Just then Captain Belton came up with his men, but seeing the madness of attempting to assail the infuriated horde of red demons, savage at their success and the sight of blood, he wisely retired, and joined Reno, who had taken up a position on one of the bluffs back of the river bank.
"Cannon to the right of them, Cannon to the left of them, Cannon in the front of them, Volleyed and thundered. Onward through shot and shell, Into the mouth of hell, They who had fought so well, Rode the six hundred." --_Charge of the Light Brigade._
The Crimean war may have presented its phases of reckless daring to the world, but I doubt if such a case as Custer's gallop to glory and death has been paralleled since the days of Leonidas and his deathless Spartans in the world-famed pass of Thermopylæ.
They literally rode to destruction, as may be seen when it is officially stated that not one regular soldier in the whole command lived through the battle.
After leaving the attack at the upper end of the village to Reno's case, Custer and his men struck along the route selected, at as rapid a pace as the nature of the ground permitted.
This line of travel was just beyond the crest of the high bluffs, and no doubt the leading principle that actuated the general into selecting it, was an idea that their movements might be concealed from the enemy.
In this, however, the project failed utterly, for great numbers of Indian scouts had posted themselves on the crags and their rifles kept up a continued musical refrain far from pleasant to the ears of the devoted band, more than one of whom threw up his arms and fell from his steed as the bitter lead cut home.
It was a dangerous ride, and yet in the face of this murderous fire these valiant men rode on, turning neither to the right nor the left, but keeping straight forward.
Now and then a trooper, exasperated beyond endurance by the fall of some dear comrade, would discharge his carbine at the Indians who showed themselves boldly on one side.
Owing to the rapid motion these shots were indifferently rewarded, only a few of the most expert hitting the objects of their aim.
On ordinary occasions old Pandy Ellis would have been one of the first to prove his markmanship, but something seemed to keep his attention riveted in one direction, and amidst the storm of hissing bullets, growing momentarily louder and more threatening, the prairie ranger rode as calmly as if indeed there was no danger.