"If that's the kind of Southerner you are, all right," LaMotte said. His face was nearly as red as his hair. He was furious, because months of delay had culminated in a bungled night's work. But he wouldn't quit. "She's not going to stay on the Ashley and flaunt herself. She's going to die. I'll hide out a while: Then I'll go back alone if the rest of you are too yellow."
No one said anything. They threw their hissing torches into the brackish water and dispersed, leaving Jack Jolly submerged, with darting fish and frogs and a three-foot baby alligator for company. The alligator swam close to the body, opened its jaws, and with needle teeth began to feed on the face.
We buried Foote. Cassandra inconsolable. She lost Nemo when Foote came back. Now this. Nothing I said helped. Late this afternoon, we found her gone. ...
... To C'ston — and not eagerly. With a cold demeanor, Cooper listened to my story, and my assertion that Prudence and his own daughter would corroborate it. He was clearly angered by M-L's proximity to danger, but he contained it — then. As for the Klan visit, he advised me curtly to drop the matter because no Carolina juryman would convict them. Further, Des's family would certainly find witnesses to prove he was elsewhere at the time. Father Lovewell's presence would never be believed, witnesses or no. The authorities can get nothing from Captain Jolly's trashy kinfolk. No doubt hearing of his involvement, they have already left their campground and vanished from the district
Cooper said he was sure there would be no more incidents. How he could be so certain, I did not know. But his tone permitted no argument. Quite suddenly, he began to harangue me about Marie-Louise. I held fast, saying she would continue to stay at Mont Royal as long as she wished. That incited a burst of ugly recriminations. Before they grew as bad as last time, I fled.
Orry, I don't know what to do. I am sick of fear, and the oppression of fear. ...
"Yes, I understand," Jane said when Madeline expressed her feelings. "My people lived with that kind of fear for generations. But I don't know that Mr. Cooper's right about the Klan giving up. Do you remember when Mr. Hazard visited, right after the war? I said I thought there would be many more years of battle before a last victory. I still believe it."
"I could go to General Hampton. He promised to help me."
"How can he help? He hasn't any troops, has he?"
Madeline shook her head.
"I think we'd better stay on watch," Jane said. "A man like that LaMotte, he might take defeat from a person of his own class, another man, but a woman? A colored woman? I'll bet he'd lose his mind rather than let that happen."
"I think he's already lost it."
Jane shrugged, not caring to argue the point. "It isn't the last battle. He'll be back."
BOOK FIVE
WASHITA
Let us have peace.
As brave men and as the soldiers of a government which has exhausted its peace efforts, we, in the performance of a most unpleasant duty, accept the war begun by our enemies, and resolve to make its end final.
To proceed south, in the direction of the Antelope Hills, thence towards the Washita River, the supposed winter seat of the hostile tribes; to destroy their village and ponies; to kill and hang all warriors, and bring back all women and children ...
48
The scouts rode in, chased by four yapping dogs. Griffenstein came in, and the Corbin brothers, and a stout young Mexican interpreter who had been raised by the Cheyennes and spoke the language fluently. His name was Romero, so naturally everyone called him Romeo.
California Joe rode a mule. Observing his arrival, Charles watched him sway from side to side, blithely smiling at nothing. "Drunk as a tick," he said later to Dutch Henry. "How can Custer tolerate such a clown?"
Dutch Henry scratched the head of a terrier with a stubby wagging tail. There were now at least a dozen stray dogs around the camp. "I kinda get the impression that the only strong man Custer likes is Custer. Don't really make any difference, does it? You said you wanted to kill Cheyennes. Curly's going to do it."
November came down, skies like dark slate, winds bitter. In the camp on the north bank of the Arkansas, Custer ordered a double-up of rifle drill. Twice daily, men of the Seventh fired at targets set up at one hundred, two hundred, three hundred yards. Cooke's sharpshooters frequently dropped around to jeer and offer superior comments.
Generals Sully and Custer called a meeting of the officers and scouts to review the strategy Sheridan had conceived and gotten approved by Uncle Billy at Division. To Griffenstein, Charles whispered a question about Harry Venable, who was absent. Griffenstein said Venable was getting over a bad case of influenza.
General Sully, U.S.M.A. '41, was a bit older than Orry would have been had he lived. The general had a famous father, Thomas Sully of Philadelphia, the painter of portraits and historical scenes; even a man like Charles, unsophisticated about art, knew Sully's heroic depictions of General Washington's passage over the Delaware.
The artist's son was a dignified sort, with the usual chest-length beard. Although he'd recently failed to find and whip any Indians south of the Arkansas, he had a first-class reputation going back to the Mexican War. He was considered an experienced Indian fighter, having chased the Sioux in the Minnesota Rebellion of '63 and driven them to refuge in the Black Hills. Charles watched Custer closely; the Boy General couldn't entirely hide his resentment of Sully. There was not room for both of them on the expedition, Charles decided.
Using maps, Sully explained that three attack columns would thrust into the Indian Territory simultaneously. A mixed infantry and cavalry column was marching east from Fort Bascom, New Mexico Territory. A second column, Fifth Cavalry troops under Brigadier Eugene Carr, would strike southeast from Fort Lyon, Colorado, toward the Antelope Hills, a familiar landmark just below the North Canadian.
The central column was Sully's, or Custer's, depending whose side you took. It was considered the main attack force. It consisted of eleven troops of the Seventh and five, infantry companies from the Third, Fifth, and Thirty-eighth regiments. The column would strike due south, establish a supply base to be garrisoned by the infantrymen, then push on to trail and harry any Cheyennes or Arapahoes they found encamped in the Territory. The other two columns were like jungle beaters, Sully said, sweeping the Indians ahead of the main column. Charles discovered that all of this was made possible by some old friends of his.
"Your boys from the Tenth," Dutch Henry said after the meeting. "They're posted all along the Smoky Hill now. Wasn't for them, Custer would still be patrolling up there, 'stead of chasing glory down here. Those darkies got a damn fine reputation. Man for man, they're better soldiers than all the white rum heads and peg legs in this army. Nobody much likes to admit it, but it's true."
That brought memories of Magic Magee and Star Eyes Williams; of Old Man Barnes and Colonel Grierson. It brought a thin, pleased smile to Charles's bearded face, too. The first in some time.