It was late in the afternoon of the 26th of June, that keen-eyed Pandy Ellis discovered that the Indians' village had vanished, so far as lodges and people were concerned.
This gave him grounds for hope, which feeling was soon communicated to the rest of the devoted band.
It was evident that Terry or else Gibbon, perhaps, had arrived, and that the Indians were ready for retreat, although they intended holding Reno under their thumbs as long as possible.
Word must be sent, or by some oversight the remnant of the gallant Seventh might be left to perish on the field, and those rifle pits become their graves.
Pandy Ellis at once volunteered to accomplish this duty.
How he ever managed to dash through the redskins and live, will probably ever remain a mystery, but he did it.
A bullet touched his arm, three more cut his clothing, and, at the last instant, the cavalry horse he rode was shot from under him; but in spite of all this, the brave ranger carried the news to General Terry.
As the soldiers advanced the Indians retired, and the remnant of the Seventh Cavalry was saved.
Sleep seemed very sweet to those tired heroes that night; that much I can vouch for.