noon
Out on the flats to the west of the Verde road , full five hundred yards away from rock , tree or shelter , other than mere clump of cactus , pumpkin size , or bunch of dirty weed , there was lying a little heap of dingy white and brown , with a cow pony kicking at empty air in a shallow ditch -- what was left of the half-breed herd guard and his mount . With most of the cavalry gone , the quartermaster had supplied their place with such mounted men as he could make available , and in broad daylight , within long rifle-shot of the sentry lines , the Apaches had squirmed out , snake-like , on their bellies , unseen , unsuspected ; had picked off one of two watchers and stampeded the other . The skirmish line stumbled over the survivor , quaking among the willows in the stream bed , and kicked him out into the open to help bear home his murdered brother ; then pushed out as far as the first ridge in hopes of a shot , and were rewarded with nothing better than a glimpse of vanishing breech-clouts . Falling slowly back , toward noon , Bonner posted two men in each of a dozen rifle-pits , some fifty yards outside the sentry lines , as a rule , and wherever view of the approaches could be had . Two of these were on little knolls to the south of the store , and here were Craney & Co. in full force , every man armed with a Henry rifle and a war-model Colt , `` Mr. Case-Keeper Book , '' as Sergeant Clancy jovially hailed him , quite as formidable as his fellows , and every whit as cool . Craney held that he and his men had a right to be counted in among those told off to hold the fort , and Bonner smilingly assented . `` You two seem to hit it off pretty well together , '' said he to Case and Clancy .