S20 The Book of Woodcraft 



our men rushed to the attack like furies, each seeming to 

 be anxious to engage the enemy at close quarters. Six or 

 seven of the army were killed in a space not twenty-five 

 feet square, and the rest driven back within the cave, more 

 or less wounded. 



One of the charging party, seeing that so much atten- 

 tion was converged upon our right, had slipped down un- 

 noticed from the rampart, and made his way to the space 

 between our two lines, and had sprung to the top of a huge 

 boulder, and there had begun his war-whoop, as a token of 

 encouragement to those still behind. I imagine that he 

 was not aware of our second line, and thought that once in 

 our rear, ensconced in a convenient nook in the rocks, he 

 could keep us busy by picking us ofE at his leisure. His 

 chant was never fiendish; it was at once his song of glory 

 and his death song; he had broken through our line of fire, 

 only to meet a far more cruel death. Twenty carbines 

 were gleaming in the sunlight just flushing the cljffs; forty 

 eyes were sighting along the barrels. The Apache looked 

 into the eyes of his enemies, and in not one did he see the 

 slightest sign of mercy; he tried to say something; what it 

 was we never could tell. "No! no! soldadoes!" in broken 

 Spanish, was all we could make out, before the resounding 

 volley had released another soul from its earthly casket 

 and let the bleeding corpse fall to the ground, as limp as a 

 wet moccasin. He was really a handsome warrior; tall, 

 well-proportioned, finely muscled, and with a bold, manly 

 countenance. "Shot to death," was the verdict of all 

 who paused to look upon him, but that didn't half express 

 the state of the case. I have never seen a man more thor- 

 oughly shot to pieces than was this one; every bullet seemed 



