. The master of the strong hearts : a story of Custer's last rally . suffering was from thirst. Water wasin sight, but not to be obtained, for the approachto the river was commanded by the besiegers. Oh, how thirsty Jack Huntingdon was! Howthirsty were all those poor fellows in the rifle-pits \Pebbles, grass roots, dry crumbs of bread, potatoes—no such substitutes could bring the relief that theblessed water could afford, though all were must have water, Captain, came the , how 11 you get it ? asked the captain. Who 11 go ? Who 11 volunteer ? I 11 go! So will I! I! Me too! I!
. The master of the strong hearts : a story of Custer's last rally . suffering was from thirst. Water wasin sight, but not to be obtained, for the approachto the river was commanded by the besiegers. Oh, how thirsty Jack Huntingdon was! Howthirsty were all those poor fellows in the rifle-pits \Pebbles, grass roots, dry crumbs of bread, potatoes—no such substitutes could bring the relief that theblessed water could afford, though all were must have water, Captain, came the , how 11 you get it ? asked the captain. Who 11 go ? Who 11 volunteer ? I 11 go! So will I! I! Me too! I! —came the instant reply, and Jack Hunting-dons voice was as loud as any. Camp-kettles were distributed. Under the coverof Benteens guns the water-party worked their waytoward the river as far as possible. Then came therisk. Now! ready \ go ! came the command, and witha mad rush the kettle corps dashed into thewater, filled the kettles, and rushed back to the coverof the guns, while from copse and bluff the watchfulIndians sought to pick the brave fellows Si O0 a s H « s H WHERE IS CUSTER? 255 Several of the kettle corps were wounded, but none were killed. Three times was the dash for water made, and each time Jack was one of the rush-line/ and returned with a full kettle and without a scratch. All the effect of my white weasels tail, hedecla/ed, laughingly, when the men patted him onthe back and cried, Good boy, Jack! So the day dragged on and another night came,and still the Seventh was besieged in its rifle-pitsby the Indian host. And still would the query goup again and again, Where is Custer ? If theGeneral were here, he d get us through. So came at last Thursday morning, the twenty-seventh of June. With the daylight came reveilleand breakfast. The men were tired and where were the Indians ? Not one was to be seen. Cant we reconnoitre? queried Captain Mc-Dougall. 44 No, no; not yet, Major Reno replied. * Staywhere you are. They ve got some trap
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