it's good an' dark they're goin' to try to creep up on us.
Well, let 'em. We kin see pretty nigh ez good in the dark ez in the
light, can't we, Jim Boyd?"

"I reckon we can see good enough, Giant, to draw a bead on anything that
comes creeping, creeping after our hair."

Again Will felt pride that he was associated with two such formidable
champions of the wild, but he did not let pride keep him from selecting
a good high stony outcrop behind which he lay with his rifle ready and
his revolver loose in his belt. Now and then, however, he held his rifle
in only one hand and used the glasses so valuable to him, and which he
was beginning to prize so highly.

Much time passed, however, and it passed slowly. Young Clarke realized
that the other name for the Sioux was patience, but it was hard on his
nerves, nevertheless. He wanted to talk, he longed to ask questions of
the two borderers, but his will kept him from doing so. He was resolved
not to appear nervous or garrulous at such a time.

The night deepened. The twilight had passed long since. Many of the
stars did not come out and heavy waves of dusk rolled up the valley. The
slopes of the opposite mountain became invisible, nor did Will see the
dwarf cedars in which his glasses told him a portion of the Sioux band
had lain hidden.

The time was so long that his muscles felt stiff and sore, and he
stretched arms and legs vigorously to restore the circulation. Moreover
the elevation was so great that it was growing quite cold in the pass,
and he became eager for the warriors to attack if they were going to
attack at all. But he remembered the saying that patience was only
another name for Sioux and steeled his heart to endure.

The three were lying close together, all behind rocky upthrusts, and
after a space that seemed a thousand years or so to Will the Little
Giant edged toward him and whispered:

"Young William, you wouldn't mind lendin' me them glasses o' yourn once
more?"

"As often as you like, Giant."

"Hand 'em over, then. Even ef it's night they've got a way o' cuttin'
through the dark, an' I feel it's 'bout time now fur the Sioux to be
comin'. They like to jump on an unsuspectin' foe 'bout midnight."

He took an unusually long look and handed the glasses back to Will. Then
he whispered to both the lad and the hunter:

"I could make 'em out snakin' theirselves up the pass nigh flat on the
rock."

"They hope to get so near in the dark that they can