, sent for Sergeant Hamlin.

The latter advanced within the glow of the fire, and saluted.

"We have been gaining on those fellows, Sergeant," the Major began,
"and must be drawing close to the Washita."

"We are travelling faster than they did, sir," was the reply, "because
they had to break trail, and there were some women and children with
them. I have no knowledge of this region, but the creek empties into
the Washita without doubt."

"That would be my judgment. Sparling and I were just talking it over.
I shall wait here until Custer comes up; my force is too small to
attack openly, and my orders are not to bring on an engagement. Custer
has some Osage scouts with him who will know this country."

"But, Major," ventured Hamlin, "if the General follows our trail it
will be hours yet before he can reach here, and then his men will be
completely exhausted."

"He will not follow our trail. He has Corbin and 'California Joe' with
him. They are plainsmen who know their business. He 'll cross the
Canadian, and strike out across the plains to intercept us. In that
way he will have no farther to travel than we have had. In my judgment
we shall not wait here long alone. Have you eaten?"

"No, sir; I have been stationing the guard."

"Then sit down here and share what little we have. We can waive
formality to-night."

It was after nine o'clock when the sentries challenged the advance of
Custer's column, as it stole silently out of the gloom. Ten minutes
later the men were hovering about the fires, absorbing such small
comforts as were possible, while the General and Major Elliott
discussed the situation and planned to push forward. An hour later the
fires were extinguished, the horses quietly saddled, and noiselessly
the tired cavalrymen moved out once more and took up the trail. The
moon had risen, lighting up the desert, and the Osage guides, together
with the two scouts, led the way. At Custer's request Hamlin rode
beside him in lead of the troopers. Not a word was spoken above a
whisper, and strict orders were passed down the line prohibiting the
lighting of a match or the smoking of a pipe. Canteens were muffled
and swords thrust securely under saddle flaps. Like a body of spectres
they moved silently across the snow in the moonlight, cavalry capes
drawn over their heads, the only sound the crunching of horses' hoofs
breaking through the crust.

The trail was as distinct as a road, and the gui