carried warning to the up-creeping foe that the whites were both alive
and on the alert.

There was no more sleep within the barricade. The dawn grew into day,
and anxious eyes scanned the trail for reinforcements--coming surely,
but on what heavy and slow-turning wheels!

Noon came and passed. The anxious eyes questioned one another. Had the
rear train been overcome by a larger band of savages? But suddenly
half a dozen of the Indians were seen to spring up with gestures of
excitement, and spread the alarm around the circle.

"They hear the cracking of the bull-whips," said Simpson.

The Indians who had seen the first team pass, and had assumed that
Simpson and his companions were straggling members of it, did not
expect another train so soon. There was "mounting in hot haste," and the
Indians rode away in one bunch for the distant foothills, just as the
first ox-team broke into view.

And never was there fairer picture to more appreciative eyes than those
same lumbering, clumsy animals, and never sweeter music than the harsh
staccato of the bullwhips.

When hunger was appeased, and Woods's wound properly dressed, Will, for
the second time, found himself a hero among the plainsmen. His nerve and
coolness were dwelt upon by Simpson, and to the dream that waked him in
season was ascribed the continued life on earth of the little company.
Will, however, was disposed to allow Turk the full credit for the
service.