But Guy did not sit there long. The noise of the fight came plainly to his ears, and every exultant yell of a Sioux, that now and then rose loud and clear above the tumult, was almost as bad as torture to himself. Again and again he signaled to the Fort, "Our men are being overpowered. Fetterman needs re-enforcements," but no response came. They could see the men standing idly by leaning on their guns, but no attempt was made to send support to them.
"I almost wish that Colonel Carrington were out there," said Guy, for the sense of responsibility that rested upon him was almost too great for him to bear. "Have I done what I could, Sergeant? I would go myself, if he would let me!"
The men all joined in with the Sergeant in assuring him that no officer, situated as he was up there in the picket tower, could have done more than Guy did to stop the massacre, and he was forced to be satisfied with this. He sat there and watched, but was powerless to do anything. Now and then signals came from the Fort, "How goes the battle now?" and Guy's answer was always the same: "The Indians are whipping our men completely out. Fetterman needs re-enforcements"; but that was the last of it. In much less than half an hour it was all over. Then he sprang up and caught the flag again:
"All killed. Field covered by more than one thousand Sioux."
Guy felt while sending this signal, as if he had signed his own death warrant. He tossed the flag upon the floor, seated himself on his block of wood again and covered his face with his hands. Perkins, Arthur Brigham—O Lord, they were all gone! He thought of the many acts of kindness which the boys had lavished upon him, and his feelings were too great for utterance. Sobs which he could not repress shook his frame all over.
"There is something else that wants signaling too," said the Sergeant. "The wood train is coming."
Guy jumped to his feet, and looked out over the field again. There was nothing but Sioux in sight, and they were running as if anxious to get away from the leaden hail that was rained upon them. Guy seized the flag and this went to the Fort:—
"Wood train coming, having beaten off assailants."
As Guy turned to look at the wagon train, he saw to his immense relief the long line of ladened wagons at the foot of the ridge. As it passed the battlefield Guy, repeating the signal made from the Fort, warned it not to attack, and it did not. A frightened lot of teamsters and soldiers went by him after a while, but where was Guy's salute this time? He did not make any, but stood leaning on the top of the tower and silently regarded them as they went by.
"It is all over," he said, mournfully. "I said this morning that there would not be so many of us left in our room to-night, and this proves it. I am alone and have not even a squad of men to command."