X.

Before the sounding of tattoo that night, the stage came in from
Cheyenne. It had been warned by fleeing ranchmen of the presence of the
Sioux at Eagle's Nest, and had turned back to the strong defences at
"Phillips's," on the Chug, remaining there in security until the driver
had satisfied himself that the coast was clear. No passengers came down
with him, but he brought the mail; and, as none had been received for
two days, and the wires were still down, the major commanding turned
out and tramped to the combined stage-station and post-office the
moment he was notified of the arrival. Here, while the letters and
papers were being distributed, he was accommodated with a chair in Mrs.
Griffin's little parlor, and his own personal mail was handed in to him
as rapidly as the swift fingers of the postmistress could sort the
various missives. Outside, the stage-driver was surrounded by a little
crowd of soldiers, scouts, and teamsters, and held forth with frontier
descriptive power on the adventures of the night previous. He could
"swar" the Sioux had burned a "Black Hills outfit" not far below
Eagle's Nest, for he had come far enough this side of the Chug to see
the glare in the skies, and had passed the charred remnants just before
sundown this very evening. He had heard along the road that there were
anywhere from two to five hundred Indians on the raid; and Miller,
listening to the eager talk and comparing the estimate of the
ranch-people with the experiences of his own campaigning, readily made
up his mind that there were probably four or five score of young
warriors in the party,--too many, with their magazine rifles,
revolvers, and abundant ammunition, for Terry to successfully "tackle"
with his little detachment. The major rejoiced that the captain was
sensible enough to discontinue the pursuit at the Niobrara crossing.
Beyond that there were numerous ridges, winding ravines, even a shallow
canyon or two,--the very places for ambuscade; and it would be an easy
matter for a small party of the Sioux to drop back and give the
pursuers a bloody welcome. No! Terry had done admirably so long as
there was a chance of square fighting, and his subsequent moves,
barring the one dash down-stream after a "fooling party" while the main
body slipped across the ford, had been dictated by sound judgment. He
deplored the crippled and depleted condition of his little command,
however. Here was Blunt, one of his best cavalry off