In spite of this, when he had found a favorable finger of rock outthrust the scout swung the noose of his rope, and with a wonderful cast fastened it round the tip of the rocky projection on the other side.
“Here goes!” he said.
Clutching the rope, he ran forward, then flung himself boldly out over the black gulf. The momentum carried him across, so that his feet struck the opposite wall. As soon as he could steady the oscillation of the rope, he began to climb it, hand over hand.
Though they had shown some evidences of an unfriendly attitude, Buffalo Bill’s daring in going to the aid of Juniper Joe stilled the Indians into peace.
Slowly the scout climbed up the rope, over the dizzy chasm, mounting steadily until he gained the spot where Juniper Joe lay.
Then he saw that Juniper Joe was not only not dead, but treacherously inclined; the fellow’s eyes were blazing, and as Buffalo Bill swung into the notch at his side, Juniper Joe lifted himself and drove at the scout with a knife.
Though the surprise was stupendous, the scout was equal to the occasion; he dropped down on the treacherous scoundrel, and gripped him.
A struggle followed; but Juniper Joe had not recovered from the jarring effects of his fall, and the scout was quickly the victor.
Juniper Joe dropped back, panting and glaring.
“Curse you!” he fumed.