“A dispatch from headquarters, sir,” panted Ned, holding it out.
As he rode, Captain Benteen rapidly read it. Ned held himself prepared at a word to whirl and carry the order on to the packs. But as the captain read, the spattering of shots in the distance before suddenly swelled to a continuous clamor. The captain raised his head, listening, gazing. Louder, and louder, rang the gun-fire, as if the battle was approaching. The Indians were being driven this way? What——? But the captain’s order rang smartly.
“B’tall-_yun_, draw—pistols! Gallop—march!”
With a cheer they lunged ahead, pistols held high, eyes alert, ready to meet the fleeing Sioux and turn them back again.
The valley widened; in this direction had ridden the Major Reno battalion, recalled Ned, as he, too, galloped, pistol high.
“Right and left into line—march!” shouted Captain Benteen, to cover the ground with battle front.
Then, as all were galloping, forming the line, the draw opened upon a wide cross valley, and there was the battle field—a brushy, broken arena, cut by the willow-bordered crooked stream, hazy with smoke of burning grass and powder through which echoed shot and shout and chant, and through which dimly could be seen horsemen careering in all directions, as if attacking a common object in their midst. Upon a bluff to the right was another battle—soldiers above, Indians below.
The gallop quickly ceased. Now where to go, or what to do, first?
The cry and the murmur swept from man to man. A confused mass was rapidly bearing up the valley, toward them.
“No, that’s all right. They’ve signaled. They’re Crows, with a pony herd.”
So they were. As they wildly scampered past, driving off their spoils, Indian-fashion, voices hailed them, inquiring where was Reno, where was Custer. One of the Crows waved his hand at the bluff.
“Right oblique, trot—march!” ordered Captain Benteen. And for the bluff they made.
The men upon the bluff proved to be Major Reno and his battalion. They were dismounted, and were firing at long range down the slopes. The fighting below had been by the rear guard, in the retreat to the bluff. Major Reno wore a handkerchief tied about his head. Ned thought that he had been wounded, but he had only lost his hat. He had lost his revolver, too. He greeted Major Benteen feverishly.