ome of the Sioux. Down again at
furious speed came a scattered cloud of young braves, following the lead
of the tall, magnificent chief who had been the hero of the earlier
attack,--down into the low ground, never swerving or checking pace,
straight for the grove, the three or four inquisitive blue-coats in the
meantime scurrying for shelter; and the yell that went up at sight of
the Indian dash and the quick reopening of the sputtering fire brought
Ray, running once again to the northward edge of the timber, wondering
what could be amiss. Field was lying on his blanket, just under the
bank, as the captain darted by, and grinned his gratification as he
heard the brief, assuring words: "Webb's here--all hands with him." An
instant later a bullet whizzed through the roots of the old cottonwood
above his head, and from far out afield, deadened by the rush of the
wind, a dull crackle of shots told that something had recalled the Sioux
to the attack, and for three minutes there was a lively fusillade all
along the northward side. Then it slowly died away, and other voices,
close at hand,--someone speaking his name,--called the lad's attention.
He was weak from loss of blood, and just a little dazed and flighty. He
had meant three hours agone that when next he encountered his post
commander his manner should plainly show that senior that even a second
lieutenant had rights a major was bound to respect. But, only mistily
now, he saw bending over him the keen, soldierly features,--the kind,
winsome gray eyes, filled with such a world of concern and
sympathy,--and heard the deep, earnest tones of the voice he knew so
well, calling again his name and mingling cordial praise and anxious
inquiry, and all the rancor seemed to float away with the smoke of the
last carbine shots. He could only faintly return the pressure of that
firm, muscular hand, only feebly smile his thanks and reassurance, and
then he, too, seemed floating away somewhere into space, and he could
not manage to connect what Webb had been saying with the next words that
fastened on his truant senses. It must have been hours later, too, for
darkness had settled on the valley. A little fire was burning under the
shelter of the bank. A little group of soldiers were chatting in low
tone, close at hand. Among them, his arm in a sling, stood a stocky
little chap whose face, seen in the flickering light, was familiar to
him. So was the eager brogue in which that little chap