Upon one side was a
fringe of heavy timber, upon the other a precipice, at the
base of which were massive rocks.
???There is an Indian behind that rock, for I saw his head,???
muttered the young rider, as his horse flew on. Did he intend
to take his chances, and dash along the trail directly by his
ambushed foe? It would seem so, for he still stuck to the trail.
A moment more and he would be within range of a bullet, when,
suddenly dashing his spurs into the pony's sides, Billy Cody
wheeled to the right, and in an oblique course headed for the
cliff. This proved to the foe in ambush that he was suspected,
if not known, and at once there came the crack of a rifle,
the puff of smoke rising above the rock where he was concealed.
At the same moment a yell went up from a score of throats, and
out of the timber on the other side of the valley darted a
number of Indians, and these rode to head off the rider.
Did he turn back and seek safety in a retreat to the station?
No! he was made of sterner stuff, and would run the gauntlet.
Out from behind the bowlder, where they had been lying in
ambush, sprang two braves in all the glory of their war-paint.
Their horses were in the timber with their comrades, and,
having failed to get a close shot at the pony-rider, they
sought to bring him down at long range with their rifles.
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