"Send six of your men over to the south front, sergeant," were Ray's orders to Winsor, as he hurried over to join Clayton again. "They may try one final charge from that side, and give us a chance to empty a few more saddles." Creeping and crouching through the timber the chosen men obeyed, and were assigned to stations under Clayton's eye. The precaution was wise indeed, for, just as the captain foresaw, a rally in force began far out over the southward slopes, the Indians gathering in great numbers about some chieftain midway between the coming force and the still beleaguered defenders of the grove. Then, brandishing lance and shield and rifle, as before, they began spreading out across the prairie, heading now for the cottonwoods, while others still faced and fired on the far blue skirmish line. The fierce wind, sweeping across the direction of the attack, deadened all sound of hoof or war chant, but there was no mistaking the signs, no doubt of the intent, when, in a little moment more, the earth began to tremble beneath the dancing pony feet, telling, almost with the swiftness of sight, that the grand advance had again begun. But other eyes were watching too. Other soldiers, keen campaigners as these at the Elk, were there afield, and almost at the moment the wild barbaric horde burst yelling into their eager gallop, and before the dust cloud hid the distant slopes beyond, the exultant shout went up from the captain's lips, as he threw down his glass and grabbed his carbine. "It's all right, men! The major's coming at their heels. Now let 'em have it!" In former days there had been scenes of wild rejoicing, sometimes of deep emotion, when relief came to some Indian-besieged detachment of the old regiment. Once, far to the south in the wild, romantic park country of Colorado, a strong detachment had been corralled for days by an overwhelming force of Utes. Their commander,--a dozen of their best men,--all the horses killed and many troopers sorely wounded. They had been rescued at last by their skilled and gallant colonel, after a long and most scientific march by both night and day. Another time, still farther in their past, and yet within a dozen years, away down the broad valley of the very stream of which this little Elk was a tributary, the Cheyennes had hemmed in and sorely hammered two depleted troops that owed their ultimate rescue to the daring of the very officer who so coolly, confidently headed the defence this day--to a night ride through the Indian lines that nearly cost him his brave young life, but that brought Captain Truscott with a fresh and powerful troop sweeping in to their succor with the dawn. Then there had been men who strained other men to their hearts and who shed tears like women, for gallant comrades had bitten the dust in the desperate fighting of the day before, and hope itself had almost gone--with the ammunition of the beleaguered command.