A short council was held and the four decided to slip through the bush to a point opposite the spur, from whence the scout assured them he could gain access to the village by means of an obscure foot trail that zigzagged up the face of the cliff.
The three found it no easy task to follow Ick Far through the scrub, dodging silently from bush to bush, making swift, low dashes across open spaces, or flattening themselves among the rocks of the creek bank. Nearly an hour was consumed in traversing the distance that brought them to the crest of a low hill which commanded a view of the village—or rather of the timber-crowned ridge where the village had been. For no tepees were visible, evidently having been pulled down to render a less conspicuous target for the bullets of the enemy, or because the lodge-poles were needed to strengthen the barricade that was being erected across the base of the horseshoe at the edge of the clearing, upon the opposite edge of which the attacking party had massed and was firing volley after volley with the evident intention of intimidating the Brushwoods. The four onlookers noted with satisfaction that the besieged Indians were not returning the fire, but were working
