“I reckon we’ll stay here,” said Billy, looking ruefully at Eddie’s horse.

Eddie rose and as he did so he staggered and grew very white.  Billy dismounted and ran forward, putting an arm about him.  Another shot came from above and Billy Byrne’s pony grunted and collapsed.

“Hell!” exclaimed Byrne.  “We gotta get out of this,” and lifting his wounded comrade in his arms he ran for the shelter of the bluff from the summit of which the snipers had fired upon them.  Close in, hugging the face of the perpendicular wall of tumbled rock and earth, they were out of range of the Indians; but Billy did not stop when he had reached temporary safety.  Farther up toward the direction in which lay the village, and halfway up the side of the bluff Billy saw what he took to be excellent shelter.  Here the face of the bluff was less steep and upon it lay a number of large bowlders, while others protruded from the ground about them.

Toward these Billy made his way.  The wounded man across his shoulder was suffering indescribable agonies; but he bit his lip and stifled the cries that each step his comrade took seemed to wrench from him, lest he attract the enemy to their position.

Above them all was silence, yet Billy knew that alert, red foemen were creeping to the edge of the bluff in search of their prey.  If he could but reach the shelter of the bowlders before the Pimans discovered them!

The minutes that were consumed in covering the hundred yards seemed as many hours to Billy Byrne; but at last he dragged the fainting cowboy between two large bowlders close under the edge of the bluff and found himself in a little, natural fortress, well adapted to defense.

From above they were protected from the fire of the Indians upon the bluff by the height of the bowlder at the foot of which they lay, while another just in front hid them from possible marksmen across the canyon.  Smaller rocks scattered about gave promise of shelter from flank fire, and as soon as he had deposited Eddie in the comparative safety of their retreat Byrne commenced forming a low breastwork upon the side facing the village—­the direction from which they might naturally expect attack.  This done he turned his attention to the opening upon the opposite side and soon had a similar defense constructed there, then he turned his attention to Eddie, though keeping a watchful eye upon both approaches to their stronghold.

The Kansan lay upon his side, moaning.  Blood stained his lips and nostrils, and when Billy Byrne opened his shirt and found a gaping wound in his right breast he knew how serious was his companion’s injury.  As he felt Billy working over him the boy opened his eyes.

“Do you think I’m done for?” he asked in a tortured whisper.

“Nothin’ doin’,” lied Billy cheerfully.  “Just a scratch.  You’ll be all right in a day or two.”