The old stage road here turns to the right and gradually winds around the mountain to get on the mesa land. It makes quite a circuit before getting to the next water, Pine Springs, but there was an old Indian trail that leads up the canyon and straight through. As Andrews and Wiswall were afoot and taking all the short cuts, they took this trail. It was late in the day when, in a sudden bend of the trail, they came in full view of an entire village of Indians coming towards them. The redskins were only two or three hundred yards off and discovered the white men at once. Under such circumstances the two pedestrians had to think quickly and act at once. They could not hope to escape by running, for most of the Indians were mounted. Fortunately, to the south of the trail there was a sharp sugar loaf peak, and for this Andrews and Wiswall made with all speed. Reaching the summit they hastily threw up breastworks of loose rocks and as soon as the Indians came into sight they opened fire on them. The redskins returned the fire, but soon discovered they were wasting ammunition and ceased firing. The besieged, suspicious of some stratagem, kept a sharp lookout, and soon discovered the Indians were crawling upward to the barricade and pushing boulders before them to shelter their bodies. The boys decided to keep perfectly still, one on each side, and watch for a chance to kill a savage. The watcher on the west side, where the fading light still enabled him to see, saw a mop of black hair rise cautiously over an advancing rock. He fired at once. The head disappeared and the boulder went thundering down the hill with the two white men running over the warrior, who was kicking around like a chicken with its head cut off. As good luck would have it most of the attackers were on the east side, taking it for granted the men would try to escape in that direction. Before the astonished Apaches could understand just what was occurring, the men, running like old black-tailed bucks, were out of hearing, while night spread her dark mantle over them in kindness. Being good woodsmen, the fugitives had no trouble in shaping their course to Crow Flat again.