But before either of them could pull trigger a war bow twanged resonantly and the swift flash of an arrow swept across Niltci’s face. He saw Vasquez tottering, faltering, and crumpling slackly; heard the rifle and the revolver bellow out together--and then a tall Apache chief stood before him, breathing laboredly, his eyes flashing the wild fire of war. Niltci held his ground and his rifle half raised. Peace or war with this chief, the Navaho boy faced him undaunted and Niltci was going to defend that place to the last! Below him was the little rocky lair where lay Big John, silent, face downward. The Apache raised his hand in the peace sign. “Navaho, thou art a brave man! He that risks his life for a friend!” he dropped his arm significantly as if to say that no higher test of character existed. “Come; my young men pursue them, and none shall escape. Let us take this white man where his wounds can be cared for, my brother.” Just at that instant Sid came around the rocks about the lava lair. For a moment he stood looking, first at Big John lying silent as death, then at Niltci sitting dazedly and weak on the ground. His eyes glanced only once at the huddled figure of Vasquez. “Oh! oh!--Big John! Is he dead!” he cried, the sudden catch of a sob in his voice. He went over quickly to Big John and felt under his shirt. Then he looked up, worried, anxious, but hope shone in his eyes. “He’s alive, Chief! But we must act quickly, for he’s losing blood fast. Help me, Honanta,” cried Sid urgently. Together they got at the wound. That Mauser had plunged downward, smashing through the shoulder at a slant; tipped a lung, as the red froth on Big John’s lips showed, and had come out in a jagged tear below the big muscle on his chest. He breathed laboredly and his eyes were still closed. Sid shook his head and there were tears in his own eyes. To lose Big John, that faithful, devoted old friend who had raised him and Scotty from cubdom, had been with them on a dozen expeditions, a thousand hunts--it was unbelievable! “I’ve seen worse. My medicine men can cure him!” said Honanta cheerily. “We shall bring him to our village, and all will be well. My son, your friends are _our_ friends! They have done well!” “Thank you, Honanta,” said Sid, simply. “I have yet one more thing to ask you to do, and then this whole business will come out all right.” “And that is?” asked the chief, smiling. “To come with me and meet my father,” said Sid earnestly. “_Ai!_--I shall go with you soon! But first, where is my son, Hano? Not yet have I heard his war cry,” replied Honanta anxiously.