CHAPTER VIII
GENERAL DODGE SHOWS THE WAY
“Come on. Let’s see the fun!” excitedly cried young Mr. Duff, to Terry. “Maybe we can take a hand.”
“Yes—an’ mebbe you’ll lose yore hair,” Jim Bridger reproved.
“What do you say, General Rawlins? Shall we go over?” General Dodge queried—in tone about as eager as Mr. Duff’s. “We can show you Indian fighting——”
“General Augur commands, here, I believe. We’re in his department. If he thinks best——”
General Augur immediately barked a gruff command. The lieutenant in charge of the escort company shouted gladly. The company were already at attention, ready.
“By fours, march! Column right, march! Comp’ny, trot!” And—— “Gallop!”
Away they dashed: The cavalry, old Jim Bridger (who rode like an Indian, his long hair streaming from under his greasy slouch hat), General Dodge, General Rawlins, General Augur, General Myers, Colonel Mizner, Major Dunn, young Mr. Duff, Mr. Corwith, Mr. Van Lennep the geologist, Sol, Terry, and all.
“The yaller legs are thar,” called Jim. For the bugle had shrilled again, from the two companies now out of sight; and the heavy reports of the cavalry carbines joined with the other battle sounds.
“Right front into line!” The cavalry escort spread into company front; but as they charged into sight of the field, the gun-shots had become fitful and scattered. From the last little rise they saw what had occurred.