The gray dawn was in the east when the troopers crouched like mountain lions on the rocky ground that overhung the outlaw camp. Down in the camp there was some kind of stir, though what it meant could not be determined. In the gray light the shapes of the low huts were almost indistinguishable. The sentries that the scout knew were there could not be seen, for not a light flickered, and no camp-fire glow was seen. Nevertheless, he was sure that behind the barricades the outlaws were waiting and watching, and that alert sentinels were making their ceaseless and vigilant rounds. Suddenly a single revolver shot sounded down in the camp, breaking with startling clearness on the still air of the dawn. Following it there was an excited clamor. Buffalo Bill did not know what that shot meant. He realized that it might be a signal that he and the troopers had been discovered. Yet he did not hesitate, but gave instantly the command to charge, hoping to gain some advantage by the excitement and confusion into which the outlaws seemed to have been thrown. The troopers leaped, some sliding and rolling, down the bowldered slope. Then their charging cheer rose, and their carbines flamed and cracked as they gained the lower ground, and rushed upon the huts they now beheld before them. Most of the outlaws were at the moment behind the barricades which defended the two sides of the camp, at the entrances of the pass. Some of them, however, were in or near one of the huts, and, with wild yells, they tried to meet the onset of the charging troopers. At the head of the troopers was seen the tall form of Buffalo Bill, as, with revolver in hand, he led the charge. Desperadoes went down under the fire of the troopers, and troopers fell, shot by desperadoes; and then the troopers were in the midst of the huts, and the battle was on in all its fury. CHAPTER XVI. A WOMAN’S VENGEANCE. The shot which Buffalo Bill and the troopers heard, and which was followed by their advance, was fired by Pizen Jane. Perhaps because she was a woman the cords that bound her wrists and held her to the barricade were not knotted as securely and tightly as those that bound her son. Men were desperate and low indeed when they do not, consciously or unconsciously, retain some consideration for a woman. Pizen Jane had discovered, after a time, that she could work her wrists about in the cords. She had said nothing of her discovery, for outlaws were near her, behind the barricade; and out in front paced a sentry. But she had begun to strain and tug at the cords, finding by and by that they gave a little. This added to her desire to get out of them, and to that task she bent her endeavors. Yet a long time went by before she again felt the cords slip and give under her manipulation.