Sile slept and slept, and when at last he opened his eyes, he could not have told why he did so. The stars were shining. The night air was crisp and chilly, but he was warm under his blanket. It took him almost a minute to gather his thoughts and understand where he really was. That was partly because he had been sleeping heavily, and partly because, at the very last, he had dreamed of being at home, and of leading a remarkable horse into the sitting-room to show it to his mother. It was a strange place to wake up in, and he could dimly see the forms of other men, rolled in blankets, lying near, each with a rifle lying by him ready for prompt use. "They won't be taken by surprise," said Sile to himself. "I'm going down for a look at the barrier. I've lain still long enough." He felt a little stiff when he first rose to his feet, but it passed away when he stretched himself and began to walk. His left arm pained him more than he had expected, and he found it slightly swollen. It was not precisely like the same scratch made in any other way, and he was glad that there was no more of it. Still, he hardly knew what he had that he valued more highly than that light hurt upon his arm. It had made a sort of soldier of him. It was a promotion, and he vaguely hoped that it would leave a scar. Then he half wished that the scar might come out upon his face, where it would not be forever covered up by his coat-sleeve. "My new horse is in the corral, and I couldn't pick him out now. My lance and things are in the wagon. I'll go and have a look at the barrier. I'm feeling tip-top." CHAPTER XXVII FROM BOW TO RIFLE Leaning over the upper log of the barrier, rifle in hand, and peering out upon the starlit slope beyond him, stood the form of Jonas, the miner. Not a sound came to him from the mists and shadows of the valley, and he was just remarking, aloud, "It's as quiet as a cornfield," when a voice at his elbow explained, "Hist! Ha-ha-pah-no--sh-sh!" and Na-tee-kah dropped upon the ground, and pressed her little round ear against it. So, almost instantly, did Ha-ha-pah-no, and he heard Sile saying, "Their ears are better than yours or mine if they can hear anything." "Didn't know there was one of ye nigh me," said Jonas. "That's the way for a feller to lose his hair--looking too hard in one direction while somebody comes up behind him. No, Sile, I haven't heerd a thing." Na-tee-kah sprang to her feet. "Horse come. Ugh!" and she held up her hand for silence, while Ha-ha-pah-no also arose, listening intently. "Indian ears for it," said Jonas. "'Pears to me I can hear something now myself." "I can't, then," said another voice. It was that of a sleepy miner, who had waked up to follow Sile, just as he had been awakened by even the noiseless movements of the squaws. "Hark!" exclaimed Jonas. It was the sound of galloping, and then a shrill whoop. "Two Arrows!" screamed Na-tee-kah. "'Pache get him!"