"Indian dog. Apache," said the chief, pointing out towards the plain.

Bart turned sharply round and gazed in the indicated direction, but he could see nothing, neither could Joses.

The Beaver smiled with a look of superior wisdom.

"The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth," said the interpreter, coming up, "hears the Indian dog, the enemies of his race, on the wind; and he will not stampede the horses and cattle, but leave the bones of his young men upon the plain."

"But where are the Apaches?" cried Bart. "Oh, he means, Joses, that they are out upon the plain, and that it is wise to be ready for them."

"Yes; he means that they are out upon the plain, and that they are coming to-night, my lad," said Joses. Then, turning to the chief, he patted the lock of his rifle meaningly, and the chief nodded, and said, "Yes."

"Come," he said directly after, and he led the frontiersman and Bart to the entrance of the stable, where his followers were putting the last stones in position. Then he took them to the corral, which was also thoroughly well secured with huge stones; and the Indians now took up their rifles, and resuming their ordinary sombre manner, stood staring indifferently about them.

Just then there was a loud hail, and turning quickly round, Bart saw the Doctor waving his hand to them to join him.

"Indians are on the plains," exclaimed the Doctor. "I saw them from the top of the castle,"--he had taken to calling the mountain rock "the castle,"--"with the gla.s.s. They are many miles away, but they may be enemies, and we must be prepared. Get the horses secured, Joses; and you, interpreter, ask the Beaver to see to the cattle."

"All safely shut in, sir," said Bart, showing his teeth; "the Beaver felt that there was danger an hour ago, and everything has been done."

"Capital!" cried the Doctor; "but how could he tell?"

"That's the mystery," replied Bart, "but he said there were Indian dogs away yonder on the plains."

"Indian dog, Apache," said the Beaver, scowling, and pointing towards the plain.

"Yes, that's where they are," said the Doctor, nodding; "he is quite right, and this being so, we must get up into our castle and man the walls. Let me see first if all is safe."

He walked to both entrances, and satisfied himself, saying:

"Yes; they could not be better, but, of course, all depends upon our covering them from above with our rifles, for the Apaches could pull those rocks down as easily as we put them there. Now then, let us go up; the waggons are fortunately empty enough."

The Doctor led the way, pausing, however, to mount a waggon and take a good look-out into the plain, which he swept with his gla.s.s, but only to close it with a look of surprise.

"I can see nothing from here," he said, "but we may as well be safe;"

and entering the slit in the rock they called the gateway, he drew aside for the last few "greasers," who had been tending the cattle, to mount before him; then Joses, Bart, the Beaver, and his followers came in.

The strong stones kept for the purpose were hauled into place, and the entry thoroughly blocked, after which the various points of defence were manned, the Doctor, with several of the Englishmen, taking the pa.s.sage and the gate, while the Beaver, with Joses, Bart and the Indians, were sent to man the ramparts, as the Doctor laughingly called them; that is to say, the ingeniously contrived gallery that overlooked the stable cavern and the great corral.

"You must not spare your powder if the cattle are in danger," said the Doctor for his last orders. "I don't want to shed blood, but these savages must have another severe lesson if they mean to annoy us. All I ask is to be let alone."

Bart led the way, and soon after was ensconced in his rifle-pit, with Joses on one side and the Beaver on the other, the rest of the party being carefully arranged. Then the Doctor spread the alarm up above, and the men armed and manned the zigzag way, but all out of sight; and at last, just as it was growing dark, the great plain fortress looked as silent as if there was not a man anywhere upon its heights, and yet in their various hiding-places there were scores, each with his deadly rifle ready to send a return bullet for every one fired by an enemy.

"No firing unless absolutely necessary," was the Doctor's whispered order; and then all was silent while they waited to see if any enemy would really come.

They were not long kept in doubt, for just as the heavens had a.s.sumed that peculiar rich grey tint that precedes darkness, and a soft white mist was rising from the depths of the canyon, there was seen, as if arising from out of the plain itself, a dark body moving rapidly, and this soon developed itself into a strong band of Indians, all well-mounted in their half-naked war costume, their heads decked with feathers, and each armed with rifle and spear.

They were in their war-paint, but still they might be disposed to be friendly; and the Doctor was willing to believe it till he saw through his gla.s.s that they wore the skull and cross-bones painted in white upon their broad, brown chests, and he knew that they were of the same tribe as had visited them before, and gone off after so severe a lesson.

Still he hoped that they might be friendly, and he was determined that they should not be fired upon without good reason.

A few minutes later he changed his opinion, for, evidently well-drilled by their chief, the Indians charged towards where the tilted waggons were drawn up in the shade of the rock, riding with as much precision as a well-drilled body of cavalry. Then, at a sign, they drew rein in a couple of ranks, about fifty yards from the waggons, and presenting their rifles, without word of warning, fired a volley.

Another volley followed, and another, the thick smoke rising on the evening air, and then, apparently surprised at there being no replying shot, about twenty galloped up with lowered spears, thrust two or three times through the canvas tilts, and galloped back, the whole band sweeping off the next moment as swiftly and as silently as they came, gradually becoming fainter and more shadowy, and then quite disappearing from the watchers' sight.

"They're gone, then?" whispered Bart, drawing a breath of relief.

"Yes; they're a bit scared by the silence," said Joses; "but they'll come back again."

"When?" said Bart.

"Sneaking about in the dark, to stampede the horses and cattle, as soon as ever they know where they are, my boy."

"Yes--come back," said the Beaver in a low tone, and he whispered then to the interpreter.

"Apache dogs will come back in the night when the moon is up," said the interpreter. "They will steal up to the camp like wolves, and die like dogs and wolves, for they shall not have the horses and oxen."

And just then the Beaver, who seemed to comprehend his follower's English, said softly:

"It is good."

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

IN THE WATCHES OF THE NIGHT.

The hours went by, but no sound or sign came from the plain; the stars started out bright and clear, and in the east there was a faint, lambent light that told of the coming of the moon ere long, but still all seemed silent in the desert.

The Englishmen of the party seemed to grow weary, and began talking so loudly that the Doctor sent sternly-worded messages to them to be silent; and once more all was still, save when some one fidgeted about to change his position.

"Why can't they keep still?" growled Joses, softly, as he lay perfectly motionless, listening to every sound. "They don't understand how a man's life--ah, all our lives--may depend on their being still. Look at them Injuns. They never move."

Joses was quite right. Each Indian had taken his place where appointed, and had not moved since, saving to settle down into a part of the rock.

The swarthy, muscular fellows might have been part of the stone for any sign they gave of life.

At last the moon rose slowly above the edge of the vast plain, sending a flood of light to bring into prominence every bush and tree, striking on the face of the mountain, and casting its shadow right away over the plain. From where Bart crouched he could not see the moon, for he and his companions were behind rocks, but there was the heavy shadow of the mountain stretching to an enormous distance; and as he watched it, and saw how boldly it was cut, and how striking was the difference between the illumined portions of the plain and those where the shadow fell, he could not help thinking how easily the Indians might creep right up to them and make a bold a.s.sault, and this idea he whispered to Joses.

"'Taint much in their way, my lad," he whispered. "Injun don't care about night-fighting, it's too risky for them. They don't mind a sneak up--just a few of them to scare the horses and cattle and make 'em stampede, and they don't mind doing a bit o' spy of the enemy's camp in the dark; but it isn't often they'll fight at night."

"But you expect them to come, don't you?"

"I don't," said Joses; "but the Beaver does, and I give in. He knows best about it, having been so much more among the Injun than I have, and being Injun himself. I daresay they will come, but they won't stampede our horses, I'm thinking, and they won't get the cattle. They may get to know where the ways are into the corral and the horse 'closure, and perhaps find out the path up to the castle, as the master calls it."

"But they couldn't unless they came close up, Joses."

"Well, what's to hinder 'em from coming close up? They'll crawl through the gra.s.s, and from stone to stone in the dark there, and who's to see 'em? My eyes are sharp enough, but I don't know as I should see them coming. Let's ask the Beaver what he says."

"The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth has heard all you said," whispered the interpreter, "and he says that the Apaches will come before long to find the way into the camp, and then they will go away again if they do not die."