"And when you return, sergeant, I will drop two more," said I.

We went quickly to work to carry out our plan. The corporal once more
mended the fire, and then we selected from the loose rubbish which had
been torn from the top of the chimney several large-sized stones.

Removing his shoes, the sergeant, with my assistance, raised two big
stones to his breast, and stood in the doorway with them clasped
firmly in his arms. I took the revolvers in my hands, whispered the
word, and he started out at a rapid walk, setting his feet down
carefully and without noise. He dropped the stones, one before the
other, without attracting attention, and regained the cabin without a
shot being fired on either side.

Now it was my turn, and I went beyond the place where he had dropped
his last stone.

At that instant an alarm was shouted from the distant wood, and an
Indian raised his head above the log and fired. The bullet struck the
falling rock, and sent a shower of stinging splinters into my face. I
turned and fled.

With the discharge of the Indian's rifle Sergeant Cunningham and
Corporal Frank opened a rapid fusillade with the revolvers, which
successfully covered my retreat to the cabin; but we knew that our
last chance at stone-dropping was past.

Several terribly long hours had crept past since we saw Vic turn the
butte on her errand to the valleys. Judging by the time it had taken