And no other thought have the two men hearing the hoof strokes. They are sure it is the soldiers returning.
Instinctively they retreat into the house, without taking their prisoner along with them. Tied, he cannot stir from the spot. If he could it would make little difference now. Their determination is to defend themselves, if need be, to the death; and the hut, with its stout timber walls, is the best place they can think of. It has two doors, opening front and back, both of heavy slabs—split trunks of the palmilla. They have been constructed strongly and to shut close, for the nights are sometimes chilly, and grizzly bears stray around the ranche.
Hastily shutting to the doors and barring them they take stand, each at a window, of which there are also two, both being in front. They are mere apertures in the log wall, and of limited dimensions, but on this account all the better for their purpose, being large enough to serve as loopholes through which they can deliver their fire.
The position is not unfavourable for defence. The cabin stands close to a cliff, with but passage way behind. In front the ground is open, a sort of natural lawn leading down to the lake; only here and there a tree diversifies its smooth surface. Across this anyone approaching must come, whether they have entered the valley from above or below. On each flank the façade of the precipice projects outward, so that the abutting points can be seen from either of the windows; and, as they are both within rifle range, an assailant attempting to turn the cabin so as to enter from the back would be exposed to the enfilading fire of those inside. For security against a surround, the spot could not have been better chosen, and with anything like a fair proportion between besiegers and besieged the former would fail. Under the circumstances, however, there is not likely to be this, and for the two men to attempt defending themselves would seem the certain sealing of their doom.
What chance for them to hold the hut against a force of fifty armed men—soldiers—for if the whole of the troop is returning there is this number? It may be not all have re-entered the valley—only a party sent back to bring on the pilferer, who has been missed upon the march. In that case there will be some chance of withstanding their attack. At all hazards it is to be withstood.
What else can the two men do? Surrender, and become the prisoner of Uraga? Never! They know the relentless ruffian too well, and with too good reason. After their experience of him they need expect no mercy. The man who could leave them buried alive to die a lingering death in the gloomy recesses of a cavern, would be cruel enough not only to kill but torture them. They have to “go under,” anyhow, as the prairie hunter expresses it, adding, “Ef we must die let’s do so, killin’ them as kills us. I’m good for half a score o’ them leetle minikin Mexikins, an’ I reck’n you, Frank, kin wipe out as many. We’ll make it a bloody bizness for them afore the last breath leeves our bodies. Air you all churged an’ riddy?”
“I am,” is the response of the Kentuckian, in stern, solemn tones, showing that he, as the Texan, has made up his mind to “die killing.”
Says the latter, “They’ll come out through the trees yonder, where the path runs in. Let’s take the fust as shows, an’ drop him dead. Gie me the chance, Frank. I’m dyin’ to try the doctor’s gun.”
“By all means do so.”
“You fetch the second out o’ his saddle, if a second show. That’ll gie the others a scare, an’ keep ’em back a bit, so’s we’ll hev good time to get loaded agin.”