his hindquarters. The north bank was higher and still screened us, though we bent down to avoid any possibility of being seen.

Just as we turned out of the gully we heard a great powwow. The Apaches had found the place where the antelope had been killed. We were now on the plain in full sight. It seemed to me that we loomed up twice as big as life. We were absolutely stripped naked now of the protection of the gully.

Our very daring helped us, and we rode directly up the bank of the gully. The Apaches were gathered around the place where the antelope had lain. They were examining the ground, then suddenly two of the braves caught sight of us. Never was there a more surprised crowd of Indians. Stealth they could understand, but not such open bravado. For a moment they seemed actually stunned.

Jim brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired and I promptly followed suit. An Indian and a pony fell. Two out at the first shot. It warmed our blood with confidence.

War was declared. With fierce yells they started in pursuit. Firing a volley that went wild, though there was a whistle of bullets over our heads and some spurted the dust on the plain short of us.

"Now let them go," yelled Jim.

Coyote and Piute seemed to fully realize the situation and away they flew, all their pent up energy going into a wild burst of speed that lasted for a half mile.

We gained on most of the Indians, but the big chief and two others kept nearly parallel with us on the other side of the gully, trying to cut us off from the mountains.

CHAPTER IV

THE CHASE

In the last mile, however, we pulled away from them, as their ponies did not have the well fed strength of ours. We exchanged shots as we rode, but the motion and speed made our aim uncertain, as fortunately too was theirs.

I found out later that the nearest call I had, or rather Coyote had, was where a bullet struck into the piece of antelope that was swung on my saddle.

With a last thrilling dash we charged into the shelter of the foothills among the rocks and pines. Here we swung off from our ponies and ran back to check our foremost pursuers. The three who were in the lead had absolutely disappeared.

But a half mile below were to be seen the rest of the Indians scampering like mad to overtake us.

"Where have those three gone?" I asked.

"They have taken to the ravine," replied Jim, "we can't stop here, they would surround us in a jiffy. We will have to go higher up the canyon."

There was no chance for us to make our home camp, for the Indians that were coming up the plain, would have headed us off.

So we sprang on our ponies again. They had recovered their wind in the brief rest we had given them. With the impetus of the great danger just behind us we started on a reckless dash up the canyon. We were determined to find some place we could defend, even if we could not escape.

We tore through the brush, jumped fallen logs, scrambled between rocks, zigzagged from this side to that of the ravine that was not precipitous enough for a canyon.

We urged our horses to the limit of their strength, and they were perfectly willing. Jim was in the lead and his unerring quickness of instinct guided him in finding the best trail.

The storm was darkening down the mountains before us and the thunder was rolling from height to height. The gray rain was sweeping down from the summits it seemed to us as if in a solid wall.

The ravine now broadened into a sort of a valley with high mountain sides partially clothed with pines, in some places very thick, and on the upper slopes were great granite boulders.

We saw above us now a conical hill, several hundred feet high, with a growth of pine upon the slopes and crowned with great rocks. It was half a mile distant and near the center of the valley.

"There is the place for us," said Jim, "if we are brought to bay."

"It looks to me as if we were going to stand these beggars off," I said, "until we can cross over the mountains to our camp."

"Yes, but you never can tell in this country what is going to happen," said Jim.

We caught occasional glimpses of our pursuers down the ravine but they had not gained much on us. We skirted the base of the conical hill and had gone on for a short distance; it was growing dusky under the shadow of the storm, when a zigzag flash of lightning revealed the slope above us with startling distinctness.

"See what's ahead," I cried, for Jim was looking over his shoulder at the Indians following us.

A party of braves were trailing down the upper slope.

One thing and only one thing was left for us to do. Instantly we turned our horses squarely around and made for the hill we had just passed.

We were not a second too soon, for the first party were coming up the ravine, running swiftly like hounds upon our trail. We fired one volley and then charged up the slope full tilt over rocks, dodging as best we could the trees.

It did not take us long to reach the summit. The Indians did not attempt to follow us, but spread out under shelter, satisfied apparently to have us surrounded. In a short time the upper party of braves had joined forces with our pursuers.

Before we had fairly reached the top the rain swept down the mountain valley, giving us protection from the marksmanship of the enemy.

"This place is all right," said Jim, "we could stand them off for a hundred years if we had food and water."

"Yes," I joined in, "it is like a regular fort only we can't get the horses up."

"We will see to that later," returned Jim, "let's examine these rocks."

We left our horses below and crawled up a narrow trail between two rocks and found on top a depression with stones surrounding it, in which grew some bushes and scattered tufts of grass.

"Here is a good place for shelter," suggested Jim.

"It certainly is," I acquiesced.

There was a big flat rock supported on two others and room for us to crawl under if we stooped down. Underneath was a large enough space for our camp, the ground covered with clean gravel.

"This will be our bedroom," I proposed.

"Yes," replied Jim, "if you don't mind the upper floor in case of fire."

"We must get the horses up," I said, "or the Indians will be stealing them."

"Don't you believe it," returned Jim, "those beggars are not going to risk their valuable lives. They think they have got us cold without taking any chances. All they will have to do is to squat around and wait for us to be starved out."

So we went down below where our ponies were patiently waiting, their heads drooping. They were just about played out. It had been a terrible chase and they had saved our lives by their speed and stamina.

We got them up the narrow path between the rocks. Only at one point were we exposed to the Indian fire and then we got it. An irregular succession of shots rang out and some of the bullets left their splotches on a rock above us, but most of them went very wild. The heavy rain was a veil of protection.

One thing we had learned was that the Indians were bad marksmen and were easily flurried. They were too anxious to save their own skins to take careful aim. Even when they had a good quiet chance they did not seem able to land a direct blow.

Then it is hard to shoot accurately at a steep angle; the wind too and the rain as suggested, helped us, for the latter blurred everything. So we were not greatly worried by the shooting.

In a few seconds we had got the ponies on top. And we thought they were comparatively safe, but there was one side that was lower than the others and the Indians kept potting away.

"We will soon fix that," said Jim. "Make Coyote lie down out of range."

This I had no difficulty in doing. He seemed to know instinctively what was expected of him.

"Now," said Jim, "we will build up that side."

So we went