"I'd call it!" said Pine. "Knock off work, boys. Time's come."
Not quite, but a brave had ridden swiftly in with notice of the approach of the Apaches, and all the other scouts were fast following his good example. The first whoop had been given by the Big Tongue from behind the largest rocks of the barrier, but he was soon calmly walking up and down outside, as if waiting for the whole Apache nation, and also ready to be admired by somebody. One-eye was also beyond the barrier, for some reason, but he came in at the call of Two Arrows. There was no danger but what the Big Tongue would come in without any calling.
Na-tee-kah and Ha-ha-pah-no had done very little that morning but recite to their Nez Percé friends and relatives the wonders of their visit in the pale-face camp, and exhibit their rich store of ornaments and other presents. They had also combed and brushed each other's hair in a way that excited no little envy. They were yet busy at it when the voice of the Big Tongue was first heard at the barrier, and every squaw knew what it signified.
"Two Arrows," exclaimed Na-tee-kah, "has rifle now; kill heap."
"Big Tongue great brave," said Ha-ha-pah-no. "Shoot mouth; 'Pache heap die."
The horses, mules, and ponies of both Nez Percés and miners were all driven by the squaws away up the notch, under some trees, to be as secure as might be from stray bullets, if any should be fired. The squaws themselves were generally very willing to be as safe as were the animals; but Na-tee-kah's dusky cheeks were almost red with excitement. In spite of all prohibition, she broke away from under the trees and darted off towards the rocks on the side of the notch opposite the mine. It was only a minute before Ha-ha-pah-no followed her, with no idea of bringing her back, whatever she said to the rest on starting.
"See fight. Squaw shoot, too, sometime. Na-tee-kah heap brave."
Na-tee-kah did not utter a sound until she had gained a spot behind a huge bowlder, from which she could peer out and down, and see what was going on at the barrier and beyond it. She felt well paid for her trouble. The braves of the Nez Percés were all there or behind the rocky fragments on either side, and mingled with them here and there were the red shirts and slouched hats of the miners. The Big Tongue was no longer parading over the slope in front of the gap. He had even cut short an uncommonly fine whoop in his retreat to a place as safe as that occupied by Na-tee-kah or Ha-ha-pah-no.
There were excellent reasons for such a retreat, for several scores of Apaches were now riding back and forth, just out of good rifle-range, as if they were a little in doubt as to what they had better do next. Not an Apache among them had an idea how many might be the rifles among those rocks, but all were sure that they were there. It was just as Jonas had said, and Yellow Pine. It required an immense amount of courage to ride up to hidden sharpshooters, and the Apaches were disposed to whoop a good deal before they tried the experiment. Their head chief had commanded that there should be no random firing, and now he was disposed to try what could be done with a "talk." One solitary brave rode forward a distance in advance of his comrades, dismounted, laid down his rifle and lance, took off his pistol-belt ostentatiously, held up his hands wide open to declare himself unarmed, reached out his right hand with the palm up to say that he was peaceful, and then walked slowly forward.
"Wants to get near enough to see what he can see," said Yellow Pine. "Snake trick. I'll go out and meet him, jedge."