Captain Meinhold was on old Indian campaigner, and his lieutenant, a gallant young fellow named Lawson, although much younger in the service, took to the work naturally.  
They were fortunate in having all the essentials of a good troop. They had good horses, well seen to and in fine order. Next, they had good men, well disciplined, who liked their officers, and consequently were ready to endure hardship and extra duty without murmuring.
 
No company, therefore, was better prepared than Company B of the Third Cavalry to make a good record whenever it had a chance.
 
Pushing on by night as well as by day, and taking only such time to rest and feed as was actually necessary, even Steve Hathaway himself—an old “Overlander” who was used to getting through at all costs, even if the stock went under in doing it—was satisfied with the progress made by the soldiers.
 
On the third day out from the fort they had news from Buffalo Bill, for the scouts he had promised to send back met them, and now the order to “hurry up” did not require to be repeated.
 
Feeling almost certain that an Indian fight was before them, the seasoned troopers were as keen as war horses who snuff the smoke of gunpowder. There was no hanging back on the part of any one of them.
 
Taking a route described to them so minutely by the scouts that Hathaway, with his experience, knew exactly where Buffalo Bill must be, they pushed on at the top of their speed. Steve told Captain Meinhold that they would see the tracks of Buffalo Bill and his party, if nothing more, inside of twenty hours.
 
“We must do that—or else stop to hunt,” replied the officer. “Our rations are all out.”
 
“Men who can’t go twenty hours without eating have got no business to come on the great plains at all,” responded the tough old scout, who was himself thoroughly familiar with all the hardships of Western life.
 
The course now lay directly over the almost boundless plains, with no water except some half-stagnant pools met with now and then in a buffalo wallow, and it was a weary journey for both men and horses. But toward night the blue of the hills once more greeted their eyes, and when at last the grateful evening air, cool and pleasant, came to them, the hills were in full view.
 
A short halt at sunset by some poor water and yet poorer grass gave the animals and men a brief rest, and then the forced march was resumed, not to be broken by any ordinary circumstances until the hills and good water were reached.
 
This occurred after a long night ride, just at dawn, and the two hunter scouts, riding ahead, had the good luck to come upon a herd of elk in the mouth of the pass which first opened up before them.
 
Three of the animals were shot down before they could get out of range, so that meat was plentiful for the soldiers when they made their morning halt. The grass was good, too, and both men and horses had a good chance to recuperate after their hard travel.
 
The two scouts, after a brief rest, taking from Steve Hathaway the course he meant to tr............