Another cry indicated that one of their bullets had found a mark, and following a scattering return volley from the darkness there were sounds of a hurried scuttling for cover.
“Anyone touched?” Jack asked.
“I think I lost a little hair,” said Wilson quietly.
“Me too,” said Alex. “But a miss is as good as a mile, you know. And we have the advantage so far.”
“Sh!” warned Jack. In the silence came the sound of running footsteps farther up the gully, followed by a continuous rattle of falling stones.
“They’re making a rush up another path. Quick, and stop them!” exclaimed Wilson, starting to his feet.
“Hold on,” Alex interrupted as they reached the crest of the slope. “Perhaps it’s a ruse to get us away, so they can start the fire. You two run and chase them down, and I’ll stay and watch here. If you need help, shout.”
Wilson and Jack sprang away along the brink of the ravine. A hundred yards distant the sounds of men ascending rose from directly beneath them. Without pause they fired. Cries of rage followed, and as the boys dropped to the ground a dozen bullets whined over them. Promptly Wilson replied with the entire seven shots from one of his pistols, there was a crash as of someone falling, then a general scrambling as the entire party apparently tumbled precipitately down the steep slope. Rising to their feet, the boys fired several more shots, and hastened back toward Alex.
As they neared him the crash of his rifle told he had guessed rightly that another attempt would be made to light the fire.
“Quick!” he said, slamming the loading mechanism. “They’re sticking to it!”