l62 



HORSE, FOOT, AND DRAGOONS. 



fires melting into the air above. Very gradually the light 

 fades, gray shadows are stealing over the prairie, where the 

 great herd of Agency cattle is slowly moving ; the platforms 

 on which the red -skins deposit the bodies of their dead stand 

 out on the mounds black against the sky, and the weird, sob- 

 bing wail of mourn- 

 ing women strikes 

 discordantly on our 

 ears. Lights begin 

 to twinkle in the 

 barracks, and, ring- 

 is out clear and 



7-^-f^t^ 



mellow, the bu- 

 gle is sounding 



"first call" for 

 tattoo. 



A day or two pass 

 quietly and uneventfully. 

 We visit the range, and 

 waste some ammunition at the big targets with the men, and 

 sometimes, the regular practice over, some of the ladies — no 

 mean shots — join us at the '' butts." We roam about the 

 village and Agency, and scrape acquaintance with many of our 



FAIR SHARP-SHOOTERS. 



