The utter annihilation of Custer's devoted command had actually appalled him, and put him in the gloomiest state possible.
It was perhaps the fearful fact that not one in that gallant band came out to tell the tale, that worked so on his feelings.
Had some escaped, the affair would have lost some of that horrible fascination that proceeded from the fact that every one, officers and men alike, had been swept into eternity, just as surely as if an earthquake had swallowed them.
Eagle Eye, the Crow chief, had promised to send some of his men with the news to Terry; at least his silence had been the same as an acquiescence, and this finished his obligations toward the ill-fated Colonel Yates.
The sound of firing in the advance told Pandy that Major Reno was actively engaged on the bluffs, and aroused by the thought that there was hot work yet before him, he urged Nancy forward. As night closed about him, it could not but be conducive of gloomy thoughts, for the darkness appeared to communicate itself to the mind in some way or other, keeping brighter ideas at bay.
As he advanced, carefully now, as the way was rough and unfamiliar, the sounds in front grew clearer until the old ranger knew that he was drawing near the scene of action.
It would be impossible to join Reno on horseback, if the position of the troops was as bad as he suspected, and the next thing for him to do, would be to hide Nancy in some place where he could find her again, but no one else.
Such a spot he was not long in ferreting out, and after securing the horse by means of his lariat, Pandy moved forward once more.
Louder came the detonation from guns and shouts from dusky throats, threatening everything that was terrible to the remnant of the gallant Seventh; and yet their answering yells and shots proved the young fellows to be undaunted by the fate that seemed staring them in the face.
Pandy stood and listened, on the brow of an eminence, striving to pierce the gloom ahead with those eagle-like eyes.