps, and
something like a grunt or a groan. Then he extricated himself from the
cold, sodden blankets, climbed upon the bank, and began cautiously
searching about, with his weapon ready. He found the club--a heavy length
of green spruce-and put his hand accidentally on something wet, which he
ascertained by smelling it to be blood.

He was shivering with cold and badly bruised in several places, but he was
afraid to build a fire. In case his enemy were not badly injured or had a
companion, that would have been risking another attack. He stood in the
shadow of a spruce, stamping his feet and rubbing himself, acutely
uncomfortable, waiting for daylight and wondering what this attack meant.
He doubted wh