They were at bay and the Irishman was right in his declaration that they could do nothing but fight it out as best they might. The question of further flight was settled by the trap in which they were caught.
They paused, expecting to hear the tramp of the Indians behind them, but, as it continued quiet, Mickey ventured upon a more critical inspection of their fortress, as it may be termed. He found little which has not already been mentioned, except the fact that the wall on their left sloped inward, as it ascended, to such a degree that the width at the top was several feet less than at the bottom. This was an important advantage, for, in case they were attacked from above, it was in their power to place themselves beyond the immediate reach of a whole war party by any means at their command.
“Do ye hear anything?” asked Mickey, bending his head to listen.
They were silent a few minutes, during which the occasional tramp of a horse’s hoof was noted. Beyond a doubt, the entire war-party of Apaches were at the mouth of the fissure and probably a number had already entered it.
“They haven’t tried to rush in pell-mell, head-over-heels,” added Mickey, after they had stood thus a short time; but they are sneaking along, just as they always do when they’re on the thrack of a gintleman.”
“How soon do you think they will be here?” asked Fred, who had recovered his breath, and who began to feel something like a renewal of hope, faint though it might be, at the continued silence of their foes.
“Can’t say, me laddy; but they may come any minute, and we must keep eyes and ears open, and be ready to do the last act in style. Don’t ye mind that we’re very much in the same fix that we was when cotched in the cave, barring that we’re worse off here than we were there? If some one should let a lasso down from the top, we might climb up just as we did there; but that’s one of the things that ain’t likely to happen.”
“Suppose we creep back a ways to see what the Indians are doing,” ventured Fred, who was puzzled at the silence of their enemies, which had now continued for some time.
“No need of doing that just yet. They’ll let us know what they’re at and what they mane—whisht!”
At that juncture the Irishman detected a movement among the wood and undergrowth of the ravine, and his rifle was at his shoulder like a flash. Fred understood, or, rather, suspected, the cause of the trouble, though he saw nothing. Only a few seconds elapsed when the trigger was pulled. The sharp crack of the weapon had scarcely broke the stillness when the shriek of a warrior was heard only a few feet away, followed by a threshing of the vines and vegetation, as the comrades of the slain brave caught and hurriedly dragged him back toward the greater ravine beyond.