And in the slant of that same glaring sunshine, not four miles away,
toiling upward along a rocky slope, following the faint sign here and
there of Apache moccasin, a little command of hardy, war-worn men had
nearly reached the crest when their leader signaled backward to the
long column of files, and, obedient to the excited gestures of the
young Hualpai guide, climbed to his side and gazed intently over.
What he saw on a lofty point of rocks, well away from the tortuous
"breaks" through which they had made most of their wearying marches
from the upper Beaver, brought the light of hope, the fire of battle,
to his somber eyes. "Send Arnold up here," he shouted to the men
below, and Arnold came, clambering past rock and bowlder until he
reached the captain's side, took one look in the direction indicated,
and brought his brown hand down with resounding swat on the butt of
his rifle. "Treed 'em!" said he exultantly; then, with doubtful,
backward glance along the crouching file of weary men, some sitting
now and fanning with their broad-brimmed hats, he turned again to the
captain and anxiously inquired: "Can we make it before dark?"
"We must make it!" simply answered Stout.
And then, far over among the heights between them and the reservation,
there went suddenly aloft--one, two, three--compact little puffs of
bluish smoke.
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