Read Novel 1966 - Kilrone (v5.0) for Free Online

ammunition, and fortunately for us the Indian’s idea of war was based on a one-battle, one-war tradition. Joseph had arrived at the idea of the campaign, but he was fighting a rear-guard action with only some three hundred-odd fighting men, and all his women and children along.”
    “I’d never thought of it that way.”
    “We’ve been lucky, Cart. Genghis Khan found the Mongols split up, living a life not too different from that of the Indians, and busy with tribal warfare and tribal hatreds. He brought them all together, and look what happened.”
    “You don’t think anything like that is developing now, surely?”
    “No, I don’t. But suppose there was somebody down there in the mountains who could keep the Bannocks and the Paiutes together and disciplined. Suppose he could make a feint that would draw us away from the post? We’ve got several hundred thousand rounds of ammunition at the post now, and five hundred new rifles.”
    “You make me feel that we should turn right around and head back for the post,” Dr. Hanlon said. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
    “No, I don’t. Or I think I don’t. And as for Kilrone’s theory…it’s too late now. Moreover, there isn’t an Indian anywhere who could do it.”
    “Not that we know of.”
    Mellett drew on his cigar and looked at the glowing end. “That’s right…not that we know of.”
    Down the line a few of the fires were already out. Mellett leaned over his fire and pulled back the biggest of the sticks, then scattered dirt over the small blaze. Smoke rose in the air and he tossed another handful of dirt over a glowing ember.
    “I’ll take a look around,” he said. “Better turn in, Cart. I’m going to push it tomorrow. I’m going to try to reach the rendezvous point ahead of time.” He bent over and rubbed out his cigar. “Webb just might need some help.”
    The stars came out, a coyote questioned the night, and Dr. Carter Hanlon stretched out on his back and looked up at the sky. He was tired, but it was a good tiredness, a weariness of the muscles and not of the nerves. A night’s rest and a breakfast, and he would be ready again.
    But Mellett’s doubts worried him. Charlie was not a man to speak as he had tonight unless he was genuinely upset. And Hanlon had been too long on the frontier to be skeptical about the intuitions of old Indian fighters. They knew when trouble was in the wind. He was thinking of that when he fell asleep.
    Mellett got to his feet and went over to the horses. He spoke to them softly, and then went on to where the sentry stood. After he had replied to the challenge they stood together for a few minutes.
    Keith was a lean, rather haggard young man with a wry sense of humor. He looked like a college professor, but as a matter of fact he had never gotten beyond the fifth grade. He was known in the troop as a particularly vicious rough-and-tumble fighter, and was one of the best rifle shots on the post. This was his fourth year in the cavalry, all of the time on the frontier. He liked Mellett—first, because he was a fighter; and second, because he was never reckless with his troops. The number of fights Mellett’s troop engaged in was as great as any other in the regiment, the percentage of casualties appreciably less.
    “Think we’ll have a fight this time, sir?” Keith asked.
    “Yes.”
    Keith glanced toward the Captain. “Will we meet the Colonel tomorrow, sir?”
    “If all goes well.”
    Mellett moved on, pausing with each of the guards for a few words. As he neared the last man, on the edge of the junipers, he thought he smelled tobacco smoke. The smell was faint, but tangible. Thomas was a new man, and very cocksure.
    “Private,” he said sternly, “there will be no smoking on guard duty. I believed I smelled tobacco smoke when I came up here. If I was sure, I should see you courtmartialed.”
    Then in a somewhat easier voice he said, “Don’t be a fool, man. A lighted match out here