“Say night, rather, lieutenant, for I’ve been resting by daylight.”
Going to a point which commanded a view of the other shore, Buffalo Bill ran his glass over it and said:
“Sergeant, when I reconnoitered, the camp was in those willows.”
“Yes, that is it; and the ponies are corralled over beyond them.”
“I’ll see if I can put a shell there,” and the officer in charge of the guns sighted one himself, a sergeant training the other.
“Fire!”
The six and twelve-pounders flashed together, and shells went shrieking across the river.
One burst directly in the willows, the other beyond, where the sergeant had said the horses were.
There was a neighing of horses, several ponies dashed into view, and it was certain that the shells had been a startling surprise to the redskins in camp.