Meantime the Indians had been keeping up a straggling fire in the direction of the stage coach, and Bert and the guard set themselves to the task of silencing it.  Lying flat on the ground, and aiming their guns cautiously around each end of the coach, they fired with sure aim every time a dusky arm or leg was exposed by their attackers.  They were both crack shots, and their bullets seldom failed to reach their mark.  Gradually the fire from the enemy died down, and at last stopped almost altogether.  The precision of the white men astonished them, and they drew behind cover and held a conference.

“Now’s the time!” exclaimed Buck.  “Into the coach, boys, and rustle out the baggage.  Lively’s the word!”

All the little party, with the exception of the passengers, who seemed too paralyzed with fright to move, dashed into the coach, and before the Indians realized what was happening returned, each staggering under some bulky article, trunk, or mail bag.

The savages sprang into life, and a hail of bullets struck against the coach.  But they were too late, and the defenders set to work to construct a circular rampart, using the coach as part of it.  After arranging the baggage to their satisfaction they dug up earth and covered the improvised ramparts with it.

“So far, so good,” said Buck, when at last they stopped to draw breath.  “That will hold the red devils off for a time, anyway.  But unless we get help in some way I’m afraid we’re done for, anyway.  There’s a big party o’ bucks there, and chances are that more will join them before mornin’.  Then they’ll come at us in earnest, and it will only be a question o’ how long we can stand them off.  After that——­” he ended with a silence more eloquent than words.

“Isn’t there—­isn’t there some way to summon aid?” asked one of the passengers, with blanched cheeks.

“I don’t see how,” replied Buck; “it would be jest plain suicide fer one of us to make a break now.  Besides, it’s twenty miles to the nearest town, and the Injuns’ll be on us long before anybody could get to town and bring back help, even supposin’ the Injuns didn’t pot him before he got fairly started.  O’ course, we couldn’t do anythin’ before dark, nohow.”

“Don’t you think they’ll attack before that?” asked Dick.

“No, I don’t,” replied the driver; “they’ll want to surround us first, an’ they won’t start to do that until after dark, ‘cordin’ to my way o’ thinkin’.  What do you say, Sam?”

“Them’s my sentiments exactly,” answered that individual.  “There ain’t a chance in the world o’ their doin’ anythin’ before that.”

As the opinions of these two veterans coincided the matter was regarded as settled, and the boys commenced overhauling their pistols to make sure they were in perfect shape.

There was no further movement on the part of their besiegers, but Buck and Sam knew full well that the Indians were far from giving up their attack.  To them the respite was more ominous than an active sally, for they knew that the braves were hatching some scheme for their destruction.