“Scalped and burned,” said Wild Bill.
Nobody else spoke a word. He and the general and the lieutenant sombrely gazed. The doctor joined, horrified. The Delawares looked from face to face, and waited. Ned stared, and choked.
“The station gang, three of ’em,” announced Wild Bill. “Delawares say they were staked down, alive. You can guess the rest.”
“Are there any signs who did it—what Indians?” demanded General Custer, sternly.
Fall Leaf, who spoke English, shook his head.
“No arrow, no moccasin, nothin’,” he grunted. “Come quick; capture men; scalp, burn, go. Mebbe Cheyenne, mebbe Sioux. Make trail,” and he pointed northward.
There was nothing to do but to bury by the stage road the poor mangled fragments. And at dusk the command rode into Fort Hays, fifteen miles.