enemy and should escape he would have little to report. The
expedition was as yet undetected.

Some dark object was dimly discernible at the man's feet; the
officer could not make it out. With the instinct of the true
cavalryman and a particular indisposition to the discharge of
firearms, he drew his saber. The man on foot made no movement in
answer to the challenge. The situation was tense and a bit
dramatic. Suddenly the moon burst through a rift in the clouds and,
himself in the shadow of a group of great oaks, the horseman saw the
footman clearly, in a patch of white light. It was Trooper Dunning,
unarmed and bareheaded. The object at his feet resolved itself into
a dead horse, and at a right angle across the animal's neck lay a
dead man, face upward in the moonlight.

"Dunning has had the fight of his life," thought the major, and was
about to ride forward. Dunning raised his hand, motioning him back
with a gesture of warning; then, lowering the arm, he pointed to the
place where the road lost itself in the blackness of the cedar
forest.

The major understood, and turning his horse rode back to the little
group that had followed him and was already moving to the rear in
fear of his displeasure, and so returned to the head of his command.

"Dunning is just ahead there," he said to the captain of his leading
company. "He has killed his man and will have something to report."

Right patiently they waited, sabers drawn, but Dunning did not come.
In an hour the day broke and the whole force moved cautiously