ing in toward the creek."

"Then we'd better make our field of battle and fortify as fast as we
can."

The horses and mules were tethered in the lowest ground they could find
among the cottonwoods near the edge of the creek, where the four hoped
they would escape the bullets. Then they built in all haste a circular
breastwork of fallen wood and of their own packs.

"Thar's one satisfaction 'bout it," said the Little Giant grimly. "Ef
we're besieged here a long time we'll hev water only a few feet away.
Many a man on the plains could hev held his own ag'inst the painted imps
ef he could hev reached water. What do you see now, young William?"

"Both horns of their crescent. They're on top of the swells, but have
come almost to the cottonwoods. Do you look for 'em to cross the
creek?"

"Sooner or later they will, an' we'll have to guard from all directions,
but I reckon the attack jest now will come straight in front an' 'long
the stream on the flanks."

"And the hardest push will be on the flanks?"

"Yes, that would be good strategy. They mean, while the warriors in
front are keeping us busy, to press in from both sides. What do you see
now, young William?"

"The forces on the flanks have passed out of sight among the
cottonwoods, and the one in front is still advancing slowly. The
warriors there seem to be armed chiefly with bows and arrows."

"Meant mostly to draw our attention. The rifles are carried by the men
on the flanks. B'ars out what we said 'bout thar plan. These warriors,
like some others we met, hev got to learn a lot 'bout the new an'
pow'ful repeatin' rifles. Do you think, Jim, them in front hev now rid
within range?"

"In a minute or two they'll be within your range, Giant."

"Then do you think I'd better?"

"Yes. They've made their semi-circle for attack. Tell 'em in mighty
plain language they oughtn't to do such a thing without consulting us."

"Give 'em a hint, so to speak, Jim?"

"That's what I mean."

The Little Giant levelled his rifle at the approaching horsemen. The
moonlight was silvery and brilliant, giving him fine chance for aim, and
not in vain had his friend, Boyd, called him the greatest shot in the
West. The rifle cracked, there was a little spit of fire in the
moonlight, and the foremost Indian fell from his pony. The band uttered
a single shout of rage, but did not charge. Instead, the warriors drew
back hastily.

"That settles it," said Brady. "It's just a feint in f