No more uncomfortable sensation can be imagined than that of one who continually invites the skill of a sharp-shooter, and the Texan met the difficulty not by shrinking, like a turtle, within his protection, but by climbing stealthily out upon the planking, where he remained extended at full length. This rendered him less liable to be seen, but if his assailants should take a notion to sweep the deck, as may be said, with rifle bullets, he was far more likely to receive some of them in his person than he would be by retaining his former place. But a greater or less degree of danger must attend any effort to frustrate the designs of the red men, who were inspired by a hatred intensified by the loss of two of their number. With his face almost pressing the planking the Texan drew himself, inch by inch, along the roof, until he was some six feet distant. Then he paused and listened, slightly raising his head and peering around in the gloom. Once he heard the hoofs of a galloping horse, which, however, quickly ceased. Then several whistle-like signals passed between the marauders, and he was able to catch the murmur of voices within the cabin. The wife and servant were talking together, and, though their words were low, the open doors allowed the slight noise to reach the ears of the Texan, without telling him what words were spoken. Holding his position several minutes, he turned a little to the left and crept along, until able to look over the low peak of the roof. He did this by raising his head the few inches necessary to bring his eyes just above the level. Everything, so far as he could judge, was the same as before. The smouldering in the cavity had died out, though the smoke was as pungent as ever. "Dinah could not have done her work more effectively, and a reasonable person ought to be satisfied----" His keen sense of hearing apprised him of a noise, slight but significant, near him. His first thought was that it was in front, but the next moment he knew it came from the rear. Turning his head in that direction, without moving his body, he caught the outlines of a Comanche's head at the lower corner of the roof behind him. It slowly rose until the shoulders appeared, and no doubt remained that the Indian was cautiously climbing upon the roof, to renew the attempt to set fire to it. CHAPTER XIII. A DEAD RACE. Avon Burnet was thunderstruck. When he supposed he was several miles from the cabin of his uncle, he found himself directly in front of it, and the Indian horse, upon which he relied to take him to the camp of the cattlemen, had brought him to what might be called the mouth of the lion's den. Not only had the precious minutes been thrown away, but his peril was of the most desperate nature.