There came a fierce volley from a hundred rifles and a white flight of arrows from the concealed Indians. They kept it up for awhile, too, in a burst of savage rage that sent a chill to my heart.
The rocks around and back of us were spattered with lead, but that was the extent of the damage.
"You got a salute that time for fair, Jim," I said.
"Yes," he replied, "and I got the Indian."
"Don't take another chance like that," I begged.
"Not till the next time," he replied.
So the day wore on, with occasional flurries like the above to keep things moving. If the day before had been stormy and rainy, this made up for it. The sun shone with the strong directness of the higher altitudes. All the moisture had been dried up on top of our rock.
The horses began to get restless for water. Jim moistened their tongues as best he could, but we had to be saving of our little supply of water.
The night passed with even less of incident than the previous one. It was evident that the Indians were perfectly satisfied with their waiting game, as well they might. It looked a sure thing.
The next day things looked bad for us. There seemed a peculiar sultriness in the air that was unusual in the mountains. There was a smoky haze over everything.