five minutes after
nine o'clock
At nine o'clock this morning a veteran Indian fighter , crouching in his sheltered lookout above the caves and scanning with practised eye the frowning front of the range , declared that not an Apache was to be seen or heard within rifle-shot , yet was in no wise surprised when , a few minutes later , as he happened to show his head above the rocky parapet , there came zipping a dozen bullets about his ears and the cliffs fairly crackled with the sudden flash of rifles hidden up to that instant on every side . Indians who can creep upon wagon-train or emigrant camp in the midst of an open and unsheltered plain find absolutely no difficulty in surrounding unsuspected and unseen a bivouac in the mountains . Inexperienced officers or men would have been picked off long before the opening of the general attack , but the Apaches themselves are the first to know that they have veteran troopers to deal with , for up to this moment only one has shown himself at all . At five minutes after nine o'clock Lieutenant Drummond , glancing exultingly around upon his little band of fighters , had blessed the foresight of Pasqual Morales and his gang that they had so thoroughly fortified their lair against sudden assault . Three on the southern , two on the northern brink of the gorge and behind impenetrable shelter , and two more in reserve in the cañon , his puny garrison was in position and had replied with such spirit and promptitude to the Apache attack that only at rare intervals now is a shot necessary , except when for the purpose of drawing the enemy and locating his position a hat is poked up on the muzzle of a carbine . The assailants ' fire , too , is still , but that , as Drummond 's men well know , means only `` look out for other devilment . '' Out on the eastward desert , still far over towards the other side , a little party of Apaches is hurrying to join the fray .