"Stay in there if you want to!" he shouted back defiantly, and started on a run for the brush. It was a scant hundred feet to the edge of the river-bottom, and as they watched him through the port-holes they saw him gliding from tree to tree, vengefully stalking the slayer of his mule. But it was far to the hilltop and before he had more than started there was a shot from out on the plain. It was answered by another and then by a fusillade, and once more the sheep broke and ran. Who was shooting, and from where, it was impossible to say; but all the herders were gone and the Mexicans along the stream-bed were firing off their guns at random. The only thing that moved besides the rush of frightened sheep was Grimes, running savagely up the wash. From the shelter of their fort the Bassetts looked after him, and Sharps grunted scornfully to himself. But no shower of bullets followed the sheepman in his flight, he kept on and rejoined his frightened men; and when their frantic shooting had been stilled by his boot, the old silence fell again. Only the _skuff-skuff_ of myriad feet as the sheep made a rush, then listened and rushed off again, broke the stillness which hung over the plain; but when a hiding herder sprang up to turn them back he went down before a single, distant shot. Then the Mexican fusillade reopened and when it had been silenced the sheep were left to their fate. From the hills far away plunging shots fell among them, to add to their senseless panic; and each bullet seemed to explode, throwing up dirt and tufts of grass, making the disaster more complete. The bulk of the herd fled back up the broad canyon and took shelter in the brush along the creek, but there once more the explosive bullets fell among them and drove them into the hills. As dusk came on they were scattered in small bunches, hiding close and then rushing in full flight; and at dawn they still hid there, for Grimes' Mexicans had deserted him, thinking of nothing but to save their own lives. Three more of their number had gone down before the gun of that marksman who never missed a shot; and in the night they fled north, leaving Grimes to gather his sheep, or leave them to the wolves if he chose. CHAPTER XI ALLIFAIR