Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 46: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ON THE TRAIL it was it looked as if there was no means of preventing them. It has been shown that the rear of the blind was as open to attack as a stretch of prairie. The most that we could do was to fling ourselves on the opposite side of the log, now serving as a sort of fortification, but, by holding widely separated positions, the Howard men could reach each side of the prostrate tree without the slightest difficulty. The only possible way of preventing this was by taking our men “on the fly,” as they darted from tree to tree, and that was a feat beyond the accom- plishment of my two companions, for Zach Peters and his friends displayed wonderful woodcraft. After the first run of the two, they cut down their spurts to half the distance, and they moved with such remarkable quickness that the run was completed before any aim could be secured. But Jake Auckland made the at- tempt, and, as before, he drew bead on Zach Peters, but missed him. ‘Damn him!” muttered the chag- rined youth; “ he’s a keen one!” I, who did nothing but peer over the log and through the leaves of the blind, was filled with admiration by another interesting discovery made at this mo- ment. In making their run from tree to tree the two moved backward as well as toone side. By placing a great- er interval between them and us, they interposed more undergrowth, and con- sequently gained greater protection. Moreover, the shrewd fellows adopt- ed a still more effective artifice. After securing the screen of the bushes, they crept from tree to tree, where it was impossible for us to catch a glimpse of them. When they had done this for a little way, they would rise to their feet and, in pure bravado, make the run in plain sight, calling to us to know why we didn’t learn to shoot. Vic Hawkins was so exasperated by these taunts that he fired twice, with the result only of bringing more ridi- cule upon his head. OF A MYSTERY. 37 t A ‘brief experience of this work es- tablished one fact: our enemies were determined to get to the rear of the blind despite everything we could do, and, when that was accomplished, the tables would be turned on us with a vengeance. The infernal cleverness of those Howard men was unsurpassable. While the two to whom [I have referred were moving further apart and steadily work- ing to our rear, the third held his posi- tion in front. We knew he was there somewhere, Winchester in hand, watchful, alert, vigilant, ready to fire on the first open- ing, and faithfully guarding that side, while his companions forced their way to the most vulnerable approach of our primitive fortification. It will be seen that our situation was fast becoming. desperate. Our enemies had ceased firing, preferring to waif until they had a sure thing of it. “We must each run for a tree,” I said to my companions, wondering why they delayed in doing so. “ You're right, pardner ” Vic Hawkins muttered something, rose partly to his feet, and separating the branches with his left hand, thrust his face forward and peered through. That third man, who was on the watch, and much nearer to us than either of the others, must have caught sight of the swarthy countenance, framed with leaves, for almost at the same moment there was a puff of smoke and a ringing report from a point seemingly less than a hundred feet in front, and Hawkins, with a gasp, flung up his arms, dropped his Winchester, and tumbled over on his back, like a statue of putty. CHAPTER XI. THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM. A SINGLE glance at Vic Hawkins showed that he was as dead as dead eco could be. Whoever fired _ from the _