Swiftly the two rescuers pressed forward.
They climbed over piles of bowlders, crept through narrow defiles, and climbed high steeps.
It seemed that progress must be slow for the ponies of the Indians, and they should be overtaken before long.
Suddenly Barney paused with a sharp cry.
He seized Frank by the arm and pulled him back into the cover of an angle in the mountain wall.
He was none too soon.
The crack of rifles smote upon the air and the shower of bullets came down into the pass.
“Bejabers, I saw the spalpeens just in the nick av time!” declared Barney, peering around the edge of the cliff wall. “Av I hadn’t we’d have been dead gossoons as sure as me name is Barney.”
“You’re right there!” cried Frank, slipping extra cartridges into his rifle; “that was a close call.”
“Indade it was.”