Once Ned caught a glimpse of the general, when in the spring of 1872, the general was returning from a big buffalo hunt on the plains with the Grand Duke Alexis of Russia. Custer had been assigned as his escort, by General Sheridan. Buffalo Bill had been the guide. The hunt was a great success, and the Grand Duke was much pleased. Another year passed—and suddenly spread the news that the Seventh Cavalry were once more to take the field. They were ordered to assemble and as a regiment together to proceed to Fort Rice, among the Sioux of Dakota Territory. That news was enough for Ned. It set his blood to tingling, it set his thoughts to dancing, it filled his eyes with pictures of camp and of march and of an alert, lithe, soldierly figure whose keen blue eyes and long yellow hair and clarion voice no boy ever could forget, any more than he could forget the cavalry guidons waving in the charge. Ned re-enlisted, with request that he be assigned again to the Seventh. And as he was a “veteran,” and as the Seventh needed more men, for field service, he was ordered to report to his regiment at Omaha. There, the middle of March, with a few genuine recruits he was waiting at the station when in pulled the first section of the long train which bore the famous Seventh Cavalry, en route from the States to the best-beloved frontier. Out from the cars boiled the blue blouses and the yellow stripes! There was the general—first, as usual. He was wearing the regulation fatigue uniform, instead of buckskin; he had cut his hair; he seemed whiter than when on the plains: but he was the same quick, bold, active spirit. And there was Mrs. Custer, with other ladies. And there was “Queen’s Own” Cook—and Lieutenant Tom—and Captain Benteen—and all the old officers, and several new ones. And there, poking out of the car windows and thrust from the steps, were familiar faces and forms of comrades. Ned must report to the adjutant, who proved to be Lieutenant Calhoun. Then might he be greeted by friends. He even had the pleasure of saluting the general, and having his hand shaken while the general, and Mrs. Custer, asked about himself and about Mary, and said that they were glad to have him back again. Finally he found Odell, who was in the band; and from Odell might he receive all the news. “No more chasin’ moonshiners and playin’ policeman for the Sivinth, b’gorry,” declared Odell. “You were well out of it, me boy; an’ now you’ve joined us jist in time. As soon as we get to Yankton of Dakota, which be the end o’ the railroad, then ’tis ‘Boots and Saddles’ once more in earnest, with a six hundred mile march ahead of us. Faith, won’t it seem good! An’ ’tis what we’re all nadin’. We’re soft.” “Wonder what we’ll do up in Dakota,” invited Ned, bluffly. “Scout around and watch the Sioux?”