Black Sun, The Battle of Summit Springs, 1869 by Terry C. Johnston Page B

guard had several brief skirmishes with the warriors protecting the flight of their village. They lasted until dark, when the soldiers finally gave up the chase and went into camp on the North Fork of the Solomon. Throughout the following day the closest Cody’s scouts got to the warriors was to follow the distant dust cloud raised by the many horses and travois.
    During that late morning and into the afternoon, Donegan noticed not only that the cloud was becoming thinner, but that the dust billowing over the fleeing Indians appeared to be widening. That could mean but one thing.
    â€œThey’re scattering, Bill,” Seamus said, offering his canteen to Cody as they sat atop a low rise in the endless swell and fall of land, allowing their horses to blow.
    â€œNo doubt of it now.”
    Behind them in the distance plodded Carr’s cavalry, with Pepoon’s civilians out as flankers to protect the unit from any surprise hit-and-run attacks by the warriors who might double back on the soldier column.
    â€œYou take one trail, I take another?”
    â€œNot yet, we don’t,” Cody replied. “They’re bound to be heading same place we need to be.” He gave the canteen back. “Water.”
    â€œWhere they going?”
    â€œMy guess is the headwaters of the Beaver.”
    â€œBeen across it meself.”
    â€œWith Forsyth?”
    He nodded. “You want me go back and tell Carr what’s on your mind?”
    Cody shook his head. “No, not just yet. We’ve got two jobs now, Irishman. Staying with the Indian trail—and being sure these soldiers have water.”
    â€œYou ask me, I’ll tell you how important water is to a sojur!”
    They laughed easily as the canteen strap went back over the saddlehorn and Cody led off. Both kept their eyes on the shimmering distance where the dust cloud dispersed across the hazy, shimmering horizon.
    Three hours later the pair stopped on another low rise, where they dismounted, loosening the cinches for a few minutes while they waited until the rear column came in sight once more. Four riders loped into sight. Two of the group waved their hats when it appeared the two scouts had spotted them. Cody took his floppy slouch hat and signaled with it.
    â€œCarr and Royall?” Cody asked as they waited for the four riders.
    â€œI doubt Royall’s with him. The old man probably left Royall in charge of the column while he rode up here to have a chat with us, Bill.”
    They waited, Cody more irritated than impatient for the delay caused by the soldiers.
    â€œGlad to see you boys held up,” Carr said as he reined up with three junior officers, each of them sweating in their wool tunics although it was a cool autumn day on the high plains.
    â€œWe figure we’ll have to split up soon, Major,” Cody announced.
    â€œThe village breaking up?” Carr asked, his face showing that he already knew the answer. “Stay with the biggest trail, Cody.”
    â€œWe’ll do the best we can.”
    Carr inched closer, his voice softer. “Cody, one of Pepoon’s scouts says he figures today’s march to water is a lot longer than the twenty-five miles you told me it would be when we broke camp this morning.”
    Cody glared at the major. “One of Pepoon’s boys want to be your chief of scouts, eh?”
    â€œDon’t go getting testy on me, Cody.”
    â€œYou’re right, Major. No right of me doing that—”
    â€œWhat Bill’s trying to say is—we got a choice of trails right now,” Donegan interrupted. “But the Injins are going to water just like us.”
    â€œThat’s another thing Pepoon’s men tell me. They say we won’t find any water where you’re leading us, Cody.”
    The young scout squinted his eyes and shifted the hat on his head, grinding his teeth angrily. “Who the hell you want guiding you, Major? Me? Or this other