IN THE OLD WEST ^03 



mountain-sides, the dry grass burning like tinder. 

 Huge volumes of stifling smoke rolled before it> 

 and in a very few minutes the trappers were 

 hastily mounting their animals, driving the packed 

 ones before them. The dense clouds of smoke con- 

 cealed everything from their view, and, to avoid 

 this, they broke from the creek and galloped up 

 the sides of the canon on to the more level plateau. 

 As they attained this, a band of mounted Indians 

 charged them. One, waving a red blanket, dashed 

 through the cavallada, and was instantly followed 

 by all the loose animals of the trappers, the rest of 

 the Indians pursuing with loud shouts. So sud- 

 den was the charge, that the whites had not power 

 to prevent the stampede. Old Bill, as usual, led 

 his pack-mules by the lariat ; but the animals, mad 

 with terror at the shouts of the Indians, broke 

 from him, nearly pulling him out of his seat at 

 the same time. To cover the retreat of the others 

 with theii* prey, a band of mounted Indians now 

 appeared, threatening an attack in front, whilst 

 their first assailants, rushing from the bottom, at 

 least a hundred strong, assaulted in rear. " Do 

 'ee hyar, boys ? " shouted old Bill, " break, or 

 you'll go under. This child's goin' to cache ! " 

 and saying the word, off he went. Sauve qui peut 

 was the order of the day, and not a moment too 

 soon, for overwhelming numbers were charging 

 upon them, and the mountain resounded with sav- 

 age yell&. La Bonte and Killbuek stuck together: 



