“He has gone for Whirlwind and the Blackfeet. Wagh; the Sioux do not fear the Blackfeet dogs.”
“That must be it,” replied the white leader, evidently puzzled, “but I don’t know why he took twelve men with him. We might make another dash at them, boys.”
“No you don’t!” replied one of the men. “I didn’t enlist for this sort of work, and though I’ll go as far as any man in the interest of the Company, I don’t feel called on to lose my scalp.”
“You’re a dreadful cautious boy, Ned,” said the leader. “So cautious that it looks almost like cowardice.”
“I think I can prove I ain’t a coward,” said the man addressed, drawing a revolver and covering the form of his leader. “Back yer opinion, Jim Diggs; draw iron.”
“I cave!” said Jim Diggs, waving aside the obnoxious weapon. “I didn’t say you was a coward, but I said you was dreadful cautious—and so you be.”
“Caution is a good thing ain’t it, Jim?” said the man, still covering him with the deadly weapon.
“Caution is bully!” was the reply of Jim Diggs; “don’t p’int that thing at me—it might go off.”
The man returned the weapon to his belt, satisfied with the lesson which he had given, but certain at the same time that he would have to answer for the act at some future day. The Indians looked calmly on, expecting a fray, and were rather disappointed when they saw Jim Diggs bottle up his wrath and say no more.
The position they occupied was a strange one. The pass was not more than twenty paces wide, bordered by perpendicular rocks twenty feet high without lateral passes on either side. No movement was made by the trappers, and their enemies did not care for another close grapple by daylight. An hour of inaction passed, and the ruffians began to gather courage and talk of another attack.