orning the chief, with his subordinates and a scout, ascended the creek
and then through the pass to the summit. Again the old St. Vrain and
Laramie Trail lay in sight. And again the troops rode along it, with the
engineers above.

The chief with his men rode on and up farther than usual; farther than
they ought to have gone unattended. Once the scout halted and gazed
intently across the valley.

"Smoke signals over thar," he said.

The engineers looked long, but none of them saw any smoke. They moved
on. But the scout called them back.

"Thet bunch of redskins has split on us. Fust thing we'll run into some
of them."

It was Neale's hawk eye that first sighted Indians. "Look! Look!" he
cried, in great excitement, as he pointed with shaking finger.

Down a grassy slope of a ridge Indians were riding, evidently to head
off the engineers, to get between them and the troops.

"Wal, we're in fer it now," declared the scout. "We can't get back the
way we come up."

The chief gazed coolly at the Indians and then at the long ridge sloping
away from the summit. He had been in tight places before.

"Ride!" was his order.

"Let's fight!" cried Neale.

The band of eight men were well armed and well mounted, and if
imperative, could have held off the Sioux for a time. But General Lodge
and the scout headed across a little valley and up a higher ridge, from
which they expected to sight the troops. They rode hard and climbed
fast, but it took a quarter of an hour to gain the ridge-top. Sure
enough the troops were in sight, but far away, and the Sioux were
cutting across to get in front.

It was a time for quick judgment. The scout said they could not ride
down over the ridge, and the chief decided they must follow along it.
The going got to be hard and rough. One by one the men dismounted to
lead their horses. Neale, who rode a mettlesome bay, could scarcely keep
up.

"Take mine," called Larry King, as he turned to Neale.

"Red, I'll handle this stupid beast or--"

"Wal, you ain't handlin' him," interrupted King. "Hosses is my job, you
know."

Red took the bridle from Neale and in one moment the balky horse
recognized a master arm.

"By Heaven! we've got to hurry!" called Neale.

It did seem that the Indians would head them off. Neale and King labored
over the rocky ground as best they could, and by dint of hard effort
came up with their party. The Indians were quartering the other ridge,
riding as if on leve