the
sandy stream bed a little to the west of the cottonwoods, it spread in
wild career over a huge tract along the left bank, and now, reuniting
with the southern wing some distance down the valley, was roaring away
to the bluffs of the Mini Pusa, leaving death and desolation in its
track. Miles to the east the war parties from the reservation, riding to
join Lame Wolf, sighted the black curtain of smoke, swift sailing over
the prairie, and changed their course accordingly. Not so many miles
away to the south Webb's skirmishers, driving before them three or four
Sioux scouts from the northward slope of the Moccasin Ridge, set spurs
to their horses and took the gallop, the main body following on.

With their eyelids blistered by heat and smoke, Ray's silent, determined
little band could see nothing of the coming force, yet knew relief was
nigh; for, close at hand, both east and west, large bodies of the enemy
could be seen swift riding away to the north.

They had hoped, as "Fox" had planned and promised, to burn out and
overwhelm the little troop at the grove before the column from Frayne
could possibly reach the spot. They had even anticipated the probable
effort of the command to check the flames, and had told off some fifty
braves to open concentric fire on any party that should rush into the
open with that object in view. They had thought to send in such a storm
of lead, even from long range, that it should daunt and drive back those
who had dared the attempt. They had stormed indeed, but could neither
daunt nor drive back. Ray's men had braved death itself in the desperate
essay, and, even in dying, had won the day.

But their losses had been cruel. Three killed outright; three dying and
eight more or less severely wounded had reduced their fighting strength
to nearly thirty. The guards of the sorrels, herded in the stream bed,
had all they could do to control the poor, frightened creatures, many of
them hit, several of them felled, by the plunging fire from the far
hillsides. Even though driven back, the Sioux never meant to give up the
battle. On every side, leaving their ponies at safe distance, by dozens
the warriors crawled forward, snake-like, to the edge of the burned and
blackened surface, and from there poured in a rapid and most harassing
fire, compelling the defence to lie flat or burrow further, and wounding
many horses. The half hour that followed the repulse of their grand
assault had been sorely tr