goodness' sake," he added impressively, "don't waste much time
shooting goats."

The Hillmen had stopped about two hundred yards off, and were
drawn up in two lines, shouting, and dancing, and hurling
taunting remarks at their few adversaries. The stolen cattle
were bunched together back of the King. As Stedman walked
steadily forward with his handkerchief fluttering, and howling
out something in their own tongue, they stopped and listened.
As he advanced, his three companions followed him at about
fifty yards in the rear. He was one hundred and fifty yards
from the Hillmen before they made out what he said, and then
one of the young braves, resenting it as an insult to his
chief, shot an arrow at him. Stedman dodged the arrow and
stood his ground without even taking a step backward, only
turning slightly to put his hands to his mouth, and to shout
something which sounded to his companions like, "About time to
begin on the goats." But the instant the young man had fired,
King Messenwah swung his club and knocked him down, and none
of the others moved. Then Messenwah advanced before his men
to meet Stedman, and on Stedman's opening and shutting his
hands to show that he was unarmed, the King threw down his
club and spears, and came forward as empty-handed as himself.

"Ah," gasped Bradley, Jr., with his finger trembling on his
lever, "let me take a shot at him now." Gordon struck the
man's gun up, and walked forward in all the glory of his gold
and blue uniform; for both he and Stedman saw now that
Messenwah was more impressed by their appearance, and in the
fact that they were white men, than with any threats of