LITTLE NED'S SHOT.
From the babel of voices that reached old Pike's ears every now and then, and the bustle and noise going on overhead, he judged that there must be twenty or thirty Indians busily engaged in the work of heaping up firewood in front of the cave. The mountain side, as he well knew, was thickly strewn with dry branches, dead limbs, uprooted trees and all manner of combustible material, and the very warriors who, when around their own "rancheria," would have disdained doing a stroke of work of any kind, were now laboring like so many beavers to add to the great pile that was already almost on a level with the breastwork and not more than eight feet away. Some of the logs first thrown had rolled off and scattered down the slope, but enough had remained to make a sure foundation, and once this was accomplished the rest was easy work.
Poor Jim looked around imploringly at his superior.
"Ain't dey some way to stop that, corporal?" he asked.
"Don't you worry, Jim," was the prompt reply. "It will take them an hour more at least to get it big enough and then 'twill do no great harm. We can knock down our barricade so that they can't use it and fall back into the cave where it's dark and cool and where the smoke and flame can't reach us. Keep your eyes on your corner, man!" But though he spoke reassuringly, the old soldier felt a world of anxiety. Under cover of that huge heap of brushwood, growing bigger every minute, it would soon be possible for the Indians from below to crawl unseen close upon them, and set fire to the mass.
Even now he felt certain that there were several of the more daring of the Apaches lurking just around the corners which he and Jim were so faithfully guarding. The negro seemed so utterly abashed at his having been overcome by sleep during the hour before the dawn, and possibly so refreshed by that deep slumber, that now he was vigilance itself.
Within the cave old Kate had seen, of course, the falling of the logs and brushwood, and though she could not comprehend their object it served to keep in mind that their savage foes were all around her and her little charges, and to add to her alternate prayer and wailing. Unable to leave his post, Pike could only call sternly to her from time to time to cry shame upon her for frightening Nellie so, and to remind her that they had shot five Indians without getting a scratch themselves. "We can stand 'em off for hours yet, you old fool," he said, "and the boys from Verde are sure to get here to-day." And whether it was "old" or the "fool" in Pike's contemptuous remark, that stirred her resentment, it certainly resulted that Kate subsided into suffering and indignant protest. Then Ned's brave, boyish voice was heard.
"Corporal! Can't I come to you now? I'm no good here and I'm sick of the row Kate keeps up. You said you'd let me come back."
"Wait a few minutes, Ned. I want to be sure they are not sneaking around these corners," was the reply, followed almost instantly by the bang of Pike's carbine. Kate gave a suppressed shriek and the corporal a shout of exultation. Encouraged by the sound of his voice to suppose that the guard on the east side of the barrier was neglecting his watch, a daring young Apache crawled on all fours around the foot of the rock to take an observation. The black head came in view even as Pike was speaking and the fierce eyes peered cautiously at the breastwork, but the corporal never moved a muscle, and the savage, believing himself unseen, crawled still further into view, until half his naked body was in sight from the narrow slit through which the old trooper was gazing. The brown muzzle of the cavalry carbine covered the creeping "brave," and the next instant the loud report went echoing over the gorge and the Indian, with one convulsive spring, fell back upon the ground writhing in the agonies of death. In striving to drag the body of his comrade back behind the rock another Tonto ventured to show head and shoulder, and came within an ace of sharing his fate, for Pike's next shot whistled within an inch of the flattened nose, and Apache number two dodged back with wonderful quickness, and did not again appear.
This would tend to keep them from sneaking around that particular corner, thought Pike, and he only wished that Jim could have similar luck on his side, but the Indians had grown wary. Time and again the veteran glanced down the hill to see if there was any sign of their crawling upon him from below, but that threatening pile of brushwood now hid most of the slope from his weary, anxious eyes. The crisis could not be long in coming.
"O God!" he prayed, "save these little children. Bring us aid."
Poor old Pike! Even as the whispered words fell from his lips a low, crackling sound caught his ear. Louder it grew, and, looking suddenly to the left, he saw a thin curl of smoke rising through the branches and gaining every instant in volume. Louder, louder snapped the blazing twigs. Denser, heavier grew the smoke. Then tiny darts of flame came shooting upward through the top of the pile and then yells of triumph and exultation rang from the rock above and the hillside below. A minute or two more, and while the Indians continued to pour fresh fuel from above, the great heap was a mass of roaring flame and the heat became intolerable. A puff of wind drove a huge volume of smoke and flame directly into Jim's nook in the fortification, and with a shout that he could hold on no longer the negro dropped back into the cave, rubbing his blinded eyes.
