Passing over the crown of the bluffs, the cavalry rushed down toward where the Little Big Horn ran noisily over its bed. Indians seemed as thick as blackberries on a July day. From every bush and rock they made their appearance, ugly-looking and determined on mischief. All the way down to the level bank of the river men kept dropping, and with them horses, but in spite of it all the brave squad kept straight on. Just at this moment a new form appeared among the blue coats. Where he came from no one had the slightest idea, not even keen-eyed Pandy himself. The first the ranger knew of it, he saw some one mounted on a white horse dash by him, and a boy dressed in the becoming suit of a hunter drew rein beside the yellow-haired chief. Custer turned his head for the first time since changing the course of his troop, and his face expressed evident displeasure when he saw the boy. "Mason, boy, you here?" the officer ejaculated. The young fellow did not seem to pay any heed to the dismay that was plainly perceptible in the tones of the general. "General," he almost shouted, putting out a hand to seize Custer's bridle, but which was impatiently put away by him, "to go forward is impossible. They are ten to your one." "To retreat is also impossible, even if we wished it," said Custer, grimly. It was indeed so; the command could never scale the bluffs again in the face of those defending them. Again the boy appealed. "General, the whole river bank is a mass of reds. It is a trap, an ambuscade. Turn back, or halt, if you value your life," he exclaimed. Several of the officers were waiting for a reply; but Custer, firm and brave to the last, did not hesitate in his course. He realized that a terrible error had been committed in dividing his troop; but he possessed the spirit to persist in his former plan, hoping to come out all right in the end. His fellow officers saw the lips pressed firmly together. Then came the one word: "Forward!" The foot of the bluffs was reached, and then the truth of the boy's assertion became manifest. Another moment, and the gallant command was completely surrounded by a struggling, yelling mass of Indians, many of whom were mounted. Then commenced the deadliest fight that has ever been known to take place on the plains. All the attendant noises of a great battle, cannon excepted, could be found here. The Sioux seemed crazy with both anger and delight; and many a poor fellow, struggling hard in the midst of this sea of humanity, was actually pulled from his horse into the arms of death. There was no halt made at all. The command kept compactly together, using their weapons as best they could, but never thinking of retreating. On, on, was the cry; forward, the shout. Being prevented from fording the river by the overwhelming force, Custer and his men rode along the shore.