“You had better go to bed, Nomad; you’ve had a hard day,” said the general soothingly. “Who, me? Me had er hard day? An’ ther prospects o’ scrimmagin’ woul’n’t rest me! Guess you don’t know ole Nick purty good, do ye? Say, gin’ral, ’f I cyant go ’th that thar outfit I’ll lay erwake an’ holler all night, so’s yeow an’ nobody else cyant sleep, nohow.” The general laughed. “Well, go with Cody, if you expect to take it so much to heart.” “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. “Do you notice, to the north of the wagons, the Indians are doing everything to attract attention in that direction?” asked Buffalo Bill of a lieutenant at his side. “Well,” he continued, “I’ll bet a hundred to one they are massing to charge on the south side.” “What shall we do?” “Move down upon them quietly and get as near as possible, and then charge to the south of the wagons--make things hum.” “I wish we had a bugler and some rocks,” said the lieutenant. As if in answer to his request, Tootsie appeared at the withers of the officer’s horse. “Let me do the tooting, sir?” he asked. “What! you here?” exclaimed Buffalo Bill. “Yes; I knew you wouldn’t let me come if you knew, and so I sneaked. You’ll forgive me, won’t you, Mr. Cody?” “Yes, boy; get out your bugle and ride beside me. When I say the word sound the ‘charge,’ and then keep out of the way of the cavalry.”