“Thar, thet’s more like yore usual ginerosity, gin’ral. I knowed ye’d do et, ef I put it up to yer right. When Pard Buffler goes anywhar I jest likes ter jog erlong, ’cause somethin’s bound ter hap’n.”
Nomad hurried away to saddle Hide-rack, but one of the officers insisted that the trapper take a fresh horse. Buffalo Bill, too, was given a splendid mount, and Cayuse, who could not be left behind, was provided with a good animal.
There were fifty-three men in the rescue expedition, with Buffalo Bill, ole Nomad, and Little Cayuse well in the lead to insure against ambush.
Two hours’ hard riding had shown no signs of a supply train, or of Hickok and the captain.
“We will ride for another hour, boys,” said the scout, “and then, if we discover nothing, turn back.”
But they had not ridden fifteen minutes farther when the quick ears of Little Cayuse detected the sound of firing.
The scout halted the line and listened. Distinctly now there came to their ears the sound of desultory firing, far to the southeast and beyond what must be quite heavy ridges.
“Look to your trappings and outfits, boys,” said the scout, “and be ready when we charge to carry all before us. Give ’em a good lesson this time, and chase them into the next county.”
The party took the last long rise easily, husbanding the strength of their horses, and when near the top paused for the animals to puff and to reconnoitre the situation.
But by the flashes of the guns and occasional attempts of the Indians to set the wagons afire by throwing blazing torches, the conditions were easily understood.