"Attention, D Troop!" It was Weir's voice, eager and determined now.

Like an undammed current his orders rang out above the uproar, and in a

moment the gallant troopers of N and D, some on foot, some in saddle,

were rushing up the face of the bluff, their officers leading, the

precious ammunition packs at the centre, all alike scrambling for the

summit, in spite of the crackling of Indian rifles from every side.

Foot by foot they fought their way forward, sliding and stumbling,

until the little blue wave burst out against the sky-line and sent an

exultant cheer back to those below. Panting, breathless from the hard

climb, their carbines spitting fire while the rapidly massing savages

began circling their exposed position, the little band fought their way

forward a hundred yards. Then they halted, blocked by the numbers

barring their path, glancing back anxiously in hope that their effort

would encourage others to join them. They could do it; they could do

it if only the rest of the boys would come. They poured in their

volleys and waited. But Reno made no move. Weir and Brant, determined

to hold every inch thus gained, threw the dismounted men on their faces

behind every projection of earth, and encircled the ridge with flame.

If they could not advance, they would not be driven back. They were

high up now, where they could overlook the numerous ridges and valleys

far around; and yonder, perhaps two miles away, they could perceive

vast bodies of mounted Indians, while the distant sound of heavy firing

was borne faintly to their ears. It was vengeful savages shooting into

the bodies of the dead, but that they did not know. Messenger after

messenger, taking life in hand, was sent skurrying down the bluff, to

beg reinforcements to push on for the rescue, swearing it was possible.

But it was after five o'clock before Reno moved. Then cautiously he

advanced his column toward where N and D Troops yet held desperately to

the exposed ridge. He came too late. That distant firing had ceased,

and all need for further advance had ended. Already vast forces of

Indians, flushed with victory and waving bloody scalps, were sweeping

back across the ridges to attack in force. Scarcely had reinforcements

attained the summit before the torrent of savagery burst screeching on

their front.

From point to point the grim struggle raged, till nightfall wrought

partial cessation. The wearied troopers stretched out their lines so

as to protect the packs and the field hospital, threw themselves on the

ground, digging rifle-pits with knives and tin pans. Not until nine

o'clock did the Indian fire slacken, and then the village became a

scene of savage revel, the wild yelling plainly audible to the soldiers

above. Through the black night Brant stepped carefully across the

recumbent forms of his men, and made his way to the field hospital. In

the glare of the single fire the red sear of a bullet showed clearly

across his forehead, but he wiped away the slowly trickling blood, and

bent over a form extended on a blanket.




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