themselves, but the hope was delusive. All was gloom and
darkness now in the Pass except immediately around the two fires. He
could no longer see Manuelito or the mules, but suddenly he heard a
sound of a simultaneous rush and an instant after with hideous shouts
and yells the whole band leaped into view and went tearing down into the
road and up to the rocks where their helpless prisoner still sat bound
and helpless--more dead than alive--and Pike heard the shriek of despair
with which the poor fellow greeted his now half crazy captors.

"My God!" groaned the old soldier, "it is awful to have to lurk here and
make no move to help him. He would have cut all our throats without a
twinge of conscience, but I can't see him tortured nor can I lift a hand
to save him. And here's Kate, and those poor little ones. They can't
help hearing his cries and shrieks. What an awful night 'twill be for
them! No use of my staying up here now. I must go down to them."

Far back in the black recesses of the cave he found them,--Nellie
trembling and sobbing with her head pillowed in Kate's lap and covered
with a shawl so as to shut out, if possible, the awful sounds from
below. The Irishwoman, too, was striving to stop her ears and was at the
same time frantically praying to all the saints in the calendar for help
in their woeful peril, and for mercy for that poor wretch whose mad
cries and imprecations rang out on the still night air even louder than
the yells of his captors. Manful little Ned sat close by his sister's
side, patting her arm from time to time with one hand while he clung to
his rifle with the other. The boy did not shed a tear, though his voice
trembled and his lips quivered as he answered Pike's cheery words. Jim
knelt at his post at the stone breastwork keeping vigilant watch, though
his teeth chattered despite his best efforts, and his eyes were
doubtless bulging out of their sockets.

"You mustn't be sitting here all in the dark," said Pike. "Keep up a
little fire, Ned, my boy. It's so far back and so far up the hill that
the Indians cannot possibly see the light it may make even were they to
come around to the east side of the mountain. They won't to-night,
though. They've found papa's stock of whiskey and brandy and are already
half drunk. They'll lie around there all night long and never come
hunting for us until after sunrise to-morrow, if they do then. We'll
just have fun with these fellows until the cavalry com