“Well, let’s hear it.” The commanding officer of Easy Company sat down quickly in his swivel chair and looked at his adjutant and chief scout as he picked up the cold cigar butt from the ashtray and relighted it.
Matt nodded to Windy to speak first. “The herders started a brushfire to clear out some timber so they could drive the woollies through; saved them going around the long way.”
“Not on Sioux land, I hope.”
“On federal. No, they got it under control. They know what they’re doin’, as far as the fire is concerned. Only thing is, they’re moving right into that area where Cohoes has got his cattle coming up along the river. They are bound to meet, more sooner than later the way they’re both going.”
“It’ll be jolly when they meet,” said Conway. “But I can tell you’ve got more.”
This time the scout did not take his time, but spoke right out. “On the way back, me and Henry Walks Quickly almost run smack into a big war party.”
“Brules?” Matt asked, looking over at the scout.
“Brules. And Hunkpapas and Oglallas.”
“That does it,” said Conway, slapping the palm of his hand on the desktop.
“Sir,” Matt said, “they’ve already wiped out two of the ranches along the Potterville cutoff—Soames and Piper.”
“Bad?”
“As bad as it ever gets.”
Conway made a face. “Where were they, Windy?”
“Down near Horsehead Creek. Couldn’t tell if they were headed for the sheep, the cattle, or both—or for us here.”
“How many?”
“We figured a hundred and fifty. But there could be more. We didn’t hang around to take a tally.”
Matt grinned. “Sir, I’d like First and Second Platoon. We had better get right out there.”
“Taylor and Second Platoon are already alerted, Matt.” The captain leaned forward. “When I saw Windy ride in, and you right after, I wasn’t looking for good news. You’ll not have time to rest.”
“We don’t need it, Captain.”
Conway stood up. “We’ll be well covered here with myself, Fletcher, and Third Platoon.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You know the terrain. You’ll make your battle plan as you ride, I expect. Matt, you and Windy are the best we’ve got. Take care. That is an order.”
“Yes, sir.”
Windy winked. “I’m going to need a fresh mount, if the United States Army can spare one.”
“Consider it done,” Captain Conway said, and then, turning his head to the partly opened door, “Sergeant Cohen?”
“Yes, sir?” The first sergeant appeared in the doorway.
“Order up a good horse for Mr. Mandalian here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Want to try one of our McClellan saddles, Mr. Chief Scout?”
“I think too much of my balls, thank you. Captain.” And he walked out laughing.
150
Ben Cohen gave the order to Bradshaw, the company clerk. “Get it to the stables, and then send Golightly to me. Fast, Corporal.”
In a few minutes, Bradshaw was back with Billy Golightly.
“You asked to get into the field with your platoon, soldier. Here’s your opportunity. Git.”
“Gee, thanks, Sarge.” Billy was so flustered he whipped up a salute and spun on his heel.
“Goddammit, Golightly, I ought to bust your ass right now. I am not a officer. I am your first sergeant and you do not salute me. Goddammit!”
“Sorry, sir.. .1 mean. Sergeant!”
“Goddammit, Golightly, how old are you anyway?”
“Sarge, I’m twenty-two.”
“Bullshit. I’d say you were twenty-two months, if that. Now get your ass into that saddle —right now!”
As they rode out, the blue-and-white guidon fluttered at Matt Kincaid’s right, carried by Malone, solid and eager for battle, as always. Reb McBride rode at Kincaid’s left.
To the left of First Platoon, Mr. Taylor led the Second. His left-flank outriders were out of Kincaid’s view, while the First’s right-flankers were not visible to Taylor. Yet the two officers were able to send hand signals to each other, and so they managed to cover a much wider field than either could have done alone. Army regulations called for at least one-third of the company to be kept in reserve and holding the base of operations, and so they had not ridden out full strength.
As they topped a rise about two-thirds of the way to where Cohoes had last been seen with his cattle. Matt spotted Windy Mandalian talking to Henry Walks Quickly. Raising his hand to halt the outfit, Kincaid
151
turned to Gus Olsen and said, “Take over and rest, Sergeant.” Then he turned and spurred his mount forward, trotting up to join Windy and the Delaware scout.
“What’s up, Windy?”
“Henry’s found something on the feller we figure shot them two Brules.”
“Where?”
Walks Quickly nodded his head to Windy.
“He was say in’ he followed more of them tracks that me and him was looking into,” the scout said. “The rider was following Cohoes’s herd. Now, he’d always keep about the same distance from them. When they stopped, he’d stop. When they pulled out, he pulled out. Smart boy.”
“So what do we know from that for sure?” Matt asked.
“We know he only has a handgun, and likely a hideout—one or both.”
Walks Quickly opened his hand to show an empty shell. “He was hunting with that—he dropped it. Probably the only mistake he’s made so far, but a good one for us. Maybe he’s short on ammo. Remember when the first Indian was killed—Young Man Catching Up—there was blood on him that couldn’t have been his own, since he was shot clean. I’ve a notion it was animal—deer or elk, maybe antelope. Suppose he’d killed a elk, say, and this man found him and wanted the meat and Young Man said no. This feller’s low on ammo, so he wants to be sure. So he walks away and shoots Young Man in the back. I’m guessing, mind.”
“And the other Brule. Was it the same man?”
“Not sure. But he was white, and there are no buff hunters around right now. Man hiding out on the trail, living off the land, might sure want a little relaxation, so he’d maybe gamble some. He’d lose. But then he
152
might know what gossips some Indians are. Losing could’ve sobered his thinking some.”
“So what do you get from all that?”
“First, it’s probably the same person. Second, he’s been up in this part of the country ahead of Cohoes and Domino, and waiting for them. And third, he’ll be pulling his play about now. My guess is he was double-crossed. Maybe since he’s a gambler, he could’ve lost the herd in a game.”
Matt nodded, biting his lower lip. “Hangs together.”
“I’m figuring we’ll reach Franc’s Crossing pretty directly now,” Windy said.
“We’ll split the command there—First Platoon to the cattle. Second to the sheep. The order will be to hold them away from each other.”
“With that fire started by Otio and his boys, that’ll be a problem. And then there is old Lo, the poor Indian. He 11 be looking for his sweetheart, Revenge, in no uncertain way.”
They reached Franc’s Crossing about the time that Windy and Matt had figured. Kincaid called a halt and the men let their mounts drink.
They had been there only a little while when suddenly the sound of rifle fire came echoing across the plains.