Never unless sure of its ground and the weakness of the adversary does the modern Indian band attack at night. Folsom and his people well knew that. Yet not five minutes after the Indian girl, faint with exhaustion and dread, was carried within doors, the big mastiff challenged again. The dogs charged furiously out to the northeast and would not be recalled. For nearly half an hour they kept up their angry clamor. Time and again during the night, suspicious and excited, they dashed out again and again, and once one of them, venturing further than his fellows, broke suddenly into loud cries of mingled pain and rage, and when at last he came whining piteously back to the ranch it was found that he was bleeding from a gash along the flank, where an Indian arrow had seared him. Only by fits and starts did any man sleep. Hour after hour Folsom's little garrison was on the alert. The women had all been moved to the deep, dry cellar, Mrs. Hal moaning over her baby, utterly unnerved, Jessie silent, but white and tremulous; the herdsman's wife, an Amazon, demanded the right to have a gun and fight by her husband's side; Lizette, the Indian girl, faint and starved, asked nothing but to be allowed to crouch at the door of the room where Halbert lay, fevered and unconscious, and Pappoose, scorning danger, flitted from her brother's bedside to her father's log-barricade at the east porch. In dread anxiety the hours dragged by, and at last Lannion reached forth his hand and pulled the shirt sleeve of his comrade Jake, half-dozing at his side. In an instant the latter was kneeling at his post. "What is it?" he queried, and Lannion, pointing to the first faint, pallid gleam in the eastern sky, whispered: "Time to be up, man. It's coming." For half an hour, except for the rushing of the Laramie, a silence almost unearthly had brooded over the prairie, and even the dogs seemed lulled to sleep. But now, as the cold light crept slowly over the distant range, and a soft flush began to overspread the pallor of the dawn, far out over the valley the yelp of a coyote began again and all men strained their ears and listened, while strong hands grabbed the growling dogs and pinned them to earth, for, beginning at the east, the cry was taken up on every side. Folsom's ranch seemed beleaguered by the gaunt, half-famished wolves of the upland prairies. "Look to your sights, now, men! Down into the cellar, Pappoose!" exclaimed Folsom, kindling with fierce excitement. "I've been the friend of all that tribe for thirty years, but when they break faith with me and mine that ends it! Look to your sights and make every shot count!" he cautioned, as he made the rounds of the little shelters thrown up during the past two days. "We can stand off a hundred of 'em if you only keep your grit."