To Hamlin, at Custer's side, reins in his teeth, a revolver in either hand, what followed was scarcely a memory.

It remained afterward as a blurred, indistinct picture of action, changing so rapidly as to leave no definite outlines.

He heard the answering call of three bugles; the deafening thud of horses' hoofs; the converging cheers of excited troopers; the mingling ring of revolver shots; a sharp order cleaving the turmoil; the wild neigh of a stricken horse; the guttural yells of Indians leaping from their tepees into the open.

Then he was in the heart of the village, firing with both hands; before him, about him, half-naked savages fighting desperately, striking at him with knives, firing from the shelter of tepees, springing at him with naked hands in a fierce effort to drag him from the saddle.

It was all confusion, chaos, a babble of noise, his eyes blinded by glint of steel and glare of fire.