"They won't come again, not that way, as I told you before," said Boyd, when young Clarke put down his glasses after the tenth searching look. "When they made the rush they expected to have a warrior or two hit, but they didn't know the greatest marksman in all the world, the Little Giant, was here waiting for 'em, and if I do say it myself, I'm as good with the rifle as anybody in the west, except Tom, and you're 'way above the average too, Will. No, they've had enough of charging, but I wish to heaven I knew what wicked trick they're thinking out now." The Little Giant returned, bathed, refreshed and joyous. "Your turn now, Jim," he said, "an' you soak your head an' face good in the water. Don't dodge it because you think thar ain't plenty o' water, 'cause thar is. It keeps on a-runnin' an' a-runnin', an' it never runs out. Stay ez long ez you want to, 'cause young William an' me kin hold the pass ag'inst all the confederated tribes o' the Sioux nation, an' the Crows an' the Cheyennes an' the Blackfeet throwed in." Boyd departed and presently he too returned, strengthened anew for any task. "Now, Will," he said, "you being the youngest, and it's only because you're the youngest, you'd better go back there where the horses and mules are. They've got over their fright and are taking their rest again. They appear to like you, to look upon you as a kind of comrade, and I think it's about time you took a bit of rest with them." "But don't hev a nightmare an' kick one o' my mules," said the Little Giant, "'cause the best tempered mule in the world is likely to kick back ag'in." Will smiled. He knew their raillery was meant to cheer him up, because of his inexperience, and their desperate situation. He recognized, too, that it would be better for him to sleep if he could, as they were more than sufficient to guard the pass. "All right," he said. "I obey orders." "Good night to you," said the hunter. "Good night," said the Little Giant, "an' remember not to kick one o' my mules in your sleep." "I won't," replied Will, cheerfully, as he went around the curve of the wall. He found the horses and mules at rest, and everything very quiet and peaceful in the alcove. The rill murmured a little in its stony bed, and, far overhead, he heard the wind sighing among the trees on the mountain. He chose a place close to the wall, spread two blankets there, on which he expected to lie, and prepared to cover himself with two more. He realized now that he was tired to the bone, but it was not a nervous weariness and sleep would cure it almost at once.