sent the notes rollicking through the waves
of heat.

Officers ran hither-thither; the men ran; the teamsters ran; the herd
swung in, for the parked wagons. The "general" was the first signal to
form ranks.

The leading horsemen of the nine couriers galloped into the water and
surged across. By the time the last had arrived, the second signal,
the "assembly," had been sounded; the tents were being struck, baggage
tied, and the oxen driven to their yokes. The companies were about to
form.

All these preparations took some time. Two hundred men cannot break
camp in an instant and march with bag and baggage into Indian country.
And when "To the color," as the final call was known, had been sounded,
the sun was set, and the first purple was flowing into the hollows of
the vast, lonely land.

The major was going, with his whole force. The couriers had reported
one thousand Indians, at the least; the sand-hills were full of them;
all the Kiowa and Comanche nations were rallied to close the trail. It
would not do to leave an unprotected camp, and no men were to be spared.

In the twilight they forded the shallow Arkansas--the army oxen
straining in their yokes, a squad of soldiers pushing each wagon. They
entered Mexico; all were liable to arrest, but who cared?

The couriers guided into the sand-hills. The major and his staff
followed on their mules. The column of footmen and wagons toiled after.

They could hear no sounds of fighting, before. The twilight deepened.
They must move cautiously. The Indians had seen the couriers ride out,
they might be laying an ambush. A file of skirmishers fringed either
flank, well out; scouts examined the country, ahead. Every ear was
pricked, every eye searched right and left.

The silence was very mysterious. The couriers had reported that the
Indians' circle was wide, to avoid the cannon. When the stars read
midnight, the major thought that he surely had arrived at the scene.
The word was passed that every wheel and hoof and foot should be
muffled as much as possible, and the infantry were halted, to await the
baggage train.

They proceeded. About one o'clock their advance struck the wagon
corral itself. The Indians had not discovered them; the caravan
out-posts had not discovered them: either side might have surprised the
other side, evidently, but neither side knew. In fact, they had not
been expected before morning. No one had dreamed that Major Riley
wo