So it happened that late that afternoon, with Farron driving his load of
household goods; with brown-haired little Jessie lying sound asleep with
her head on his lap; with Sergeant Wells cantering easily alongside and
Ralph and Buford scouting a little distance ahead, the two-horse wagon
rolled over the crest of the last divide and came just at sunset in
sight of the beautiful valley with the odd name of Chugwater.

Farther up the stream towards its sources among the pine-crested Black
Hills, there were many places where the busy beavers had dammed its
flow. The Indians, bent on trapping these wary creatures, had listened
in the stillness of the solitudes to the battering of those wonderful
tails upon the mud walls of their dams and forts, and had named the
little river after its most marked characteristic, the constant "_chug,
chug_" of those cricket-bat caudals.

On the west of the winding stream, in the smiling valley with tiny
patches of verdure, lay the ranch with its out-buildings, corrals, and
the peacefully browsing stock around it, and little Jessie woke at her
father's joyous shout and pointed out her home to Ralph.

There where the trail wound away from the main road the wagon and
horsemen must separate, and Ralph reined close alongside and took Jessie
in his arms and was hugged tight as he kissed her bonny face. Then he
and the sergeant shook hands heartily with Farron, set spurs to their
horses, and went loping down northeastward to the broader reaches of the
valley.

On their right, across the lowlands, ran the long ridge ending in an
abrupt precipice, that was the scene of the great buffalo-killing by the
Indians many a long year ago. Straight ahead were the stage station, the
forage sheds, and the half dozen buildings of Phillips's. All was as
placid and peaceful in the soft evening light as if no hostile Indian
had ever existed.

Yet there were to be seen signs of preparation for Indian attack. The
herder whom the travellers met two miles south of the station was
heavily armed and his mate was only short rifle-shot away. The men waved
their hats to Ralph and his soldier comrade, and one of them called out,
"Whar'd ye leave the cavalry?" and seemed disappointed to hear they were
as far back as Lodge Pole.

At the station, they found the ranchmen prepared for their coming and
glad to see them. Captain McCrea had telegraphed twice during the
afternoon and seemed anxious to know of their arrival.