While dragged the cold hours, some of the officers threw the capes of their cavalry greatcoats over their heads, and stretched upon the snow, slept. The general, having finished his inspection, did likewise. But the Osages did not sleep; neither did the men of the ranks, now collected closer in groups at their horses’ heads, to keep warm. The stag-hounds, Maida and Blucher, shivered and whined, and curled in a ball. Beyond, upon the crest of the ridge, an Osage and two of the officers were keeping keen watch upon the unconscious village below. Ned dozed; when he awakened, stiff and shivering, the moon had set, all was pitchy dark, except that far in the east just a tinge of grayness signaled the approach of dawn. Somebody near Ned stirred, and struck a match. It was the general, who looked at his watch. The flickering light revealed his anxious face and moustache rimmed with frost. He stood, and bending over another sleeping form he said, low and earnest: “Moylan! Moylan!” “Yes, sir.” And the adjutant also sat up, to yawn, and spring to his feet. “It’s time we were forming. Wake the officers,” continued the general. “Is that you, trumpeter?” “Yes, sir,” answered Ned. “You may help us. When you come to Colonel Myers, either of you, give him my compliments and tell him to move his command out at once and take position.” “Yes, sir.” Many of the officers already were awake, waiting, peering, listening. All around up-towered dim figures, and cautious voices spoke in undertones. Faint jingle sounded, as the horses stirred at movement of their guardians. Presently into the darkness filed away Colonel Myers’ column, to take position further along on the right. The troopers of the center column were not yet mounted; the companies in column of fours bided the time when the light from the east should be stronger. Ned, beside his horse, quivered with cold and excitement mingled. All before was grim and silent; the ridge, snowy and blotched with brush, lay against the sky-line to the south; beyond the ridge was the fated village. Not even a dog barked. Suddenly through the columns of fours ran a murmur. Into the velvet black sky over the ridge soared slowly and stately a fire signal, of yellow glow. Instantly through Ned’s mind surged the thought that the village was alarmed, Major Elliot or Colonel Thompson had been detected, and this was a flaming arrow to spread the news adown the valley. Next would come the volleys, the shouts, and the shrieks. “A rocket! A signal rocket!” ejaculated somebody. “How long it hangs fire! Why doesn’t it burst?” wondered Adjutant Moylan, impatient. Up, and up, and up, in course majestic, it floated higher, changing from yellow to red, and from red to blue, and from blue to lemon. The columns watched, breathless, eye and ear set for the downward curve or the explosion. The general spoke, in tone glad. “It’s a star.” “Oh!” sighed officer and men, relaxed, as passed the word.