thank you for it. I am not truly like many men, Mister Kemp. I see my path laid out before me. Some would call it "destiny", but I call it only what I must do.' He paused. 'And I must do it.'
'You will be dead by the time the sun sets. Or tied to a Sioux lodge-pole while their squaws work on your helpless body.'
Crow shook his head. 'I do not believe that. I have been in places and seen what you describe but...' he hesitated as if he regretted lifting an edge of the curtain on his past.
'No, Mister Kemp. I think that this will be a good day for fighting. Perhaps what the Oglala call a good day to fight and a good day to die. Brave men to the front and faint hearts to the rear.' His voice slipped from its normal calm and his black eyes glittered in the bright sun. Kemp looked at him through new eyes, wondering if what Menges had said wasn't true. There did seem something of the Indian in Crow.
The briefing had been short, in the presence of Trooper Simpson.
First McLaglen, and then Kemp were called in and spoken to on their own.
Finally, it was Crow's turn.
Menges sat behind his travelling desk, papers and sketch maps scattered over its top. Simpson stood at the side of the tent, face impassive, listening and saying nothing.
'I give you ten men, Mister Crow. You will ride along this trail, here,' pointing at the biggest map. 'I believe that Crazy Horse will attempt to lead you on into another ambush. You will follow at your best speed. When you encounter superior forces I will be close enough to hear and I will come... to your rescue. Mister Kemp will hold a further five or six Troopers in reserve against a need to cover our return. That is all, Mister Crow, unless you have some questions for me?'
Crow looked at the watching Simpson, trying to see ahead to what was going to happen. Menges had effectively signed the death warrant for his own wife, and Crow could hardly expect anything better for himself. His thoughts were those echoed by Kemp a few minutes later as they waited to set out. There could be little doubt that the Captain intended to simply abandon him when the Indians attacked. But there was no way he could prove that. Not until it was too late. To refuse would be cowardice in the face of the enemy and refusing a lawful command.
Either of those could easily end up with his getting shot.
'No questions, Sir.'
Menges looked surprised, and even, maybe, disappointed. As though he'd hoped Crow would refuse. Or cause a great scene that would give him the rightful excuse to kill him. With Trooper Simpson there it wouldn't have been hard to get away with that. If their roles had been reversed Crow would have shot him down without the least hesitation.
'Very well, Mister Crow. Take your ten men. I suggest using Cantwell, Stotter and Baxter for a start.'
That was an interesting suggestion. With all of them dead it would be easier to edit history regarding the previous day's defeat.
'One thing, Sir.'
'What?'
'Small matter.'
Menges glanced at Simpson and Crow was amused to see both of them looking edgy and worried.
'What is it, Mister? Be quick. There's a deal of planning to arrange for this fight.'
'Unless I'm mistaken, Sir, I imagine most of the planning is already done.'
'What in hell do you mean by that, Crow?'
The tall man's voice remained quiet and gentle. 'Not a thing, Sir. Just a comment in passing, Captain.'
"Well, what was it you wanted to ask?'
'My orders, Sir.'
'Yes?'
'I'd like them in writing, Sir.'
'Why?'
'I have the right to ask for them, Sir, and I am not prepared to say more.'
Menges smiled. 'Very well. Your orders will confirm your part in this mission. That you lead your men in pursuit of any hostiles that appear. That is all they'll say.'
'And that you will immediately come to our support, Sir? Will they say that?'
'Dismissed, Mister Crow. I've told you what to do in the presence of this honest witness.'
There was no point in pursuing it any further. Crow knew that and saluted,
'You will be dead by the time the sun sets. Or tied to a Sioux lodge-pole while their squaws work on your helpless body.'
Crow shook his head. 'I do not believe that. I have been in places and seen what you describe but...' he hesitated as if he regretted lifting an edge of the curtain on his past.
'No, Mister Kemp. I think that this will be a good day for fighting. Perhaps what the Oglala call a good day to fight and a good day to die. Brave men to the front and faint hearts to the rear.' His voice slipped from its normal calm and his black eyes glittered in the bright sun. Kemp looked at him through new eyes, wondering if what Menges had said wasn't true. There did seem something of the Indian in Crow.
The briefing had been short, in the presence of Trooper Simpson.
First McLaglen, and then Kemp were called in and spoken to on their own.
Finally, it was Crow's turn.
Menges sat behind his travelling desk, papers and sketch maps scattered over its top. Simpson stood at the side of the tent, face impassive, listening and saying nothing.
'I give you ten men, Mister Crow. You will ride along this trail, here,' pointing at the biggest map. 'I believe that Crazy Horse will attempt to lead you on into another ambush. You will follow at your best speed. When you encounter superior forces I will be close enough to hear and I will come... to your rescue. Mister Kemp will hold a further five or six Troopers in reserve against a need to cover our return. That is all, Mister Crow, unless you have some questions for me?'
Crow looked at the watching Simpson, trying to see ahead to what was going to happen. Menges had effectively signed the death warrant for his own wife, and Crow could hardly expect anything better for himself. His thoughts were those echoed by Kemp a few minutes later as they waited to set out. There could be little doubt that the Captain intended to simply abandon him when the Indians attacked. But there was no way he could prove that. Not until it was too late. To refuse would be cowardice in the face of the enemy and refusing a lawful command.
Either of those could easily end up with his getting shot.
'No questions, Sir.'
Menges looked surprised, and even, maybe, disappointed. As though he'd hoped Crow would refuse. Or cause a great scene that would give him the rightful excuse to kill him. With Trooper Simpson there it wouldn't have been hard to get away with that. If their roles had been reversed Crow would have shot him down without the least hesitation.
'Very well, Mister Crow. Take your ten men. I suggest using Cantwell, Stotter and Baxter for a start.'
That was an interesting suggestion. With all of them dead it would be easier to edit history regarding the previous day's defeat.
'One thing, Sir.'
'What?'
'Small matter.'
Menges glanced at Simpson and Crow was amused to see both of them looking edgy and worried.
'What is it, Mister? Be quick. There's a deal of planning to arrange for this fight.'
'Unless I'm mistaken, Sir, I imagine most of the planning is already done.'
'What in hell do you mean by that, Crow?'
The tall man's voice remained quiet and gentle. 'Not a thing, Sir. Just a comment in passing, Captain.'
"Well, what was it you wanted to ask?'
'My orders, Sir.'
'Yes?'
'I'd like them in writing, Sir.'
'Why?'
'I have the right to ask for them, Sir, and I am not prepared to say more.'
Menges smiled. 'Very well. Your orders will confirm your part in this mission. That you lead your men in pursuit of any hostiles that appear. That is all they'll say.'
'And that you will immediately come to our support, Sir? Will they say that?'
'Dismissed, Mister Crow. I've told you what to do in the presence of this honest witness.'
There was no point in pursuing it any further. Crow knew that and saluted,
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