There was no answer.
The Lizard and the Mexican raked a quantity of live coals from the fire on to a flat rock.
Behind the tree, Hugh Edwards crouched in readiness.
The two men who were kneeling at the fire rose and started toward the Indian. Sonora Jack faced toward his victim. It was the moment for which the man behind the tree was waiting.
With all his strength, Hugh Edwards ran for the tree against which the three rifles were standing. He reached his goal at the same instant that the men with the coals of fire arrived at the rock.
With a shout, Hugh began emptying his revolver in the general direction of the outlaws.
The Lizard, with a scream of terror, ran for the horses. The Mexican and Sonora Jack, under the combined shock of that fusillade of shots from the direction of their rifles, with those accompanying yells and the Lizard’s screaming flight, leaped for the safety of their mounts. The horses in their fright added to the confusion.
Dropping his revolver and snatching two of the rifles, Hugh ran forward to the Indian. By the time Sonora Jack and his companions had succeeded in mounting their struggling horses, he had cut the ropes that bound Natachee, and the Indian and the white man, from the shelter of the rock, were firing into the shadowy group of plunging animals and cursing men.
As the outlaws disappeared in the darkness beyond the entrance to the amphitheater, Natachee caught his rescuer by the arm:
“Quick, we must get out of this light before Sonora Jack gets hold of himself.”