r war some Mexikins
along wi' the whites, an' it war them that did it. An' now we've got to
pay for their cussed crooked conduk."

"What's best for us to do?"

"Thar's no best, I'm afeerd. I kin see no chance 'cept to fight it out
to the bitter eend. Thar's no mercy in them yells--ne'er a morsel o'
it."

"What do they intend doing next, think you?"

"Jest yet 'taint easy to tell. Thar's somethin' on foot among 'em--some
darned Injun trick. Clar as I kin see, that big chief wi' the red cross
on his ribs, air him they call the Horned Lizard; an' ef it be, thar
ain't a cunniner coon on all this contynent. He's sharp enough to
contrive some tight trap for us. The dose we've gin the skunks may keep
'em off for a while--not long, I reck'n. Darnation! Thar's five o' our
fellows wiped out already. It looks ugly, an' like enuf we've all got
to go under."

"Don't you think our best way will be to make a dash for it, and try to
cut through them. If we stay here they'll starve us out. We haven't
water enough in the waggons to give us a drink apiece."

"I know all that, an' hev thort o' 't. But you forget about our hosses.
Thar's only two left alive--yours and myen. All the rest air shot or
stampedoed. Thurfor, but two o' us would stand a chance o' gettin'
clar, an' it slim enough."

"You are right, Walt; I did not think of that I won't forsake the men,
even if assured of my own safety--never!"

"Nobody as knows you, Frank Hamersley, need be tolt that."

"Boys!" cries out Hamersley, in a voice that can be heard all through
the corral; "I needn't tell you that we're in a fix, and a bad one.
There's no help for us but to fight it out. And if we must die, let us
die together."

A response from eight voices coming from different sides--for those
watching the movements of the enemy are posted round the enclosure--
tells there is not a craven among them. Though only teamsters, they are
truly courageous men--most of them natives of Kentucky and Tennessee.

"In any case," continues the owner of the caravan, "we must hold our
ground till night. In the darkness there may be some chance of our
being able to steal past them."

These words have scarce passed the lips of the young prairie merchant,
when their effect is counteracted by an exclamation. It comes from Walt
Wilder, who has been acting as guide to the party.

"Dog-goned!" he cries; "not the shadder o' a chance. They ain't goin'
to give us till night