eard the beat of hoofs upon the
sod.

In half a minute after he had uttered the warning cry which so suddenly
halted his warriors, he was quite sure he heard such sounds, and a
great many others.

First came a scattering but hot and rapid crash of rifle firing, then a
fierce chorus of whoops and yells; and then, before the two ranks of
Lipans could join in one body, a wild rush of shouting horsemen dashed
in between them. There was a twanging of bows, a clatter of lances,
more firing, with greater danger of somebody getting hit than there had
been at first, and Two Knives found his little band assailed on all
sides at once by superior numbers. The orders of Many Bears were that
the rear rank of his foes should only be kept at bay at first, so that
he could centre nearly all his force upon the foremost squad. The
latter contained a bare two dozen of chosen warriors, and their courage
and skill were of little use in such a wild hurly-burly.
To-la-go-to-de and three more even suffered the disgrace of being taken
prisoners, knocked from their ponies, tied up, and led away toward the
Apache village. Had Captain Skinner and his miners been on hand, with
all the Lipans they had killed or wounded, the result might have been
different. But Captain Skinner was hurrying his men toward the ford,
and nothing could restore to usefulness the warriors who had been
smitten by their bullets.

The rear rank of the Lipans had made a brave charge at once, but it had
taught them all they needed to know. That was a lost battle, and their
only remaining hope was in the speed of their horses. They turned from
that fruitless charge as one man, and rode swiftly away--swiftly, but
not wildly, for they were veterans, and they kept well together. They
were dangerous men to follow, and the main body of their foes was not
yet ready to try it.

By the time old Two Knives and his three warriors were safely tied up,
his fugitives' "rear rank" had galloped quite a distance, all the while
successfully beating off the squads of "young braves" that annoyed them.

There is an old proverb that "a stern chase is always a long chase,"
and the Lipans were even better mounted than their pursuers. Besides,
they all knew exactly what to do, and the night seemed to be getting
darker, as if for their benefit. They could not mistake their way, and
there were very few Apaches near them when they at last rode into their
own camp.

There was no time for