They had two rifles and four revolvers, for Houck had lately become a two-gun man. These they examined carefully to make sure they were in order. The defenders crouched back to back in the pit, each of them searching the thicket for an angle of one hundred and eighty degrees.
The sound of the battle died down. Evidently the pursuers were out of contact with the natives.
"Don't like that," Dud said. "If the Utes have time they'll try to pick us up as they're passin'."
"Think so. Something moved. Down in that hollow. He's outa sight now."
"They've got us located, then. Old Man Trouble headed this way. Something liable to start. Soon now."
The minutes dragged. Bob's eyes blurred from the intensity with which he watched.
A bullet struck the edge of the pit. Bob ducked involuntarily. Presently there was a second shot--and a third.
He and Bob fired at the smoke puffs, growing now more frequent. Both of them knew it would be only a short time till one of them was hit unless their friends came to the rescue. Spurts of sand flew every few moments.
There was another undesirable prospect. The Utes might charge and capture the pit, wiping out the defenders. To prevent this the cowpunchers kept up as lively a fire as possible.
From down the valley came the sound of scattered shots and yells. Dud swung his hat in glee.
"Good boys! They're comin' in on the rear. Hi yi yippy yi!"
Firing began again on the other side. The Utes were caught between the rangers to the left and the soldiers to the right. Bob could see them breaking through the willows toward the river. It was an easy guess that their horses were bunched here and that they would be forced to cross the stream to escape.
Five minutes later Harshaw broke through the saplings to the pit. "Either of you boys hurt?" he demanded anxiously.
"Not a scratch on either of us," Dud reported.
The boss of the Slash Lazy D wrung their hands. "By Godfrey! I'm plumb pleased. Couldn't get it outa my head that they'd got you lads. How's Houck?"
"He's right sick. Doc had ought to look after him soon. He's had one mighty bad day of it."
Houck was carried on a blanket to the riverbank, where camp was being made for the night. The Utes had been routed. It was estimated that ten or twelve of them had been killed, though the number could not be verified, as Indians always if possible carry away their dead. For the present, at least, no further pursuit of them was feasible.