That inspiring tune to which had charged the Custer Third Brigade in the War, and which was now adopted by the Seventh Cavalry.
So, having been by Odell pronounced a “credit to the regiment,” Ned felt himself a soldier and ready with the other soldiers.
[III]
THE SEVENTH TAKES THE FIELD
“It’s like this,” said Odell, after mess. “We’re bound to go. Those ’Rapahos and Cheyennes and Kiowas and ’Paches and Sioux out yon are ready to act mean again, and the army’ll have to calm ’em down. By their treaty o’ Sixty-foive didn’t they promise to keep away from the overland trails, and not camp by day or by night within ten miles o’ any of ’em, or visit any white settlement without permission beforehand? And what did they do? Only last summer they went on their murtherin’ raids, time after time, and the treaty not a year old yet. Didn’t they kill and rob right and lift through the settlements o’ the Saline and the Solomon, jist west o’ here, drivin’ the farmers out? And haven’t they been botherin’ the stage road up along the Smoky, and the southwest travel by the Santy Fee Trail, and threatenin’ the railroad advance?”
“They blame it on old Cut Nose and Pawnee Killer’s band of Dog Soldiers,” spoke somebody. “Those Dog Soldiers weren’t there to sign the treaty, and they say they aren’t bound by it.”
“Who are those Dog Soldiers, except the worst rascals out of all the tribes?” grunted Sergeant Henderson, who had fought Indians before the Sixties. “I know ’em.”
“Well, this country belonged to the Indians, first, didn’t it?” pursued a recruit. “We’re crossing it without asking ‘by your leave,’ and we’re settling in the midst of it and taking all we can get. I hear buffalo are scarcer than they used to be, too, since the whites opened up the country. That’s what the Indians depend on for a living—the buffalo.”