I stood by the passageway until the others arrived, and when I had told them, too, what to do, my uncle said to me as we went crouching in across the barricade, "The war party is undoubtedly the Crow outfit that you met the other day." We joined the others, and Abbott said to him, "We've had a pretty close call, Wesley." "Just where are the rascals? Let me see them!" my uncle demanded. He laughed grimly when we had pointed out to him the tall brush here and there concealing them. "I'll bet that they are some tired, lying there in the hot sun and straining themselves to keep the brush upright and motionless!" After a moment of thought he added, "Tsistsaki, bring me a couple of firers for this loud-mouth gun." "I have them already," she answered and handed him a fuse. He stuck it into the touch-hole of the cannon and poured some fine powder from his horn in round it. "I will attend to this," he said to us then. "Now, you, Henri Robarre! You being about as poor a shot as ever cordelled up this river, you fire at the foot of one of those bunches of tall sage, just to start this surprise party. You others then do the best you can." He waited until Tsistsaki had interpreted his words to Pitamakan and then told Henri to fire. Henri did so. None of us saw where the ball struck, and I doubt whether he himself knew where he aimed. The loud boom of the gun echoed across the valley and died away; the smoke from it lifted, but none of the enemy made a move; not one of their shelters even quivered. "Just what I expected! Abbott, let us see what you can do," said my uncle. Abbott stood up, head and shoulders above the barricade, took quick aim and fired at a bunch of the brush; down it fell as the man behind it let go his hold upon it and with loud yells of warning or command to his companions ran straight away from us. At that all the others sprang from their places of concealment like so many jumping-jacks, and those with guns fired at us before they turned to run. When we fired at them three went down at once, and two more staggered on a little way before they fell. At that our engagés took heart and yelled defiance at the enemy as they hastily began reloading their guns. I heard Abbott calling himself names for having failed to kill the man behind the brush that he had fired into. The enemy, twenty or more of them, were drawing together as they went leaping through the sagebrush, straight up the valley; and presently they halted and faced about and with yells of hatred and defiance fired several more desultory shots at us. That was the opportunity for which my uncle was waiting. He hastily sighted the cannon at them and lighted the fuse. The old gun went off with a tremendous roar, and with wild shrieks of fear the enemy ran on faster than ever, if that were possible--all but two whom the grapeshot had struck. "Help, here! Powder and a solid shot!" my uncle yelled.