all five of them before reaching the gate.

"Quick--quick!" he urged, "they're attacking on the far side. We been
watchin' at the wrong place, and they've sneaked past through the long
grass. Say, Gid, some of 'em have gotten inside the corral, over the
rails. They're among the ponies right now. Hear 'em? Rube--" he
added, turning to the boy, "you hang back thar outer the line of fire.
Keep an eye on the corral gate."

Shots were being fired in rapid succession now from beyond the curve of
the stockade. The Indians, assailed on both flanks, had scattered
themselves to take cover behind boulders and bushes, and from their
ambush they were aiming their arrows and firing with their repeating
rifles.

An arrow took off Birkenshaw's hat, another grazed Tom Lippincott's
cheek, but most of the Redskins were aiming down the slope in the
direction from which the most effective fire was coming into their
midst.

"Thar's a band of the boys from Three Crossings down yonder," Abe Harum
announced. "See, they're pickin' off a Injun with 'most every shot!"

"I'm figurin' as thar's no more'n one gun down there," declared Isa
Blagg with a wise headshake. "One gun alone. But the man that's
behind it, he sure knows how to shoot. I'm curious t' know just who it
c'n be. Eh? Yes, that's so; they're drawin' off. Guess they've had
about enough. They didn't catch us sleepin', as they thought to."

The Redskins were retiring into the shelter of the neighbouring pine
trees, clearly with the purpose of enticing the defenders away from the
corral. Gideon Birkenshaw, falling into the snare, was planning to
follow them up or to head them off on the farther side of the wood. He
was rallying his forces to give each man his direction when Rube Carter
ran towards him.

"Abe!--Gid!" the boy cried excitedly, "they've broke open the
gate--from the inside! They're stampeding our ponies. Come back and
stop 'em! Say, Gid, Broken Feather's gone off, mounted on your Arab
mare!"

"Eh? What's that? Mounted on Sultana, is he?" Gideon ran back,
refilling the magazine of his rifle as he went. Abe Harum, Tom
Lippincott, and the rest of them followed him.

They found the stout double gate of the corral standing wide open. The
horses had been driven out by the Indians, who moved about, hidden in
their midst. Many of the animals were already at liberty, racing in
close company in the direction taken by the Arab mare.

So dense was the