CHAPTER XIII .-- The Redskin.
They took their post behind some rocks in front of them.

The bottom was composed of sand and gravel, the only rock being that behind which Dick had crouched, close to the entrance.
"Mind, we mustn't all fire at once," Dave said; "one must always be loading, and we will take it in turns to fire.

Of course, if they make a rush we must take to our six-shooters; but they aint likely to do that.
I will fire first, Zeke, you follow me; I reckon they aint likely to miss either of us." Another quarter of an hour passed, and then suddenly a mounted Indian appeared at the mouth of the Canyon.

He checked his horse and sat gazing up it.

Dave's rifle cracked, and the Indian fell backward from his saddle; and a sudden yell of anger and surprise rose outside.