The ravine now broadened into a sort of a valley with high mountain sides partially clothed with pines, in some places very thick, and on the upper slopes were great granite boulders.
We saw above us now a conical hill, several hundred feet high, with a growth of pine upon the slopes and crowned with great rocks. It was half a mile distant and near the center of the valley.
"There is the place for us," said Jim, "if we are brought to bay."
"It looks to me as if we were going to stand these beggars off," I said, "until we can cross over the mountains to our camp."
"Yes, but you never can tell in this country what is going to happen," said Jim.
We caught occasional glimpses of our pursuers down the ravine but they had not gained much on us. We skirted the base of the conical hill and had gone on for a short distance; it was growing dusky under the shadow of the storm, when a zigzag flash of lightning revealed the slope above us with startling distinctness.
"See what's ahead," I cried, for Jim was looking over his shoulder at the Indians following us.
A party of braves were trailing down the upper slope.
One thing and only one thing was left for us to do. Instantly we turned our horses squarely around and made for the hill we had just passed.
We were not a second too soon, for the first party were coming up the ravine, running swiftly like hounds upon our trail. We fired one volley and then charged up the slope full tilt over rocks, dodging as best we could the trees.