As the ranger was shaking himself to see that no material damage had befallen him through his recent struggle, the reports of several guns, followed by savage shouts, came from the bluffs across the river and further up. It proceeded from besieged Reno and his foes, but Bolly did not know this.
"Ah! sum o' ye over yonder I reckon. Wonder what became o' Custer, for it must hev been him, az no wun else'd rush inter danger like that. Sounds mighty bad; they hain't kerried the town, an' I'm afraid the yaller-haired chief hez either gone under or else had ter retreat, a thing I never knew him ter do, long az I've been acquainted—ha! what in blazes! Bolly Wherrit, down ye imp. Bess, silence now, old girl. Byes, do yer juty now, fur thar's sumpin' a comin' this way that needs lookin' arter."
The ranger sank out of sight as if he had been shot.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
RENO'S RIFLE-PITS ON THE RIVER BLUFFS.
The human mind differs so greatly with various individuals that what might be said of one person, proves exactly the opposite in another.
It has truly been remarked that one man's food is poison to another, and the same may be said of the capacity of their intellect.
Pandy Ellis, the veteran ranger of the wild West, whose days had been passed among scenes of danger from boyhood up to old age, was the possessor of an iron will and a stout heart.
He had witnessed, almost with composure, it might be said, scenes that would have made many a brave man turn pale and tremble; had passed through others, not unscratched either, when dear friends fell to rise no more, and yet had not been shocked.