away the powder," thought Bart, as he
saw the glare of the fire. "I begin to wish it had been left."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

TWO HORRORS.

Morning at last, and from their hiding-place the fugitives could see
that the Indians were in great numbers, and whilst some were with their
horses, others were gathered together in a crowd about the post-like
tree-trunk half-way between the gate of the mountains, as Bart called
it, and the camp.

The greatest caution was needed to keep themselves from the keen sight
of the Indians, who had apparently seen nothing of the horses' trail;
and as far as Bart could tell, Joses was so far safe. Still it was like
this:--If the Indians should begin to examine the face of the rock, they
must find both entries, and then it was a question of brave defence,
though it seemed impossible but that numbers must gain the mastery in
the end.

"Poor Joses!" thought Bart, and the tears rose to his eyes. "I'd give
anything to be by his side, to fight with him and defend the horses."

Then he began to wonder how many charges of powder he would have, and
how long he could hold out.

"A good many will fall before they do master him," thought Bart, "if
he's not captured already. I wonder whether they have hurt Juan and
Sam."

Just then the crowd about the post fell back, and the Doctor put his
glass to his eye, and then uttered a cry of horror.

He glanced round directly to see if Maude had heard him, but she, poor
girl, had fallen fast asleep in the niche where they had placed her, to
be out of reach of bullets should firing begin.

"What is it, sir?" cried Bart. "Ah, I see. How horrible! The
wretches! May I begin to shoot?"

"You could do no good, and so would only bring the foe down upon my
child," said the Doctor sternly.

"But it is Juan, is it not?" cried Bart, excitedly.

"Yes," said the Doctor, using the glass, "and Sam. They have stripped
the poor fellows almost entirely, and painted Death's heads and
cross-bones upon their hearts."

"Oh yes," cried Bart, in agony, "I can see;" and he looked with horror
upon the scene, for there, evidently already half dead, their breasts
scored with knives, and their ankles bound, Juan and Sam were suspended
by means of a lariat, bound tightly to their wrists, and securely
twisted round the upper part of the old blasted tree. The poor fellows'
hats and a portion of their clothes lay close by them, and as they hung
there, inert and helple