“Up here!” Sandy shouted, moving down the slope. “We’re up by the cave!” Suddenly he felt himself grabbed from behind and slammed to the ground.
A rifle roared and Sandy heard the angry whine of a bullet as it passed over his head.
“Back inside!” Joe shouted.
Sandy looked up to see three figures coming toward them. “The Crows!” he gasped.
“Right!” Joe muttered as he struggled to his feet. But the first of the Crows was already on top of them. With a last desperate lunge, the Indian covered the remaining distance by throwing himself on Joe. Sandy saw him slash down with his rifle butt and saw Joe duck the blow. Then the two men were rolling on the ground, fighting grimly for possession of the gun.
Sandy barely had time to lean down and grab an apple-sized rock before the other two Indians dove at him. Sandy heaved the rock at one of them, saw it strike him full in the chest, and then whirled to meet the charge of the second. Just as they were about to close, a snarling black-and-tan flash brushed Sandy to one side and fastened on the Indian’s throat. The Crow gave a frightened scream and battled to keep away from the slashing jaws. It was Drum, Hank’s lead dog, who had thrown himself at the Indian. The others in the pack were right behind him.
With a yell of terror, the Indian disappeared under a writhing wave of growling dogs.
“Down, Drum!” came an authoritative voice. Hank Dawson was striding purposefully toward the mass of dogs. He waded into them without fear and grabbed Drum firmly by the scruff of the neck. “Back!” he ordered. Drum shook himself and moved off a few paces, sitting watchfully on his hindquarters, ready to leap at his master’s command. The other dogs of the pack followed his example. The Indian was lying on the ground, his torn hands covering his head.
Sandy glanced around to see how Joe was doing. He had subdued his attacker and was standing to one side, panting heavily, a rifle in his hand. The third Crow was sitting where Sandy’s rock had flattened him, a look of dazed surprise on his face.
“All right now,” Hank Dawson said sternly. “What’s this all about?”