n at respectful attention.

"I will talk with you at some future time, Sergeant," Custer said at
last, resuming his seat on a log. "Now we shall have to consider the
to-morrow's march. Were you within sight of Black Kettle's camp?"

"No, sir; only of his pony herd out in the valley of the Canadian."

"Where would you suppose the camp situated?"

"Above, behind the bluffs, about the mouth of Buffalo Creek."

Custer drew the map toward him, scrutinizing it carefully.

"You may be right, of course," he commented, his glance on the faces of
the officers, "but this does not agree with the understanding at Camp
Supply, nor the report of our Indian scouts. We supposed Black Kettle
to be farther south on the Washita. How large was the pony herd?"

"We were not near enough to count the animals, sir, but there must have
been two hundred head."

"A large party then, at least. What do you say, Corbin?"

The scout addressed, conspicuous in his buffalo skin coat, leaned
against the tent-pole, his black whiskers moving industriously as he
chewed.

"Wal, Gineral," he said slowly, "I know this yere 'Brick' Hamlin, an'
he 's a right smart plainsman, sojer 'er no sojer. If he says he saw
thet pony herd, then he sure did. Thet means a considerable bunch o'
Injuns thar, er tharabouts. Now I know Black Kettle's outfit is down
on the Washita, so the only conclusion is that this yere band thet the
Sergeant stirred up is some new tribe er other, a-driftin' down frum
the north. I reckon if we ride up ther valley we 'll hit their trail,
an' it 'll lead straight down to them Cheyennes."

Custer took time to consider this explanation, spreading the field map
out on his knees, and measuring the distance between the streams. No
one in the little group spoke, although several leaned forward eagerly.
The chief was not a man to ask advice; he preferred to decide for
himself. Suddenly he straightened up and threw back his head to look
about.

"In my judgment Corbin is right, gentlemen," he said impetuously. "I
had intended crossing here, but instead we will go further up stream.
There is doubtless a ford near Buffalo Creek, and if we can strike an
Indian trail leading to the Washita, we can follow easily by night, or
day, and it is bound to terminate at Black Kettle's camp. Return to
your troops, and be ready to march at daybreak. Major Elliott, you
will take the advance again, at least three hours ahead of the main
column. M