“Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!” for the third time roared the carbines. “Hooray! Yah! Yah!” cheered loudly the soldiers. With answering cheer up raced at full speed the support of Captain Moylan. Breathing hard, his eyes blazing blue from his red burned face, the general also was arrived and eager. “Prepare to fight on foot!” shouted Captain Moylan. The Sioux were many; the soldiers few; but with the horses protected by a semi-circle of skirmishers they steadily fell back to the grove of the noonday nap. Yet even here matters might have gone hard—for these Sioux were determined fighters—had not appeared, coming on with cheers and guidons flying, four more companies of the Seventh, sent ahead by the wise General Stanley. And the Sioux galloped away. The companies brought bad news. That morning, after the general had left, along the line of march had been found the lifeless bodies of Dr. Honzinger and Mr. Baliran, pierced by ball and by arrow. The two cronies had wandered, as customary, and must have been two miles from help when Indians—Sioux, of course—had struck them down. Two soldiers also were killed, and another battle was fought—a longer, harder battle—with more Sioux, up the Yellowstone, before, the last week in September, the Seventh returned again to barracks. These were new barracks, the post of Fort Abraham Lincoln, built this summer and fall beside the Missouri, above Fort Rice and opposite the town of Bismarck which was the end of the railroad. Fort Abraham Lincoln belonged to the Seventh Cavalry. It was their headquarters post, housing six companies. The four other companies on Dakota duty were stationed at Fort Rice. ’Twas rather dull being a soldier at Fort Lincoln, or Rice either, in the long, snowy, below-zero winter. No trains came into Bismarck; mail and supplies must arrive by horse and sleigh. There was little mounted drill for the soldiers, and the men moved about well muffled in fur caps and buffalo-hide shoes and mittens. Out near the agencies the friendly Sioux gathered, waiting till spring; and further in the reservation had gathered in their villages the unfriendly Sioux, under Sitting Bull the medicine chief. But who was friendly and who was unfriendly could not be told; so that nobody in the post was permitted to wander beyond rifle shot, except on business. The Arikara or Ree scouts and their families were camped at the edge of Fort Lincoln. Bloody Knife the chief scout was the general’s favorite. The best white scout at Fort Lincoln was “Lonesome” Charley Reynolds. He had long-lashed, dark-blue eyes, and small, fine features. He was quieter than even Will Comstock; and rarely spoke unless spoken to. He did not look like a scout or act like a scout, yet he was one of the bravest men of the West.