d infantry
both had disappeared over the curtaining ridge, and the colonel's face
grew grave and haggard as he listened. Three-fifths of his little
garrison were out there battling against unknown numbers. They had gone
to rescue the detachment and bring it safely in. That rescue was
accomplished. The precious package for which so much had been risked was
here--but what detained the command? Why did they not return? Beyond
doubt far more Indians were out there now than when first the firing
began. "Gallop out, Mr. Adjutant, and tell the major to withdraw his
line and fall back on the stockade," was the order--and with a lump in
his throat the young officer mounted again and started. He was a pet in
the garrison, only in his second year of commission. They saw him gallop
through the gate, saw him ride gallantly straight for the curtaining
ridge beyond which the smoke was rising heavily now, saw him breasting
the slope, his orderly following, saw him almost reach it, and then
suddenly the prairie seemed to jet fire. The foremost horse reared,
plunged, and went rolling over and over. They saw--plainly saw through
their glasses, and a shriek of agony and horror went up from among the
women at the sight--half a dozen painted savages spring out from behind
the ledge, some on pony back, some afoot, and bear down on the stricken
form of the slender young rider now feebly striving to rise from the
turf; saw the empty hand outstretched, imploring mercy; saw jabbing
lances and brandished war-clubs pinning the helpless boy to earth and
beating in the bared, defenseless head; saw the orderly dragged from
under his struggling horse and butchered by his leader's side; saw the
bloody knives at work tearing away the hot red scalps, then ripping off
the blood-soaked clothing, and, to the music of savage shouts of glee
and triumph, hacking, hewing, mutilating the poor remains, reckless of
the bullets that came buzzing along the turf from the score of
Springfields turned loose at the instant among the loopholes of the
stockade. It was eight hundred yards away in the dazzling light of the
rising sun. Old Springfields did not carry as do the modern arms.
Soldiers of those days were not taught accurate shooting as they are
now. It was too far for anything but chance, and all within a minute or
two the direful tragedy was over, and the red warriors had darted back
behind the ridge from which they came.

"My God! sir," gasped the officer who st