“Captain,” Lieutenant Bristol said. “With all due respect, sir, you have not encountered Geronimo before. You may find this operation more difficult than you realize.”
“Yes, well, I realize this will be my first scout since arriving out West, but I have taught military tactics at West Point for the last four years, so it isn’t exactly as if I am a novice in the art of warfare.”
Lieutenant Bristol cleared his throat, but said nothing.
“Our civilian scout has not commented,” Captain Trevathan said. He looked pointedly at Matt. “Mr. Jensen, what say you?”
“I’m not that impressed with your plan,” Matt said flatly.
Some of the others who were attending the briefing gasped in surprise.
“Really,” Trevathan said, obviously peeved by Matt’s comment. “And pray tell, Mr. Jensen, if it isn’t too much trouble, what is wrong with my plan?”
“I’ll be happy to tell you what is wrong,” Matt said, pointing to the map. “You have drawn this plan up as if you are engaging an organized army on a battlefield. You aren’t attacking an army, Captain, you are attacking smoke. Do you have tactics you can use against smoke?”
“You description is quite colorful, Jensen, but you are making my point. When you compare Geronimo to smoke, you are just perpetuating the myth. I will make allowances for your inability to understand the basic concept of this operation, Mr. Jensen, because you are just a civilian, and I cannot expect you to grasp the intricacies of military tactics. But this mission is one of classic cavalry deployment. And if we stick to our carefully prepared plan, as I fully expect us to do, the Indians will not escape.”
“Captain, I’ve been out here for a couple of years now, and I know the way these Apache devils operate,” Lieutenant Bristol said. “And I must confess that I believe there is something to what Mr. Jensen is saying.”
Trevathan turned his attention away from Matt and looked directly at Bristol. “Lieutenant, if I may ask, how did you get your commission?”
“I got a direct commission from the ranks, sir,” Bristol replied.
“A direct commission from the ranks?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lieutenant, I am not only a graduate of the Military Academy, but, as you well know, I taught military tactics there. Do you really intend to challenge me?”
“No, sir, I would never do that,” Bristol replied.
“I would hope not,” Trevathan said. “Now, gentlemen, by this time tomorrow we will have a victory to celebrate. Return to your men and prepare them for a midnight departure. I expect us to be in position, ready to strike, at dawn’s first light.”
By dawn the next day, in accordance with Trevathan’s operational plan, the company, minus Bristol’s platoon, had reached their debarkation point. Then, from a distant hill, there came a series of mirror flashes from the heliograph Bristol had carried with him.
“Lieutenant Manning,” Trevathan called.
“Yes, sir?”
“You are a signal officer, Lieutenant. What does the message say?”
“Indians spotted, moving north along Bitter Water Creek,” Manning read.
“By Godfrey, we’ve got him!” Trevathan said. “Men!” he shouted to the troopers. “Lieutenant Bristol has spotted the Indians! Get mounted. We are about to carry the fight to the enemy.”
Sergeant Emerson mounted first, then started up the dry creek bed.
“Sergeant Emerson, where do you think you are going?” Trevathan called to him.
“I’m going to take the point, sir,” Emerson replied.
“I want no one at point to give away our position.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but in terrain like this, you have to have someone riding point,” Emerson said.
“Sergeant, you are forgetting your place,” Trevathan said. “One more word from you and I will charge you with insubordination. Now, return to the company at once.”
“Yes, sir,” Emerson said and, as ordered, he returned to the main body as the others started toward their horses.
“Captain, if we are going to be riding up the creek bed without a point, then we should at least have flanker riders on either side,” Matt said.
“Thank you, Mr. Jensen, but you were hired as a scout, not as a tactician. Please refrain from any further suggestions along those lines. Flanker riders will slow us down.”
“It’s your command,” Matt replied.
“Yes, Mr. Jensen, in that you are correct,” Trevathan said. He stood in his stirrups, held his hand over his head, then brought it down.
“Forward, ho!” he ordered, and the company started forward at the trot.
Half an hour later, the dry creek bed narrowed precipitously, and Matt felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, Mr. Jensen?” Sergeant Emerson asked.
“If you mean do I think it looks like we’re riding into a trap, yes,” Matt said.
“Maybe the cap’n ain’t noticed it,” Emerson suggested. He called up to Trevathan, who was riding at the head of the column. “Captain Trevathan, have you noticed how them walls is closin’ in on us?” Emerson asked. “This ain’t good, Cap’n. This ain’t good at all.”
“Thank you for your concern, Sergeant Emerson,” Trevathan replied. “We will continue according to the operational plan.”
“Captain Trevathan, sir, I agree with Sergeant Emerson,” Trooper Jones said.
“You, Trooper Jones? You agree with Sergeant Emerson? And so now I am to take advice from a private?”
“I haven’t always been a private, sir.”
“I’m well aware of the fact that you were an officer during the Civil War, Trooper Jones. But you are a private now, and I am in command.”
“Yes, sir,” Trooper Jones replied.
“Captain, you are aware of what happened to Custer, aren’t you?” Matt asked.
“That will be enough from you, Mr. Jensen,” Trevathan said. “As soon as we return from this scout, I intend to see Colonel McKenzie and have your service with the U.S. Army terminated.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Matt replied. “As soon as we get back—assuming we do get back—I intend to resign from the scout service.”
“Please do,” Trevathan said. “I think that would be best for you and the army.”
To Matt’s relief, they were not attacked while they were in the narrow ravine, but they made contact with Bristol without ever encountering the Apache.
“Where are they?” Trevathan said, obviously angry that they had not encountered the Indians. “Your signal said you had spotted them and they were coming toward us up Bitter Water Creek.”
“They were between us, sir. I don’t know what happened to them,” Bristol said.
“Are you sure you spotted them?”
“Yes, sir, we all saw them,” Bristol replied.
“Well, they couldn’t have just disappeared like—”
“Smoke, Captain?” Bristol said.
Trevathan glared at Bristol. “That’s enough, Lieutenant. You are bordering on insubordination.”
“Yes, sir,” Bristol said.
“Lieutenant Manning,” Trevathan called to his second lieutenant. “I want you to—”
“Injuns!” someone shouted, interrupting whatever order Bristol was about to give. A veritable cloud of arrows rained down on them, obviously a coordinated attack. The whishing sound of arrows was followed by cries from the horses, many of which had sustained multiple hits. There were also cries of fear and groans of pain from some of the men who had been struck.
“Dismount! Dismount! Form a skirmish line!” Trevathan ordered.
“Trevathan, no! We can’t dismount here! We have to get to more open ground!” Matt shouted.