Read Cry of Eagles for Free Online Page A

all was black around him, and he felt no more pain and heard no more
    * * *
    Fifteen mounted Apaches under the leadership of Isa rode quietly away from Fort Thomas burdened with more than fifty Winchester .44 caliber rifles and three hundred cartons of shells. Isa led them south, often riding back and forth or in apparently meaningless circles until the desert floor provided a slab of rock where the iron-shod cavalry horses would leave very little sign.
    â€œIt is good,” Isa told Sola. “Now we are ready for a war with the white-eyes.”
    â€œNaiche will be pleased,” Sola answered, glancing over his shoulder.
    â€œYes. And word will reach Geronimo in Mexico that we have many-shoot guns. He will bring more Mimbres warriors across the mountains to join us.”
    â€œI do not think so,” Sola said. “Geronimo is like the big mountain cat. He prefers to fight with only a few warriors, to strike quickly and then disappear. I do not think he will come to our camp in the Dragoons.”
    Isa wondered if Sola could be right. It made little difference, for when it came to shedding the white man’s blood, Naiche had few equals.
    Heading toward the Dragoons by starlight, Isa changed directions often to throw off pursuit. No one must find them until they were fully prepared for the war that was sure to follow.

Chapter 6
    Falcon put on his traveling clothes and walked to the Oriental Saloon. He found Doc still sitting at his favorite table playing poker. His friend looked like death. His face was pale and covered with sweat, the skin stretched taut over bulging cheekbones and sunken eyes that held only the tiniest spark of life. He had been playing poker steadily for over twenty-four hours, since the gunfight at the corral, his only sustenance, cigarettes and whiskey. Falcon could see the man was dying a little more every day. Perhaps that was why he refused to sleep until he passed out—fear that the man with the scythe would come to him in his slumber.
    Falcon looked into Kate’s eyes as she sat next to her man. The people in town called her Big Nose Kate, but Falcon no longer noticed her features. He saw only her love and devotion for Doc. She looked as if she had been crying—probably after trying to get him to eat or sleep, which always made him angry with her. He didn’t like to be babied.
    â€œHey, Doc,” Falcon called as he approached the table.
    Tired eyes flicked his way, then seemed to come a little more alive as Doc smiled. “Hello and good morning, Master MacCallister.”
    Falcon stood there, his hands on his hips and a stern look on his face. “I’m fixing to head on down the road. Are you going to let a friend leave town without letting him buy you breakfast?”
    Doc’s eyes narrowed even as his lips curled in his everpresent sarcastic grin, as if he knew what Falcon was trying to do. “I would never be so rude as to do that, Falcon. Just give me a few more minutes to finish teaching these young men the rudiments of poker, and I shall join you at Campbell and Hatch’s.”
    As Falcon turned to go, he caught Kate’s grateful smile of relief. She gave him a quick wink before she turned back to Doc and the poker game.
    Campbell and Hatch’s Saloon was a combination bar, dance hall, billiard parlor, and eating establishment. As such, it was just as busy at this time of morning as it was at night. The crowd consisted mostly of businessmen getting a bite to eat prior to opening their doors, red-eyed cowboys trying to get some coffee into them before riding back out to punch cattle, and a few dance hall women taking a break before going to bed for the rest of the day.
    Falcon grabbed a table and sat facing the room, as was his habit. When the waiter came he ordered two breakfasts and told the man to keep the coffee coming when his guest arrived.
    Doc walked in a few moments later, and Falcon noticed he was limping slightly from the