Few details of those long hours of waiting ever came forth from that
black canyon of death. Many of the men sorely wounded, all wearied,
powder-stained, faint with hunger, and parched with thirst, they simply
fought out to the bitter ending their desperate struggle against
despair. The towering, overhanging wall at their back assured
protection from above, but upon the opposite cliff summit, and easily
within rifle range, the cunning foe early discovered lodgment, and from
that safe vantage-point poured down a merciless fire, causing each man
to crouch lower behind his protecting bowlder. No motion could be
ventured without its checking bullet, yet hour after hour the besieged
held their ground, and with ever-ready rifles left more than one
reckless brave dead among the rocks. The longed-for night came dark
and early at the bottom of that narrow cleft, while hardly so much as a
faint star twinkled in the little slit of sky overhead. The cunning
besiegers crept closer through the enshrouding gloom, and taunted their
entrapped victims with savage cries and threats of coming torture, but
no warrior among them proved sufficiently bold to rush in and slay.
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