“Ten minutes’ ride.”
“Very well; it is only two minutes’ ride for us to the crevasse south of your castle, and once in there we are willing for them to try their mischief on us. We thank you, just the same, for your kindly warning. And again we thank you for your advice the other day; it saved us lots of trouble and brought us in contact with a child and an old man in whom you may be interested.”
“Who are they?” the girl asked, although she was manifestly nervous for the safety of the scout and his pards.
“Black Coyote and his little daughter have been abandoned to starve by their tribe. I will tell you more when I have time; just now I wish to get my men and horses where they will be protected from Sioux bullets.”
“By ther great horn spoon an’ granny’s ole tin ladle! I c’u’d lick twenty Sioux all alone ef she’d luk on an’ cheer fer ole Nick,” announced Nomad, as he galloped along behind the scout.
The party was barely well below the jagged walls of the fissure when along the base of the cone thundered the war party of Sioux.
The Indians had seen the white riders enter the cleft some distance below the mountain where the walls were not so high or precipitous. They saw, too, the strategical advantages of the position, and were careful to turn aside when they saw five rifles protruding over the top of the wall and pointing in their direction.
The Indians halted, and one rode on in front a short distance and then began riding in a circle.
“He wants to hold a parley,” said the scout.
“I noticed et?” answered the trapper.