of dust.
'You men don't say much,' Crow commented.
'Sir?' said Stotter, the younger of the two.
'Keep your mouths shut, don't you? Like all the men in this unit.'
'Guess so, Sir,' muttered Baxter. 'Captain says that gossip gives us away to Indians.'
'Jesus,' grinned Crow, wiping away the mask of sand from his mouth and eyes. 'Comin' in like this he might as well have bands and bugles and drums. Every Sioux for fifty miles around'll know where we're goin' and what we aim to do there.'
'Don't that make the plan kind of .?..' Stotter's mouth closed and the words ran away into the heat of the day.
'Dangerous? Yes, I figure you could say that, Trooper. But maybe the Captain knows something we don't.'
Both men finally turned from the front to look at him, their eyes rimmed with dust, sweat staining the armpits and bellies of their blue shirts.
Neither of them framed the question that hung on both their lips and Crow shook his head in disgust. 'Yeah, maybe,' he said quietly, letting the stallion ease its way back to the rear of the patrol.
At a little after three Menges halted the column again and called Crow forwards with Sergeant McLaglen, both men joining him where he lay stretched out in the shade of a clump of bushes, his shirt open to the navel, panting in the warm sun.
'Nearly there,' he said, motioning for them to sit down.
'The camp, Sir?' asked McLaglen, taking a swig of water from his canteen and spitting it out where it puddle the dust into mud for a moment until it vanished back into dust again.
'Right, Sergeant. We're goin' to hit those red bastards where it really hurts. Should be mainly women and brats there. We can wipe them out. In and out, fast.' He drew his forty-five caliber Colt and stabbed at the air with it in illustration. 'In... and... out...'
'All of us, Sir?' asked Crow.
'I'm not a fool, Mister, and don't try to make me so in front of the Sergeant. Of course there'll be back-up. And you will be it. Take four troopers.'
'Four?' Crow wasn't able to hide his surprise. Four men was worse than useless.
There was a long silence and Crow knew that he'd said the wrong thing: A small lizard darted forwards and scampered into the shade of his left boot, nestling for a moment in the coolness. His face without expression Crow shifted his foot bringing down the heel on the frail little creature, crushing it. Snapping the thin bones and pulping it into the dirt.
Menges spoke slowly, face flushed, eyes flicking from side to side, not looking directly at Crow.
'You questionin' my order, Mister?'
'No Sir. Just checkin' to make sure I heard you right when you said you wanted the back-up to be just me and four Troopers. That was what you said, Sir?'
McLaglen coughed nervously and picked up a couple of pebbles tossing them from hand to hand. The Captain lay back and stared up at the blue bowl of the sky rolling on over them. Crow noticed that Menges's fingers were working and knotting, right hand against left. As though they were fighting against each other.
Tour, Mister Crow?'
'That's what you said, Captain.'
'Then that's what I meant. You agree?' Crow didn't answer. Menges shifted his gaze to McLaglen who also looked away. 'Well, I guess you don't disagree. You stay here with four men. Rear four of the column. I'm goin' in with the rest and we're goin' to hit that camp with just about everythin' we got.'
'How will I know whether you need me and my relief force... Sir?' asked Crow, exposing yet another gap in the planning.
'What?' Crow opened his mouth to repeat what he said but Menges sat up and waved an irritable finger at him. 'I heard you, Mister. I'm not deaf. If you get word from me to come then you come. I'll send you a galloper. Otherwise stay where you are and prepare to cover us if we need to move out fast and hard. Clear?'
'I'm not to follow you in unless you send me word?'
'You read me good, Mister Crow. Glad about that. Good to know you're fightin' keen to get at the Sioux. Even
'You men don't say much,' Crow commented.
'Sir?' said Stotter, the younger of the two.
'Keep your mouths shut, don't you? Like all the men in this unit.'
'Guess so, Sir,' muttered Baxter. 'Captain says that gossip gives us away to Indians.'
'Jesus,' grinned Crow, wiping away the mask of sand from his mouth and eyes. 'Comin' in like this he might as well have bands and bugles and drums. Every Sioux for fifty miles around'll know where we're goin' and what we aim to do there.'
'Don't that make the plan kind of .?..' Stotter's mouth closed and the words ran away into the heat of the day.
'Dangerous? Yes, I figure you could say that, Trooper. But maybe the Captain knows something we don't.'
Both men finally turned from the front to look at him, their eyes rimmed with dust, sweat staining the armpits and bellies of their blue shirts.
Neither of them framed the question that hung on both their lips and Crow shook his head in disgust. 'Yeah, maybe,' he said quietly, letting the stallion ease its way back to the rear of the patrol.
At a little after three Menges halted the column again and called Crow forwards with Sergeant McLaglen, both men joining him where he lay stretched out in the shade of a clump of bushes, his shirt open to the navel, panting in the warm sun.
'Nearly there,' he said, motioning for them to sit down.
'The camp, Sir?' asked McLaglen, taking a swig of water from his canteen and spitting it out where it puddle the dust into mud for a moment until it vanished back into dust again.
'Right, Sergeant. We're goin' to hit those red bastards where it really hurts. Should be mainly women and brats there. We can wipe them out. In and out, fast.' He drew his forty-five caliber Colt and stabbed at the air with it in illustration. 'In... and... out...'
'All of us, Sir?' asked Crow.
'I'm not a fool, Mister, and don't try to make me so in front of the Sergeant. Of course there'll be back-up. And you will be it. Take four troopers.'
'Four?' Crow wasn't able to hide his surprise. Four men was worse than useless.
There was a long silence and Crow knew that he'd said the wrong thing: A small lizard darted forwards and scampered into the shade of his left boot, nestling for a moment in the coolness. His face without expression Crow shifted his foot bringing down the heel on the frail little creature, crushing it. Snapping the thin bones and pulping it into the dirt.
Menges spoke slowly, face flushed, eyes flicking from side to side, not looking directly at Crow.
'You questionin' my order, Mister?'
'No Sir. Just checkin' to make sure I heard you right when you said you wanted the back-up to be just me and four Troopers. That was what you said, Sir?'
McLaglen coughed nervously and picked up a couple of pebbles tossing them from hand to hand. The Captain lay back and stared up at the blue bowl of the sky rolling on over them. Crow noticed that Menges's fingers were working and knotting, right hand against left. As though they were fighting against each other.
Tour, Mister Crow?'
'That's what you said, Captain.'
'Then that's what I meant. You agree?' Crow didn't answer. Menges shifted his gaze to McLaglen who also looked away. 'Well, I guess you don't disagree. You stay here with four men. Rear four of the column. I'm goin' in with the rest and we're goin' to hit that camp with just about everythin' we got.'
'How will I know whether you need me and my relief force... Sir?' asked Crow, exposing yet another gap in the planning.
'What?' Crow opened his mouth to repeat what he said but Menges sat up and waved an irritable finger at him. 'I heard you, Mister. I'm not deaf. If you get word from me to come then you come. I'll send you a galloper. Otherwise stay where you are and prepare to cover us if we need to move out fast and hard. Clear?'
'I'm not to follow you in unless you send me word?'
'You read me good, Mister Crow. Glad about that. Good to know you're fightin' keen to get at the Sioux. Even
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