ose stones were lying in the hollow, and he
cautiously built them into a low parapet, which increased his
protection. Then, peeping over the stones, he tried to discover the
location of his enemy or enemies, if they should be plural, but he saw
only the valley below with its touch of sheltered green, the vast rocky
sides about it, and over all the towering summit of the White Dome.
There was nothing, save the flight of the feathered arrows, to indicate
that a human being was near. Far out on the jutting crag the mountain
sheep still stood, a magnificent ram, showing no consciousness of
danger or, if conscious of it, defying it. Will suddenly lost all desire
to take his life, due, perhaps, to his own resentment at the effort of
somebody to take his own.

He believed that the arrows had come from above, but whether from a
point directly overhead or to the right or to the left he had no way of
telling. It was a hidden foe that he had to combat, and this ignorance
was the worst feature of his position. He did not know which way to
turn, he did not know which road led to escape, but must lie in his
narrow groove until the enemy attacked.

He had learned from his comrades, experienced in the wilderness and in
Indian warfare, that perhaps the greatest of all qualities in such
surroundings was patience, and if it had not been for such knowledge he
might have risked a third arrow long ago, but, as it was, he kept
perfectly still, flattening himself against the cliff, sheltered by the
edge of the natural bowl and the little terrace of stones he had built.
He might have fired his rifle to attract the attention of his comrades,
but he judged that they were at the camp and would not hear his shot. He
would fight it out himself, especially as he believed that he was
menaced by but a single Indian, a warrior who perhaps had been stalking
the mountain sheep also, when he had beheld the creeping lad.

Great as was the strength of the youth's will and patience, he began to
twist his body a little in the stony bowl and seek here and there for a
sight of his besieger. He could make out stony outcrops and projections
above him, every one of which might shelter a warrior, and he was about
to give up the quest when a third arrow whistled, struck upon the ledge
that he had built and, instead of falling into the chasm, rebounded into
the bowl wherein he lay.

The barb had been broken by the rock against which it struck so hard,
though the s