. The safety of his command might possibly depend on their not being
recognized as of the troop before whose carbines Chaska, brother to
Lizette, had met his death.

"Perhaps you're right," said Dean. "Halt them again. Conroy, you go with
Sergeant Bruce."

Eagerly a young trooper, carbine in hand, sprang up and stood by the
sergeant's side as the latter repeated his warning signal. Obediently,
yet not too promptly, showing evident desire to get where they could
peer over into the ravine and count the number of the white men and
horses, the Indians again drew rein, this time barely one hundred yards
away. Then Bruce and Conroy, holding up their emptied hands, strode
forward along the grassy slope, making the further sign, "Dismount."

In those days few of our cavalry wore, when on Indian campaign, the
forage-cap with its crossed sabres and distinguishing letters. Nothing
in the dress or accoutrements of the two men thus advancing to meet the
Indian emissaries would give to the latter any clew as to the troop or
regiment to which they belonged. Could they see the horses, however, the
matter would be settled at once. The U. S. brand, with that of the
number of the regiment and letter of the troop showed on every cavalry
mount in the service, and the Ogallallas knew the earmarks of two, at
least, of our cavalry regiments in '68 as well as they did the cut of
their own hair. But in the modesty of the non-commissioned officer Bruce
had underrated his own prominence in Indian eyes. Not only did these
keen observers know every officer by sight, and have for him some
distinguishing name of their own, but many a trooper, easily singled out
from his fellows because of his stature, or the color of his hair, or
some other physical peculiarity, was as well known as his captain or
lieutenant, and Bruce, ex-trooper of the Scots Greys, and now a model
sergeant of Yankee cavalry, was already a marked man in the eyes of the
southern Sioux. Brule, Minneconjou and Ogallalla knew him well--his
aquiline beak, to which the men would sometimes slyly allude, having won
him the Indian appellative of Posh Kopee or Big Nose.

Before the two parties came within fifty yards of each other, therefore,
watchers along the ravine saw the quick exchange of significant glances
between the young braves. "Twig that?" whispered Trooper Blaine, in low,
emphatic tone. "Those fellows know 'Scotty' just as well as we do."

All the same, leaving their trained p