"I am Dick Howard," replied Dick, standing up as straight as his weakness would let him, "and this is my brother Albert. We were with an emigrant trail, all the rest of which was massacred two years ago by the Sioux. Since then we have been in the mountains, hunting and trapping."
The lieutenant looked at him suspiciously. Dick still stood erect and returned his gaze, but Albert, overpowered by fatigue, was leaning against the earthwork. A half dozen soldiers stood near, watching them curiously. From the woods toward the river came the sound of more rifle shots.
"Where have you come from to-night? And how?" asked the lieutenant sharply.
"We escaped from the Sioux village," replied Dick. "I was in one part of it and my brother in another. We met by chance or luck in the night, but in the afternoon I saw all the battle in which the army was destroyed."
"Army destroyed! What do you mean?" exclaimed the officer.
"We were repulsed, but we are here. We are not destroyed."
The suspicion in his look deepened, but Dick met him with unwavering eye.
"It was on the other side of the town," he replied. "Another army was there. It was surrounded by thousands of Sioux, but it perished to the last man. I saw them gallop into the valley, led by a general with long yellow hair."
"Custer!" exclaimed some one, and a deep groan came from the men in the dusk.
"What nonsense is this!" exclaimed the officer. "Do you dare tell me that Custer and his entire command have perished?"
Dick felt his resentment rising.