“Yes, if Tom isn’t in the same fix. Country is full of Indians, I believe.”
Two of the five miles had been put behind. It was scarce to be expected that carbine shots could yet be heard; but nevertheless the silence seemed ominous, as if the battle might be over; and with victory to which side?
Trot, trot; jingle, jingle; across the grassy plain, with every man leaning forward in his saddle, as if to get there sooner. Then Fall Leaf, the Delaware, signaled back, from a little rise: “People in sight.” The general and Adjutant Moylan clapped their glasses to their eyes, and forthwith the general threw up his gauntleted hand in gesture of relief.
“There they come,” he said. “Good! I see the troop guidon.”
Captain Hamilton’s troop it was, with all the men uninjured, and with only one horse wounded. Captain Hamilton reported that he had killed two warriors and had driven the other Indians away, without any assistance from Lieutenant Tom Custer. Lieutenant Tom had pursued the second knot of Indians, until after they had drawn him far enough they had given him the slip. These Sioux were clever.
Blood had been shed. This was war. The Indians now would be hot for revenge. And Major Elliot was still out, and so was the wagon train for Fort Wallace. Returning with the wagon-train would come Mrs. Custer. That was now the main thought in the camp. The Indians surely would not miss a chance at such a prize as wagons of supplies. Why had the general been so foolish as to send for Mrs. Custer, when it was well known that Indians were abroad?
The general grew haggard all in an hour. Before night he had sent a squadron under command of Major (who was a lieutenant-colonel) Myers, to push right through and meet the train.
Then there was nothing to do but to wait. Three days passed, and in rode the little party of Major Elliot, with the dispatches from Fort Sedgwick. On the next day, hurrah! Here approached, weaving across the plain like a huge snake, the white-topped army wagons and the escort troops.
Out rode the general, to meet them; and particularly to meet Mrs. Custer. The wagons all were there—twenty of them; the column of troops looked intact; but from the wagons or from horse no handkerchief waved greeting, and Ned, on Buckie thudding along behind the general, felt a sudden cold chill. What if anything had happened to the sweet Mrs. Custer, or to Diana of the dancing curls?
Major (who was also colonel) West was in command of the column, for he was the senior officer.