The main thing to decide now was how to hold the Apachés in check while a retreat was made to the mountain, where all was right, the horses and cattle being in their strong places, and every one on the alert.
The Beaver decided the matter by undertaking, with one of his men, to keep the Apachés from getting to the top till their friends had reached the rock, where they were to be ready to cover his retreat.
The Doctor made a little demur at first, but the chief insisted, and after an attempt on the part of the Apachés at fighting their way up had been met by a sharp volley, the whole party, saving the Beaver and one follower, retreated to the rock fortress, where they speedily manned all the points of defence, and waited eagerly for the coming of the chief. But to Bart’s horror he did not come, while simultaneously there was a shout from the Doctor and another from Joses, the one giving warning that a very strong body of mounted men was appearing over the plains, the other that the savages from the canyon had fought their way up the chimney, and were coming on to the attack.
Chapter Thirty Three.
Mourning lost Friends.
The failure of the Beaver and his follower to put in an appearance made Bart’s heart sink down like lead, while Joses turned to him with a dull look of misery in his eye.
“It’s bad, Master Bart,” he said; “it’s very bad. I hates all Indians as hard as ever I can hate ’em, but somehow the Beaver and me seemed to get on well together, and if I’d knowed what was going to happen, it isn’t me as would have come away and left him in the lurch.”
“No, Joses, neither would I,” said Bart, bitterly. “But do you think—”