when he saw Boston and Autie.
“What are you two doing here?” Tom asked. “You are supposed to be back with the train.”
“If there is going to be any action, we want to be a part of it,” Boston said.
“Yeah,” Autie said. “I’m not going to miss out on this.”
Falcon saw the expression in Tom’s eyes. Oddly, it was one of resignation and sadness.
“General,” Tom said. “Shouldn’t we leave Colonel MacCallister with Reno?”
“Why?” Custer asked.
“Reno has never fought the Indians before. I have a feeling MacCallister has.”
Custer looked at Falcon for a moment; then he nodded. “Tom’s right,” he said. “You’ll probably be more helpful with Reno. Do you mind?”
“You are in command, General,” Falcon said. “I go where you send me.”
Falcon started to turn away, but Tom called out to him.
“Wait a moment, will you?”
Falcon stopped until Tom caught up with him.
“Tell Lorena,” Tom started. “Tell her I think it would have worked.”
“Tom, if you don’t want this situation to get any more serious, shouldn’t you tell her that yourself?”
Tom’s response was a rather melancholy smile. He stuck his hand out in offer of a handshake. Falcon took it.
“When you see me at Fiddler’s Green, the first drink is on me,” Tom said.
Chapter Twenty- two
Reno’s total force consisted of 134 officers and men and sixteen scouts. His battalion was just crossing the river when Falcon rejoined him. As the horses crossed, they stuck their muzzles down into the water, drinking briefly. Seeing the horses drink this water with obvious enjoyment, after having refused to drink the water back at Ash Creek, Falcon poured his brackish water out and refilled his canteen, dragging it through the water as he came across.
Once Reno reached the other side, he formed his troops in a battalion-front formation, then sat there for a long, silent moment.
“Custer did say he would support me, didn’t he?” Reno asked Falcon.
“Yes,” Falcon replied.
Reno looked down the long line of his soldiers. Not more than one in three had ever heard a shot fired in anger. And though Reno had a sterling Civil War record, this would be his first engagement against the Indians.
The expressions on the faces of the men ranged from eagerness to determined to apprehensive to the verge of panic, but all sat their saddles, waiting for the order to be given.
Reno raised his right hand high, held it for a moment, then brought it down sharply.
“Charge!” he yelled.
They galloped, in battalion-front, galloping down the valley at a pace that was faster than many of the younger soldiers had ever ridden a horse. Ahead of each company, within the battalion front, rode the commanding officer of that company, along with the trumpeter and guidon bearer.
The trumpeters had been forced to be quiet for the last two days. But now they blared out the clarion call of charge, each call louder than the other as they competed, not only against each other, but also against the drumming sound of the hoofbeats of well over one hundred galloping horses.
Ahead of them, Falcon saw warriors coming out of the village, afoot and on horseback, preparing to meet the charge. But instead of closing the distance toward the charging soldiers, they began riding back and forth, raising a great cloud of dust. As Falcon saw this, he realized the dust wasn’t incidental. They were raising the dust cloud on purpose. They were trying to mask something.
Squinting his eyes, Falcon peered through the dust and as he did so, he saw a small ravine in which hundreds of warriors were waiting for them.
“Reno!” Falcon shouted, pointing. “Look there!”
“Battalion, halt!” Reno shouted, holding his hand up.
“Major, no, we can’t halt here!” Falcon said. “We have to carry through the attack!”
One soldier, unable to control his horse, shouted in fear as his mount dashed ahead of the others, heading straight for the Indians.
“George! George, get back here!” some of the other soldiers called, but try though he did, the cavalryman couldn’t bring his horse around.
As he came even with the Indians, several leaped out of the ravine and ran toward him. He was knocked off the horse. Then the Indians gathered around him, then began clubbing him. His panicked cries ended instantly.
“Dismount!” Reno said. “Horse holders, retire to the timber over there. The rest of you, form a skirmish line!”
