p into his throat and softened the soldier light in
his eye. "You'd rather be here than at the agency guard, I fancy,
Brannan?"

"Indeed I would, sir, if we get a fight out of 'em."

"We'll get it, I think, and speedily, too. Look to your pistols, men.
We're to charge them."

One could almost feel the thrill that leaped along the column. Every
horse seemed to start and paw and dance as though impatient for the
word. Some faces flushed, others lost a shade or two of tan, as some
faces will in presence of sudden peril or the news of stirring battle
just ahead. Out from the holsters came the blue-brown Colts, each man
twirling the cylinder, testing the hammer and trigger, and counting his
shots, even while holding the weapon steadfastly "muzzle up." Nervous
troopers have been known to kill a comrade or his horse at just such
times.

"Look to it that each has six shots ready, and remember the old rules
now, men. Stop for nothing unless some one falls. Charge through and
rally on the farther side. Careful about the women and children if there
are any. Return pistol now." And here again came Sanders galloping back,
his face aglow, his eyes snapping.

"Treed 'em, captain," he shouted, gleefully. "A thundering big,
loose-jointed village, too, tepees and all. It covers a ten-acre lot and
more. Must be a thousand ponies in the herd right around the point. The
major says to come ahead with 'C.'"

Just here the ground was open and fairly level, the trail cutting across
a bend in the stream. Just ahead towered Good Heart Butte, with its
glistening, gilded crest throwing a black shadow half-way up the
billowing westward slopes. Over at the east across the stream, bold and
beautifully rounded, the bluffs went rolling away, knoll after knoll,
shoulder after shoulder heavily wooded and fringed at their bases and in
the deep ravines, and away over those natural ramparts, far out to the
southeast, still rode and peeped and peered the young braves, but ever
in the direction of the far Ogallalla, marvelling that no sign appeared
of the threatening foe. Not half a mile in front, along a low ridge, a
little group of scouts, Hawk, Bear, and two half-breed Sioux, were
lying, peeping at the village still sleeping in fancied security.
Chrome, riding a trifle heavily, and speaking with just a tinge of
excitement in his tone, came jogging back from the ridge to meet his men
just as Cranston's troop trotted up from the rear of column, paralle