d have wept at the parting. He
made answer to my caresses: he answered them with a low whimpering
neigh. He knew there was something amiss--that there was danger. Our
hurried movements had apprised him of it; but the moment after, his
altered attitude, his flashing eyes, and the loud snorting from his
spread nostrils, told that he perfectly comprehended the danger. He
heard the distant trampling of hoofs: he knew that an enemy was
approaching. I heard the sounds myself, and rushed back up the butte.
My companions were already upon the summit, busied in building the
rampart around the rock. I joined them, and aided them in the work.

Our _paraphernalia_ proved excellent for the purpose--light enough to be
easily handled, and sufficiently firm to resist either bullets or
arrows. Before the Indians had come within hailing distance, the
parapet was completed; and, crouching behind it, we awaited their
approach.

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

THE WAR-CRY.

The war-cry "How-ow-owgh-aloo-oo!" uttered loudly from a hundred
throats, comes pealing down the valley. Its fiendish notes, coupled
with the demon-like forms that give utterance, to them, are well
calculated to quail the stoutest heart. Ours are not without fear.
Though we know that the danger is not immediate, there is a significance
in the tones of that wild slogan. They express more than the usual
hostility of red to white--they breathe a spirit of vengeance. The
gestures of menace--the brandished spears, and bended bows--the
war-clubs waving in the air--are all signs of the excited anger of the
Indians. Blood has been spilled--perhaps the blood of some of their
chosen warriors--and ours will be sought to a certainty. We perceive no
signs of a pacific intent--no semblance that would lead us to hope for
mercy. The foe is bent on our destruction. He rushes forward to kill!

I have said that the danger was not immediate. I did not conceive it
so. My conception was based upon experience. I had met the prairie
Indians before--in the south; but north or south, I knew that their
tactics were the same. It is a mistake to suppose that these savages
rush recklessly upon death. Only when their enemy is far inferior to
them in numbers--or otherwise an under-match--will they advance boldly
to the fight. They will do this in an attack upon Mexicans, whose
prowess they despise; or sometimes in a conflict with their own kind--
when stimulated by warrior pride, a