Fortunately, the troops did not have to take the back track. The path by which the Border King was to lead them to their destination branched off this main trail into the hills. Over the rough way they rode, and soon the eastern sky began to grow gray. Dawn was approaching, and the increased light made the path vastly easier of traveling. Buffalo Bill and Captain Taylor rode some distance ahead of the troops. The cavalry could go only as fast as the guns and ambulances could keep up, so the band moved necessarily slow. They came at last almost within sight of Fort Advance. A low ridge shut out their view of the valley. Suddenly the cool morning breeze brought to them a great shouting and hullabaloo, intermingled with rifle-shots and the intermittent discharge of heavy guns. “An attack!” exclaimed the captain and the scout together, and they spurred their horses to the top of the ridge. It was true. Oak Heart had chosen the hour before dawn as the time to throw his remaining warriors against the stockade. He believed that about this time the rescue-party would be falling into the trap he had laid for it in the cañon. He would keep both bands of white men so busy that they could not go to each other’s rescue. Suddenly the heavy guns ceased. There was only the occasional snapping of rifles from the fort. “My God, Cody! What does that mean?” gasped Captain Taylor. “Their ammunition has run out!” cried the scout. “I adjure you, captain, bring up your men at a double-quick. The next few minutes may settle the question as to whether those red devils get the scalps of every man, woman, and child in the fort! There is not an instant to lose, sir!” CHAPTER XII. A FLYING FIGHT. Captain Taylor saw the desperate need of help for the unfortunate inmates of Fort Advance quite as clearly as did Buffalo Bill, but his men were in heavy marching order, and there were the artillery and ambulances to be thought of, too. The column was strung out along the trail for two miles. “It will take some time to bring the men up and form in line of battle, Cody,” declared Captain Taylor. “And meanwhile Oak Heart will throw his entire force over those palisades!” cried the scout. “By the time we deploy into the valley there’ll be no garrison, and the red devils can turn their attention to us. The firing will call up the gang from the cañon, and we’ll be between two fires.” “It can’t be helped----” “It _can_ be helped, sir--begging your pardon! Give me a few of your men and let me push on. It will make a diversion in favor of the garrison. If the braves see us coming they’ll hesitate about throwing themselves into the fort and so being caught in a trap.” “Good, Cody! You are right. And your appearance will at least show that help is at hand and encourage the garrison. But I’m afraid you’ll be cut to pieces.”