You have your
derringer; and when you see that there is no help for it, if they
get away with the whole outfit, why, there's only one thing to be
done. Don't let them get the baby, for they will carry you both
off and - well, you know the squaws are much more cruel than the
bucks. Don't let them get either of you alive. Now" - to the
driver - "go on."
Jack was a man of few words, and seldom spoke much in times like
that.
So I lay very quiet in the bottom of the ambulance. I realized
that we were in great danger. My thoughts flew back to the East,
and I saw, as in a flash, my father and mother, sisters and
brother; I think I tried to say a short prayer for them, and that
they might never know the worst. I fixed my eyes upon my
husband's face. There he sat, rifle in hand, his features
motionless, his eyes keenly watching out from one side of the
ambulance, while a stalwart cavalry-man, carbine in hand, watched
the other side of the narrow defile. The minutes seemed like
hours.
The driver kept his animals steady, and we rattled along.
At last, as I perceived the steep slope of the road, I looked
out, and saw that the Pass was widening out, and we must be
nearing the end of it. "Keep still," said Jack, without moving a
feature.
