"Sure an' it's the first toime I iver druv a muffled mule."
"Muffle yer tongue," growled old Rube. "That's one thing I forgot."
They made good speed, and before long Charlie Adams was aware that the narrow wagon trail they were following had led them between great walls of rock.
"We'll do it," whispered old Rube to Charlie. "They're up there on the cliffs, some of 'em, as a matter of course; but we're going to beat 'em this time. They have an awful advantage over any fellows down here. All they need do is to tumble down rocks on us in some places. There's just one bad spot to go by now," said he, a little later, "but it's almost daylight. I wish we were well past the neck."
Nearer and nearer drew the walls of rock, but there were no sounds made for them to echo, until at last, as he and the Senator pulled their ambulance over an unusually rough place, and paused for breath, the Governor seized the opportunity to stretch out his ugly neck.
Oh! what a bray was that! It seemed to fill every cranny of the Union Pass, and stir up the sleeping echoes, and climb up over the crags, and old Rube instantly shouted:
"Whip up, boys! Forward now for your lives! That thar was jest one other thing we forgot to muffle."
The whips cracked sharply enough now, and the Governor received at least his share in payment for his music.
There was no more silence. In less than a minute the heights above them rang with fierce whoops and yells. The savages had been taken a little by surprise, but they were there, and they had been waiting for that train. It had nearly passed them, but they were determined to make an effort for its capture.
Whoop after whoop, and then the crash and thud of rocky masses tumbling down the chasm.