March passed. Already the army further west, in Wyoming where the snows were not so deep, had fought one battle with the Sioux. On March 17, or Saint Patrick’s Day, the Second and the Third Cavalry out of Fort Fetterman, under General J. J. Reynolds, sent by General Crook the “Gray Fox,” had attacked Crazy Horse’s village at the mouth of the Little Powder River and had destroyed it. But the Indians had escaped, and had recovered their pony herd, too; so that in the opinion of the Seventh, the job could not compare with the fine job done down on the Washita. However, it was tough luck to be on waiting orders here at Lincoln, while the Second and the Third were busy at work. No matter, though. Thirty-below-zero weather turned the Fetterman troops home again. Crazy Horse, now crazier than ever, would join Sitting Bull; and there would be fighting enough for everybody. April arrived, and grew, and still no General Custer appeared. It was rumored that he had been held in Washington, because of his testimony that did not please President Grant; next it was rumored that he had been removed from command of the “Custer” column; and next it was rumored that he would not accompany the regiment at all! This was startling news to the Seventh. What would be a campaign without “Old Curly!” Now in these the days of chill April every soldier was on tiptoes with impatience. Custer or no Custer, the time was ripe for the march. Soon the grass would be greening, the Sioux would be able to travel, and the advantage would be all with them. Meanwhile, every report from the agencies was more alarming. The “friendlies” or “reservation Indians” were slipping, slipping, away, away, taking supplies and guns. “Down at Standing Rock I hear there’s only five thousand Injuns where there used to be seven thousand,” asserted Odell. “The rest have lit out, to ‘visit’ and to ‘hunt’; but you can depind on’t, ’tis to the Big Horn country they’re goin’.” The four troops of the Seventh from Fort Rice and the six from Fort Lincoln were moved out of barracks into camp, as a more convenient place for rendezvous. The infantry allies arrived, with a battery of gatlings; so did supplies, on the first trains. Bismarck City was alive with the excitement of the preparations. Bloody Knife the Arikara chief scout could not understand what had happened to the Long Hair. Ned watched him talking rapid sign language with Charley Reynolds; and afterward stalking away gloomy. “Bloody Knife asks why the Long Hair doesn’t come and lead his warriors out. Too much fuss and wait, he says. The Sioux laugh and brag; and send in word from the hills: ‘Are the white soldiers tired before they start?’ ‘What is the matter with the Long Hair?’ ‘Is the Long Hair sick?’ And so forth. I tell Bloody Knife we have another big chief, named Terry, to lead us; but he says: ‘No want Terry. Want Long Hair. Long Hair never tired, never afraid, heap chief.’”