attention, Red prepared to follow him. Before he could do so, Red had to make a grab at and catch the reins of the sergeant’s horses. Unlike Kiowa’s usual mounts, the animals acquired from the Dragoons had not been trained to stand ground-hitched and showed signs of continuing along the path,
What’s up, Kiowa?’ Red called, impatiently curbing the restless fiddle-footing of the four horses.
‘Saw something that looked powerful like a feller’s leg in here,’ the scout answered. ‘And it is one.’
Swinging from his saddle, Red took the precaution of securing the relays’ reins to the branches of a sturdy bush. Then he went to join Kiowa and found the sergeant looking down at a body. It was bare-foot, unarmed, with the linings of its pockets turned inside out. Clad in the uniform of a Texas Light Cavalry private, the corpse had two bullets in its back to tell the cause of death. Bending forward, Kiowa rolled the body over and they studied its agony-distorted features.
‘I can’t mind him,’ the scout commented. ‘Which I ain’t claiming to know every feller in the outfit.’
‘He’s not one of the regular couriers, that’s for sure,’ Red replied. ‘This looks like border-jumpers’ work, Kiowa.’
‘Sure enough does. Ain’t nobody but a bunch of murdering guerillas’d take a man’s boots and turn out his pockets after they’ve killed him. You want for me to take out after ‘em, Mr. Blaze? They’re headed for the river.’
‘They’ll be across it by now,’ Red replied and made a wry face. ‘I’d best see if he’s got anything left to tell us who he is.’
While Red went about the distasteful task of searching the body, Kiowa made a thorough examination of the area. The Indian-dark sergeant paid great attention to the age of the various tracks and formed his conclusions.
‘Anything?’ Kiowa asked as Red straightened up.
‘Nope. We’d best get on our way.’
‘Yep,’ Kiowa agreed. ‘Only there’s likely no rush any more. He was killed ‘tween three ‘n’ four hours back. Which means he’s likely the son-of-a-bitch with the fake orders. You allowed he’d come down this way.’
‘Sure I did, and the time’d be about right,’ Red replied, covering the dead face with his bandana. ‘Only we daren’t count on it being him. Let’s ride. He’ll have the next ford’s guard send somebody out for him.’
Returning to their horses, they freed the reins, mounted and continued with their assignment. While certain that Kiowa had formed a correct estimation of when the man was killed, Red kept them moving at a fast pace. It appeared likely that the impostor with the forged orders had fallen victim to a band of Yankee guerillas, a fate met by more than one lone man riding dispatch. In which case there would be no more unsupported attacks — unless there should be more than one man delivering the forgeries. Red figured he would rather be sure than sorry.
At last the Texans came into sight of the next ford and reined their horses to a stop. Studying the peaceful conditions which prevailed, Red let out a long sigh of relief. He could see no signs to tell that a battle had taken place recently. In fact from the lack of hostile action on the part of the rival guards, they might have been members of the same regiment camped for some reason on opposite banks of the river.
Keen-eyed as always, Kiowa raked the Yankee’s shore and spotted something which he regarded as significant despite the peaceful scene.
‘I’ll bet it was the feller with the false orders we found back there,’ the sergeant said. ‘There’re half-a-dozen Napoleons hidden over that side and pointed this way.’
Following the directions indicated by his companion, Red located one after another of the carefully-concealed cannon amongst the bushes. They were positioned so that their fire would effectively sweep the crossing.
‘No bet,’ Red decided and starting his horse moving.
Riding into the Confederate
What’s up, Kiowa?’ Red called, impatiently curbing the restless fiddle-footing of the four horses.
‘Saw something that looked powerful like a feller’s leg in here,’ the scout answered. ‘And it is one.’
Swinging from his saddle, Red took the precaution of securing the relays’ reins to the branches of a sturdy bush. Then he went to join Kiowa and found the sergeant looking down at a body. It was bare-foot, unarmed, with the linings of its pockets turned inside out. Clad in the uniform of a Texas Light Cavalry private, the corpse had two bullets in its back to tell the cause of death. Bending forward, Kiowa rolled the body over and they studied its agony-distorted features.
‘I can’t mind him,’ the scout commented. ‘Which I ain’t claiming to know every feller in the outfit.’
‘He’s not one of the regular couriers, that’s for sure,’ Red replied. ‘This looks like border-jumpers’ work, Kiowa.’
‘Sure enough does. Ain’t nobody but a bunch of murdering guerillas’d take a man’s boots and turn out his pockets after they’ve killed him. You want for me to take out after ‘em, Mr. Blaze? They’re headed for the river.’
‘They’ll be across it by now,’ Red replied and made a wry face. ‘I’d best see if he’s got anything left to tell us who he is.’
While Red went about the distasteful task of searching the body, Kiowa made a thorough examination of the area. The Indian-dark sergeant paid great attention to the age of the various tracks and formed his conclusions.
‘Anything?’ Kiowa asked as Red straightened up.
‘Nope. We’d best get on our way.’
‘Yep,’ Kiowa agreed. ‘Only there’s likely no rush any more. He was killed ‘tween three ‘n’ four hours back. Which means he’s likely the son-of-a-bitch with the fake orders. You allowed he’d come down this way.’
‘Sure I did, and the time’d be about right,’ Red replied, covering the dead face with his bandana. ‘Only we daren’t count on it being him. Let’s ride. He’ll have the next ford’s guard send somebody out for him.’
Returning to their horses, they freed the reins, mounted and continued with their assignment. While certain that Kiowa had formed a correct estimation of when the man was killed, Red kept them moving at a fast pace. It appeared likely that the impostor with the forged orders had fallen victim to a band of Yankee guerillas, a fate met by more than one lone man riding dispatch. In which case there would be no more unsupported attacks — unless there should be more than one man delivering the forgeries. Red figured he would rather be sure than sorry.
At last the Texans came into sight of the next ford and reined their horses to a stop. Studying the peaceful conditions which prevailed, Red let out a long sigh of relief. He could see no signs to tell that a battle had taken place recently. In fact from the lack of hostile action on the part of the rival guards, they might have been members of the same regiment camped for some reason on opposite banks of the river.
Keen-eyed as always, Kiowa raked the Yankee’s shore and spotted something which he regarded as significant despite the peaceful scene.
‘I’ll bet it was the feller with the false orders we found back there,’ the sergeant said. ‘There’re half-a-dozen Napoleons hidden over that side and pointed this way.’
Following the directions indicated by his companion, Red located one after another of the carefully-concealed cannon amongst the bushes. They were positioned so that their fire would effectively sweep the crossing.
‘No bet,’ Red decided and starting his horse moving.
Riding into the Confederate
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