“It lacked only an inch of being a murderous shot,” returned Buffalo Bill. “It came from the top of the right-hand wall, and proves that the Apaches know what we are about and are trailing us along the rim of the gulch. They can get at us, and it is impossible for us to get at them. Let’s see what Silver Heels can do in a pinch.” The scout dug in with his irons and Bear Paw flung himself up the gulch, taking at a leap every bush or boulder that got in his way. Dell raced along behind, Silver Heels doing nobly, and displaying more fire and bottom than the scout had supposed him to have under his sleek white hide. The cayuse, like his rider, was something of a revelation to Buffalo Bill. The wisdom of speed in that forward movement along the gulch was quickly apparent. The crack of firearms began all along the top of the right-hand wall. Both walls continued to increase in height and to draw nearer and nearer together. The sun could not penetrate the depths of the gulch, and the bottom lay in heavy shadow. “So long as the Apaches hide themselves,” said Buffalo Bill, “we can do nothing to discourage them in this attack they are making. I am going to try a ruse to draw them down into the gulch, and within reach of our six-shooters. It is a time-honored ruse, but it will work nine times out of ten. At the next shot, Dell, I’m going to tumble out of my saddle. You ride on, as though too frightened to turn back, and catch Bear Paw. Don’t stop until you reach the darkest part of the gulch, then round-to under the lee of a boulder, and watch.” “Trust me,” answered the girl. The shot for which the scout was waiting was not long in coming. It cracked out above and gouged into the flinty earth several feet in advance of Buffalo Bill; nevertheless, he gave a wild cry, dropped his reins, flung up his hands, and wilted from Bear Paw’s back. Apparently his fall was a heavy one; but, really, it was only nicely calculated to appear so. With hardly a jar, the scout had struck the ground and straightened out. It was all so well done that, for an instant, Dell’s heart flew into her throat, and she feared that the last bullet really had reached its mark. She would have drawn rein, in spite of her instructions, had Buffalo Bill not called softly for her to ride on and catch Bear Paw. As Dell flickered on up the gulch, fierce cries of triumph floated down from the right-hand wall. Indians on horseback showed themselves against the sky-line--five of them--and peered downward with hands shielding their eyes. Well in the shadow of the gulch above, Dell captured Bear Paw, dropped his bridle-reins over her saddle-pommel, and tossed her own reins over Silver Heels’ head. With the reins in this position, the white cayuse would stand as though tied to a post. Dropping to the ground, the girl crept back down the gulch for a little way, and watched further developments from behind a boulder.