the enterprise, had said he knew the country
perfectly, had been there half a dozen times, and they left it all to
him. They never dreamed they were doing wrong until their camp was
"jumped" in the dead of night, and the Sioux chased them every inch of
the way till they got in sight of the cavalry.

Yet here was the detachment, at six o'clock of this sparkling morning,
clear out of sight of the rest of the cavalry, and half-way across the
long swale of the next divide, and, though the print of the shod horses
was easily followed, not once yet, anywhere--although the little troop
was spread out in long extended line and searched diligently--not once
had they found the print of a pony hoof. Now they were full an hour,
and nearly four miles, out from camp, and Geordie signalled, slowly
swinging his campaign hat about his head, for his men to assemble, then
dismount and take their ten minutes' rest.

"Con," said he, presently, "it's my belief those scamps were lying. The
only Indians near the Chaduza were those that skipped for White River
last night and are probably heading for Eagle's Nest now. Their trail
must be three miles or more west of us here, and South Fork isn't three
miles ahead. We'll see it from yonder ridge."

Connell was squatting, tailor fashion, on the turf, and thoughtfully
playing "mumble-t'-peg" with his hunting-knife, while his troop horse
cropped thriftily at the bunch grass. Graham had been giving a glance
over his little command, watching the resetting of a saddle or a
careful folding of a blanket. It would presently be time to mount and
start, but there was something on his mind, and, as of old, he wanted
to have it out with his chum.

Connell drew his knife from the sod, then, with the point on the tip of
the left forefinger and the haft deftly held between the thumb and
finger of his right, shifted it over by his right ear and sent it
whirling down, saw it sink two inches in the sand, bolt upright, then
queried: "They said their camp was on the Fork ten miles away
northward. Could that be?"

"It might. The Fork turns almost square to the north and runs back of
Rosebud. But what I mean is, they weren't chased by the Sioux. I doubt
if they fought them at all."

"How about Gamble's horse?--and the blood? There's been some kind of a
fight. Look, Con! There's a signal!"

Surely enough. As Connell sprang to his feet and the men quickly turned
to their grazing horses, one of the troopers, far i