Well, perhaps I better skin down, fer I reckon it's liable ter be rifles next." It was rifles next, and the "winging" of Big Jim, however it may have inspired caution, also developed fresh animosity in the hearts of his followers, and brought forth evidences of discipline in their approach.
Peering across the sheltering dump pile, the besieged were able to perceive the dark figures cautiously advancing through the protecting brush; they spread out widely until their two flanks were close in against the wall of rock, and then the deadly rifles began to spit spitefully, the balls casting up the soft dirt in clouds or flattening against the stones.

The two men crouched lower, hugging their pile of slag, unable to perceive even a stray assailant within range of their ready revolvers.

Hampton remained cool, alert, and motionless, striving in vain to discover some means of escape, but the little marshal kept grimly cheerful, creeping constantly from point to point in the endeavor to get a return shot at his tormentors.
"This whole blame country is full of discharged sojers," he growled, "an' they know their biz all right.

I reckon them fellers is pretty sure to git one of us yit; anyhow, they 've got us cooped.

Say, Bob, thet lad crawling yonder ought to be in reach, an' it's our bounden duty not to let the boys git too gay." Hampton tried the shot suggested, elevating considerable to overcome distance.