But I am coming back, Naida, little woman; coming back to love and you." An hour later N Troop trotted across the rude bridge, and circled the bluff, on its way toward the wide plains.

Brant, riding ahead of his men, caught a glimpse of something white fluttering from an open window of the yellow house fronting the road.

Instantly he whipped off his campaign hat, and bowing to the saddle pommel, rode bareheaded out of sight.

And from behind the curtain Naida watched the last horseman round the bluff angle, riding cheerfully away to hardship, danger, and death, her eyes dry and despairing, her heart scarcely beating.

Then she crept across the narrow room, and buried her face in the coverlet of the bed.
_PART III_ ON THE LITTLE BIG HORN.