Before the falling Apache smashed down upon the cliff foot the man whohad last climbed the long ladder made an upward rush. He was within halfa dozen rungs of the top when a large round object rolled out of thedoorway. With the quickness of a puma he swung off to one side.
The big missile grazed past the dodger. Three or four yards farther downit crashed upon the ladder. All the mid section of the wobbly structurewas shattered to flinders. The lower part slithered sideways along thecliff face, the upper part and the two climbers plunged downward.
The cliffs rang with the yells of the ladder holders as they leapedaway. They bounded like startled deer. But one was struck in the back bythe splintered end of a falling ladder pole. He pitched on his face,rolled over, and lay as still as the fallen climbers.
"Four!" exultantly exclaimed Slade. "Four--done up by a keg of water.And the three first"--Lennon had thought them sacks of corn at the footof the ladder--"seven, and Pete with us--leaves less 'n twenty of 'em,counting Cochise. And mebbe Carmena has potted one or two more out inthe scrub."
"You'll attack?" asked Lennon.
"Sure. No chance of holding Cochise after him losing them men. Theothers would turn on him like mad coyotes if he backed up. Just holdyour hosses a bit, though, till I tell you."
Lennon impatiently glanced away from his rifle sights. For the firsttime he saw that the Navahos were no longer alongside him. Pete wascreeping aslant the dam toward the cliffs. The three others had circledto the left and were disappearing into the irrigation canal where itcurved down valley below the reservoir.
"Got to flush them snakes in the grass," explained Slade. "Pick yourmark and wait. I'll start off with this here devil across the tank."
The scattered ladder raisers were bunching again close under the cliff,to one side of the cliff house openings. One of them made signs to theoutlying riflemen. The others began to work on the broken ladders. Thefiring had almost ceased.
Slade moved a few yards along the dam. Lennon drew back his rifle,looked carefully at the lock and magazine, and took up a position fromwhich he could fire with the greatest rapidity. He had been ready onlya few minutes when from the irrigation canal, down the valley behind theApache riflemen, came the reports of three shots, fired in rapidsuccession.
A fourth shot roared from Slade's rifle. Lennon began to fire as fast ashe could take aim. His mark was the group of Apaches on the cliff foot.One fell and lay motionless. Another tumbled over, but rebounded to joinin the dash of his companions down the slope.
The bare ledges of the cliff foot offered no shelter. The nearest coverwas the ruined Farley ranch hut, a hundred yards or more away, in thedirection of the reservoir. But as the Apaches raced for the refugefirst one of their leaders and then another pitched to the ground.
The others swerved and went flying out toward the irrigation canal. Aburst of shots from the canal again forced them to swerve. They fledtoward a patch of rocks and cactus in the direction of Devil's Chute.Only four reached the cover.
As Lennon had emptied his magazine during the first few seconds, he knewthat he could not have shot more than one of the fugitives. The threeNavahos had spread out along the canal, and Pete had hidden at theruined hut. They had the Apaches under fire from flank and rear. Sladehad dodged down to run around the head of the reservoir and leap theinlet canal.
The thwack and screech of a glanced bullet that flicked a spurt ofgravel into Lennon's face, warned him that the Navahos were not doingall the firing. Though so many of the Apaches had been killed in thesurprise of the counter attack, the survivors of the band stilloutnumbered the rescuers two or three to one.
Lennon knew enough to creep back under the round of the dam. Once safebelow the crest, he sprinted after Slade at top speed. He was undercover until he leaped the inlet canal and skirted along the natural rockrim on the far side of the reservoir.
The problem now was to find a sheltered way from the brink of the rimover and down into the Farleys' kitchen garden. Slade had somehow madethe crossing. He was safe in a position of vantage at the goat pens.
Before Lennon could locate the sheltered line of descent he noticed thatsome of the shots sounded from farther down the valley. His firstthought was that more Apaches were coming to join in the fight. Slade'sreinforcements from the pueblo could not be expected before late in theday.
For a moment the situation appeared truly desperate. The odds werealready heavy enough, without the addition of more Apaches. But acautious peep over the rock rim disclosed to Lennon the happy truth.Out-manoeuvred and cut off from the best cover, the Apaches werebeginning to fall back down the valley.
By close scrutiny, Lennon made out a brown form wriggling away behind aclump of cactus that shut off the view of Slade and the Navahos. At thesecond bullet from the high-power rifle the creeping Apache rolled over.There was no need for a third shot.
After this hit Lennon saw not the slightest sign of the retreating band.But he continued to rake the rocks and cactus clumps with frequentshots, while the Navahos in the ditch followed along the flank of theirhalf-exposed enemies.
Lennon became aware that shots were being fired from the cliff house.Soon afterward he saw Slade rush boldly along the cliff foot. TheApaches were too intent upon flight to fire at the now distant enemiesin their rear. One glance at the trader sent Lennon bounding up over therim of rock and down the slope.
The rope ladder dropped from the cliff house doorway. By the time Lennonreached the tumbledown ranch hut Slade was at the top of the ladder andPete was beginning to climb. Lennon dashed on along the cliff foot. Hegave no heed to the dead Apaches that lay huddled or sprawled amidst thewreckage of the wooden ladder poles and rungs. At the foot of the ropeladder he thrust his rifle through the back of his belt and swung up asfast as he could climb.
Before he had ascended twenty feet a half-spent bullet thudded againstthe cliff face at his elbow. Another grazed his side. At least one ofthe distant Apaches had turned about and was making uncomfortably closeshots at the climber. Lennon stopped short. A bullet struck less than aspan above his head. He hurried on up by irregular jerks and dashes.
More bullets struck around him. One seared his thigh. Owing, however,either to sheer good fortune or to his jerky ascent, he reached the topof the ladder without a serious wound.
Pete lay flattened out in the doorway behind a sack of corn. He wasfiring down the valley. Lennon flung himself in past the young Navaho.Safe within the cliff house, he reeled against the massive wall andstood panting for breath.
From the doorway of the living room came a happy cry. Elsie darted outto fling her arms about Lennon.
"Oh! oh! oh! You did get up, Jack--you did!" she cried. "Mena wasdreadfully afraid for you. The 'Paches have killed one of Slade'spunchers and are chasing the others back."
Lennon kissed the quivering girl and thrust her from him to grasp hisrifle.
"We're safe now, Blossom. But I must help to cover the retreat of ourmen."
He ran to the crane-hoist opening. Slade was crouched behind a barricadeof corn-filled sacks, hotly blazing away down the valley. Lennon hurriedon into the living room.
Beside the nearest outer window Farley lay upon a pile of rugs verywhite and still. His neck and right leg were swathed in bandages. Therifle under the window showed that the broken drunkard had not lackedcourage to join in the defense of his home.
Carmena stood at the next window, too intent upon her firing to heed herexposed position. A bullet had grazed the side of her head. At sight ofthe blood trickling down on her cheek Lennon felt an almost irresistibleimpulse to run over and draw her out of danger.
But the angle of the girl's rifle barrel told him that the fight wasrapidly coming back up the valley. He sprang to Farley's window. As helooked down, the two Navahos broke from the last scant cover and cameleaping and zigzagging up toward the cliff foot.
Lennon thrust out his rifle and began to pump shots at the
scrub andcactus clumps above which rose thin puffs of semi-smokeless powder. Abullet nipped the point of his shoulder. He jumped back to refill hismagazine. Before he could again empty it, another bullet seared acrossthe top of his head. He reeled and fell senseless.
When he recovered consciousness he was first aware of the face ofCarmena. In his first daze, he fancied that he was out on the far sideof the Basin, lying upon the sand under the cliff where the Gila monsterhad bitten his hand. The girl's eyes were clouded with the same look ofprofound concern that he had then seen in their shadowy depths.
But as his own gaze cleared he noticed two marked differences in herappearance. One of her pale cheeks was streaked with crimson, and thedark eyes were wide not with dread alone. They gazed down at him heavywith the anguish of mingled grief and yearning. He knew that he waslooking into the girl's inmost heart.
A hand was thrust between their faces--a little dimpled hand that held abowl of red liquid. Elsie's voice quavered urgently:
"Let me fix your hurt with the dragon sap, Mena. He's alive again."
Carmena's long lashes drooped upon her white cheeks. She drew back.Lennon turned aside his violently aching head. Across the living room hesaw Pete cauterizing a bullet wound on the bare arm of a fellow Navahowith the astringent red sap of the sangre de dragon tree.
Elsie noticed Lennon's roving look of inquiry.
"They shot the other one on the ladder," she explained. "But Slade isn'thurt, and he hauled the ladder up. Cochise can't get us now."
"Not now," whispered Carmena. "But if Slade----"
Her low-pitched voice broke and hushed to a frightened silence.
Slade swaggered in from the anteroom and stood grinning as if very wellsatisfied with what he saw.