had not seen him once during all the long attack, but he noticed
with relief that the sun would soon set beyond the great White Dome. The
snow on the Dome itself was tinged now with fire, but it looked cool
even at the distance, and assuaged a little his heat and thirst. He
knew that bye and bye the long shadows would fall, and then the grateful
cold of the night would come.

[Illustration: The body of a warrior shot downward, striking on the
ledges.]

He moved a little, flexed his muscles, grown stiff by his cramped
position, and as he did so he caught a glimpse of a figure on the south
face of the wall. But it was so fleeting he was not sure. If he had only
brought his glasses with him he might have decided, but he was without
them, and he concluded finally that it was merely an optical illusion.
He and the Indian had the mountain walls to themselves, and the warrior
could not have moved around to that point.

In spite of his decision his eyes at length wandered again to that side
of the wall, and a second time he thought he caught a glimpse of a human
figure creeping among the rocks, but much nearer now. Then he realized
that it was no illusion. He had, in very truth, seen a man, and as he
still looked a rifle was thrust over a ledge, a puff of fire leaping
from its muzzle. From a point above him came a cry that he knew to be a
death yell, and the body of a warrior shot downward, striking on the
ledges until it bounded clear of them and crashed into the valley below.

Then the figure of the man who had fired the shot stepped upon a rocky
shelf, held aloft the weapon with which he had dealt sudden and terrible
death, and cried in a tremendous voice:

"Come forth, young William! Your besieger will besiege no more! Ef I do
say it myself, I've never made a better shot."

It was the Little Giant. Never had the sight of him been more welcome,
and raising himself stiffly to his feet and moving his own rifle about
his head, Will shouted in reply:

"It was not only your greatest shot, but the greatest shot ever made by
anybody."

"Stay whar you are," cried Bent. "You're too stiff an' sore to risk
climbin' jest yet. I'll be with you soon."

But it was almost dark before the Little Giant crept around the face of
the cliff and reached the hollow in which the lad lay. Then he told him
that he had seen some of the rocks falling and as he was carrying Will's
glasses he was able to pick out the warrior at the top of the c