There was eloquence in the ruins of the thick and solid walls which even now stood as high as ten or twelve feet in places, and which were still spanned by a few charred and blackened beams, like the gaping ribs of a wrecked ship. The floor was covered with coarse herbage, sprouting through a layer of _debris_, whence arose that damp, earthy smell which seems inseparable from ancient buildings of whatever kind. Standing within this relic of a terrible epoch, Yseulte could not repress a shudder. What mutilated human remains might they not actually be walking over? Even in the cheerful daylight the flap of ghostly wings seemed to waft past her. "If these old walls could speak they'd tell a few queer yarns," said her companion. "Look at these loop-holes. Many a leaden pill have they sent forth to carry `Mr Lo' to the Happy Hunting-Grounds. I don't know the exact history of this station, but it's probably that of most others of the time. A surprise--a stiff fight--along siege in the `dug-out' when the reds had set the building on fire--then either relief from outside, or the defenders, reduced by famine or failure of ammunition, shooting each other to avoid capture and the stake." "Horrible!" she answered, with a shiver. "But what is a `dug-out'?" "Let's get outside, and I'll tell you all about it. Look--you see that mound of earth over there," pointing to a round hump about a score of yards from the building, and rising three or four feet above the ground. "Well, that is a roof made of earth and stones, and therefore bullet and fire proof. It is loop-holed on a level with the ground, though it's so overgrown with buffalo-grass that the holes'll be choked up, I reckon. This roof covers a circular hole about ten or twelve feet in diameter, and just high enough for a man to stand up in. It is reached by a covered way from the main building, and its object was this:--When the reds were numerous and daring enough they had not much difficulty in setting the building on fire by throwing torches and blazing arrows on the roof, just as they threw them into our camp the other day. Then the stage people got into the `dug-out,' and with plenty of rations and ammunition could hold their own indefinitely against all comers. The `dug-out' was pretty nearly an essential adjunct to every stage-station, and a good many ranches had them as well. And now, if you feel so disposed, we will try and explore this one, and then it will be time to start camp-wards." She assented eagerly. First going to the mound, the removal of the overgrowth of grass revealed the loop-holes. "It is like looking into the _oubliettes_ of a mediaeval castle," said Yseulte, striving to peer through the apertures into the blackness beneath. "Now come this way," said her companion, leading the way into the building once more.