Then one of the Injins sung out: "Maria!" And I thought of that renegade Mexican, and what I'd heard bout him, and that made me fight harder yet.
But after we'd fought down to the canon-bed, and had lost most of our skin, a half-dozen more fell on me, and in less than no time they had me tied.

Then they picked me up and carried me over to where they'd built a big fire by the corral.
Uncle Jim stopped with an air of finality, and began lazily to refill his pipe.

From the open mud fireplace he picked a coal.

Outside, the rain, faithful to the prophecy of the wide-ringed sun, beat fitfully against the roof.
"That was the closest call I ever had," said he at last.
"But, Uncle Jim," we cried in a confused chorus, "how did you get away?
What did the Indians do to you?
Who rescued you ?" Uncle Jim chuckled.
"The first man I saw sitting at that fire," said he, "was Lieutenant Price of the United States Army, and by him was Tom Horn." "'What's this ?' he asks, and Horn talks to the Injins in Apache.
"'They say they've caught Maria,' translates Horn back again.
"'Maria-nothing!' says Lieutenant Price.

'This is Jim Fox.