The air was thick with rank odor of decaying flesh. General Custer and his staff turned aside, following the scouts, to search for the source. It might be only dead buffalo; but probably it was——? The brush and grass were high; at the edge Ned halted; he would let the others enter; he was a soldier, but he would rather stay where he had stopped. They did not require him; of course they didn’t. The Delawares, and Will Comstock, and the officers, rode back and forth. It was only after a long time that, on a sudden, General Jackson, Fall Leaf’s nephew, gave a loud shout; and instantly he was off his horse and stooping. He had found something. The general and all the officers and scouts hastened to him. The general beckoned for the men to come. Even Ned pushed forward; he could not help himself, for he feared to see and yet he wanted to see. There they lay, all, white horses and white men and one red man; what was left of them after the enemy had taken vengeance. It was not a peaceful sight, for the bodies bristled with arrows, shot in and left, and knife and tomahawk had cruelly gashed. But there were many empty cartridge shells, showing that Lieutenant Kidder and his little command had fought desperately and bravely. “Surrounded an’ cut off. I knowed they’d be,” declared Comstock. “The Injuns got here fust, like as not. Sioux. Know why? ’Cause while they scalped Red Bead they didn’t take his scalp away. There ’tis, lying beside him. It’s agin Injun rules to bear off scalp of one of their own tribe. So these must have been Sioux, same as Red Bead. Pawnee Killer’s band, like as not.” That terrible Pawnee Killer! “Which is the lieutenant, I wonder?” mused the general. “Have you found any marks that tell, Comstock?” “Not a one. No, sir; I doubt if even his own mother could pick him out.” That was so. Only Red Bead could be recognized. All the others were stripped of their clothing, and were so hacked about the face that scarcely a feature was left. Fall Leaf the Delaware bent and pointed at something. It was a black-and-white checked collar-band still encircling a neck. That was all. After a mournful shuddering survey of the bloody field, the soldiers of the Seventh could only dig a trench and gently place therein these remains of young officer, his brave men, and his faithful Sioux guide. XI GRIM DAYS ALONG THE TRAIL