Bob Hampton of Placer - Page 14/205

The remainder of that day, as well as much of the gloomy night

following, composed a silent, lingering horror. The fierce pangs of

hunger no longer gnawed, but a dull apathy now held the helpless

defenders. One of the wounded died, a mere lad, sobbing pitifully for

his mother; an infantryman, peering forth from his covert, had been

shot in the face, and his scream echoed among the rocks in multiplied

accents of agony; while Wyman lay tossing and moaning, mercifully

unconscious. The others rested in their places, scarcely venturing to

stir a limb, their roving, wolfish eyes the only visible evidence of

remaining life, every hope vanished, yet each man clinging to his

assigned post of duty in desperation. There was but little firing--the

defenders nursing their slender stock, the savages biding their time.

When night shut down the latter became bolder, and taunted cruelly

those destined to become so soon their hapless victims. Twice the

maddened men fired recklessly at those dancing devils, and one pitched

forward, emitting a howl of pain that caused his comrades to cower once

again behind their covers. One and all these frontiersmen recognized

the inevitable--before dawn the end must come. No useless words were

spoken; the men merely clinched their teeth and waited.

Hampton crept closer in beside the girl while the shadows deepened, and

ventured to touch her hand. Perhaps the severe strain of their

situation, the intense loneliness of that Indian-haunted twilight, had

somewhat softened her resentment, for she made no effort now to repulse

him.

"Kid," he said at last, "are you game for a try at getting out of this?"

She appeared to hesitate over her answer, and he could feel her

tumultuous breathing. Some portion of her aversion had vanished. His

face was certainly not an unpleasant one to look upon, and there were

others other sex who had discovered in it a covering for a multitude of

sins. Hampton smiled slightly while he waited; he possessed some

knowledge of the nature feminine.

"Come, Kid," he ventured finally, yet with new assurance vibrating in

his low voice; "this is surely a poor time and place for any indulgence

in tantrums, and you 've got more sense. I 'm going to try to climb up

the face of that cliff yonder,--it's the only possible way out from

here,--and I propose to take you along with me."

She snatched her hand roughly away, yet remained facing him. "Who gave

you any right to decide what I should do?"

The man clasped his fingers tightly about her slender arm, advancing

his face until he could look squarely into hers. She read in the lines

of that determined countenance an inflexible resolve which overmastered

her.