The very instant this point was reached Dick Morris dropped the lad and exclaimed:
"Now run like thunder, and don't stop till you reach the top."
Then, wheeling about, he leaped back several paces to the assistance of Tom, who was defending the pass like a second Leonidas against the swarming warriors.
A huge, stalwart redskin, who probably believed his strength to be superior to that of the scouts, advanced boldly and seized him, with the evident purpose of drawing him down among the others and making him a prisoner in spite of himself. But he found he had made a slight miscalculation when he was lifted like a child from the ground and hurled over the heads and among the glowering redskins crowding below. The momentum of his body was such that a half dozen were forced backward and almost off their feet. Had the Apaches chosen to do so, it would have been an easy matter to have shot all three of the fugitives, or even two of them, and taken the lad; but they had some old score against Tom and Dick, which could not be wiped out by mere death alone. Now that such a fine opportunity was presented for securing them and indulging in all the luxury of torture, they were not the ones to throw away the chance. Hence, they persistently refused to fire and as persistently forced their way upward.
This check, which might have been simply temporary, was emphasized and made more permanent in its character by Dick, who at the critical moment seized a goodly sized rock, which he drove down among the wretches like the discharge from a fifty pounder. It made terrible work and the discomfited Apaches retreated tumultuously to the bottom, while the hunters hastened away again to the top of the hill. Ned was there awaiting their coming with the most painful misgiving about their coming at all. He knew from the uproar that a desperate fight was raging in the narrow pass, and he feared that the resentful Apaches would overcome the braver hunters, who were defending themselves so desperately. But there they were at last, with the announcement that their enemies had fallen back and a temporary peace was given them.
"Can't expect it to last long, howsomever," added Tom, who breathed scarcely any faster from his terrific exertions. "Them skunks are bound to swallow us whole, and we've got to kick hard to prevent it."
As soon as a little breathing time had been gained, the besieged made an examination of their immediate surroundings, to learn the probable form in which this business was likely to end. The hunters removed all superfluous articles from their persons,—in the shape of canteens and a few appurtenances,—like pugilists who are stripping for a fight.
The surface of Hurricane Hill was generally level, and free from the boulders and obstructions which one would naturally expect to find there, which Tom Hardynge explained by saying that they had all been rolled down upon the Indians below by parties who had been driven to this dernier resorte years before. The position of the three, therefore, was very much as if they were upon the extensive top of a tower which was reached by a narrow stairway, their province being to defend it against all comers.
For some time after the repulse of the Apaches, all remained quiet. Of course, they took charge of the two mustangs that the fugitives had been compelled to leave behind in their flight and then disposed themselves around the refuge, like those who had made up their minds to wait until the fruit dropped into their hands.
The afternoon was drawing to a close, and Ned naturally viewed the coming night with distrust. Darkness seemed to be the appropriate time for the fiends to work, and more than once he shuddered as he pictured in his imagination the merciless wretches swarming up the narrow path and spreading over the top, like the rush of waters when bursting up from some hidden fountain.