The Ambush at Llhan Huang It was late afternoon before the Spindrift caravan left the rocks of the mountain pass and reached better ground. They paused on top of a small, pyramid-shaped hill while one of the bearers retied the pack on his mule. Zircon looked at the formation with interest. "An old volcanic cone," he pointed out. "Notice the regularity of the slope? And we're in a kind of saucer that once was a live crater." Rick could see it clearly once the scientist mentioned its volcanic origin. The saucer was perhaps a dozen yards across, and its edge was marked by a definite rim. Whoever first made the trail apparently had decided to go right up and across the hill instead of pushing through the dense underbrush at its base. In a moment they started again, the mules picking their way carefully down the hillside. At the bottom of the hill was a rather dense forest, and beyond it the valley. Sing called back over his shoulder. "Llhan Huang is just past the woods. We'll meet Ko there, I think. I just saw the last of his mules going into the woods." Rick stood up in his stirrups and rubbed his raw and aching thighs. The three had ridden horseback before, but not to any great extent, and the long trail was a hard initiation. He noted that the sun was dropping behind the western peaks, and he knew from experience that it would be dark in a few minutes. The great western range was so high in the air that it brought night by blocking out the sunlight surprisingly early in the afternoon. Then he rode into the forest and gloom closed in around him. It was cold. He zipped up his windbreaker and reached for his gloves. He saw that the trail through the forest twisted and turned to miss the big hardwood trees, so that sometimes he could see only the mule in front of him. Zircon and Scotty, at the rear of the column, were out of sight most of the time. It grew darker rapidly. Rick reached into his saddlebag and drew out a flashlight, tucking it into his jacket pocket where it would be handy. When he could see the sky overhead, it was dark gray and he knew night was close at hand. Presently he found himself peering through the gloom even to see the mule directly in front. When they got out of the woods it would be lighter, he hoped. Then, as he stood up again to ease his saddle burns, the woods around them were suddenly alive with gunfire! His pony reared and would have bolted if he had not gripped the reins tight and jerked him to a stop. He caught a glimpse of orange flashes in the gloom, and from ahead he heard a sudden scream from one of the mules. Scotty's voice rose in a yell. "Turn around! Turn! Get back out of the woods to the hilltop!" Rick saw his friend's strategy at once. On the hilltop, they could fight off almost a battalion. He pulled his quivering pony around on the narrow trail and yelled at Sing. The guide's voice came in answer. "Coming! We're coming!"