The dusk was beginning to gather in the low valley and the weird evensong of the coyotes was at its height when suddenly from the north there came a rumble, as if a storm gathered above the mountain; then with a roar and the thunder of distant hoofs, the crashing of brush and the nearer click of feet against the rocks a torrent of wild horses poured over the summit of the pass and swept down into the upper valley like an avalanche. Instantly Creede and his cowboys scattered, spurring out on either wing to turn them fair for the box canyon, and the tame horses, left suddenly to their own devices, stood huddled together in the middle of the _redondo_, fascinated by the swift approach of the outlaws. Down the middle of the broad valley they came, flying like the wind before their pursuers; at sight of Creede and his cowboys and the familiar hold-up herd they swerved and slackened their pace; then as the half-circle of yelling cowmen closed in from behind they turned and rushed straight for the box canyon, their flint-like feet striking like whetted knives as they poured into the rocky pass. Catching the contagion of the flight the tame horses joined in of their own accord, and a howl of exultation went up from the Four Peaks cowmen as they rushed in to complete the overthrow. In one mad whirl they mingled--wild horses and tame, and wilder riders behind; and before that irresistible onslaught Juan Alvarez and his herders could only leap up and cling to the rocky cliffs like bats. And the sheep! A minute after, there were no sheep. Those that were not down were gone--scattered to the winds, lost, annihilated! Seized by the mad contagion, the cowboys themselves joined in the awful rout, spurring through the dark canyon like devils let loose from hell. There was only one who kept his head and waited, and that was Jefferson Creede. Just as the last wild rider flashed around the corner he jumped his horse into the canyon and, looking around, caught sight of Juan Alvarez, half-distraught, crouching like a monkey upon a narrow ledge. "Well, what--the--hell!" he cried, with well-feigned amazement. "_I_ didn't know you was here!" The sheepman swallowed and blinked his eyes, that stood out big and round like an owl's. "Oh, that's all right," he said. "But it wouldn't 'a' made a dam' bit of difference if I had!" added Creede, and then, flashing his teeth in a hectoring laugh, he put spurs to his horse and went thundering after his fellows. Not till that moment did the evil-eyed Juan Alvarez sense the trick that had been played upon him. "_Cabrone!_" he screamed, and whipping out his pistol he emptied it after Creede, but the bullets spattered harmlessly against the rocks.