Cheyenne transporter. [volume] (Darlington, Indian Terr.) 1879-1886, 1882-02-10

hideous yelling, and began to spread
out in line to surround his perch on
the bluff.
The canon was his only chance of es-
cape, and he turned with desperate
earnestness in that direction-spurred
by the yells of the Indians which rang
in his ears. as he ran along the edge of
the precipice, eagerly scanning the
rocks for some assure by which he
might climb down.
Already he was nearly enclosed by
semicircle Of the savages. In his rear
several of them were working their
way up the bluff, dodging from rock to
rock, to get shot at him without ex-
posing their own bodies; and he well
knew that others would be ready to
head them off before they could get
much farther.
a moment later two rifle shots
cracked from among the bOulders off
to his right; and he heard the whiz of
the balls. But there seemed to be
neither break nor crevice in the solid
ledges forming the wall Of the canon
along the verge of which he was run
ming.
A second or two after, However, he
came where the brink of the cliff
shelved off somewhat, and down over
the sloping rock he caught sight of the
topmost boughs of pine tree reaching
slightly above the rocky wall of the
canon. 1t flashed across his mind that
there must be foothold at the root of
this tree, path perhaps by which he
might escape.
Creeping to the extreme verge of the
bluff, he peered over; there was little
to encourage him. About forty feet
below some large rocks jutted out
slightly from the face of the cliff. A
crack between two of these had be-
come filed with earth; and in this the
pine had its roots.
1t was desperate venture; but
Bently determined to swing off into
the tree, and trust to finding a place
Of concealment. He would assuredly
be killed if he remained many mo-
ments longer in his present position, for
the yells of his approaching enemies
were drawing nearer. 1t could be no
worse to be killed at the foot of the
tree than at the top, he thought. With
his carbine buttoned within his blouse
(his pack of venison he had already
thrown away) he lay hold of the pine
boughs and scrambled down its trunk
as fast as he could.
But when about two thirds of the
way down the pine, he noticed an ir-
regular hole in the face of the preci-
pice, almost within reach of the trunk.
An inspiration came to him. Here
was his chance for cOncealment. Sup
porting himself by limb, he contrived
to back himself into the hole, which
he found to extend twelve or fifteen
feet backwards into the rocky wall of
the canon.
Once inside, his spirits rose The
Indians surely would never seek him
here; and even if they did, no one of
them would be hardy enough to
poke his head into the hole, only to re-
ceive bullet.
The only apprehension which now
troubled him was the prospect of a
seige. and as he had still little coffee
in his canteen, and three "hard tacks"
left in his sack, he felt that his chances
were good for at least couple of
days.
So with renewed hope he lay quiet
and listened The Indians, evidently,
were approaching the place of his dis
appearance very cautiously; their yel
ling had ceased. 1t was nearly an
hour before he heard anything farther
of them.
At length he became aware that gut