Black Sun: The Battle of Summit Springs, 1869 (The Plainsmen Series)
Terry C. Johnston
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Terry C. Johnston
No one captures the glory, adventure and drama of the courageous men and women who tamped the American West like award-winning author Terry Johnston. His Plainsmen series brims with colorful characters, fierce battles and compelling historical lore.
Grueling winter gave way to bloody spring as Seamus Donegan and his fellow Army scouts rode west with the Kansas Pacific Railway. Led by the legendary "Buffalo" Bill Cody, they withstood blazing hit-and-run raids by Cheynne Dog Soldiers--while trailed by a skulking enemy from Donegan's past. Then, in midsummer, the fleeing Cheyennes camped. And the 5th Cavalry mounted the brutal surprise attack that would give rise to a fierce new warrior-leader named White Horse: the battle of Summit Springs, 1869.
charge, or we can take the fight to them.” “I’m all for taking it to ’em!” Alderdice shouted. “Hit ’em hard and make ’em reel!” Donegan said. “Let’s fight ’em on the run!” Schenofsky hollered above the clamor. “Skirmish formation—flankers in!” The columns quickly rattled into formation at the top of the hill, sending that old shiver of anticipation down Donegan’s spine as the restless horses snorted and pranced, sensing the coming of battle through their riders. “Right flank loaded!” “Left
lightly. “Hell no. Nothing more than a group of low-roofed, mud buildings that leak when it rains or snows. Sometimes used by buffalo hunters.” “I take it you’ve been there, Cody?” Carr inquired. “I hunt buffalo, General.” “Right now, how about hunting us a campsite. Sun’s fixing to go down.” “Have your advance follow my trail down into the valley. C’mon, Irishman.” Donegan nudged the big mare into an easy lope behind Cody as they broke off the top of that hill. Down into the cottonwood and
sure keep a lookout for that beer train of yours.” “’Preciate that, fellas. Evans got a lot of thirsty soldiers.” “I’ll bet you boys are just as thirsty as them sojurs!” Donegan said. The three reined about to head back to the Evans camp as the leader said, “Shit, I was born thirsty!” Seamus watched the trio disappear into the timber before he turned to Cody. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Cody smiled, wiping his glove across his mouth, then licking his lips. “You’re sure
would pay for assaulting an army employee. “Army employee? Shit! I’m an army employee, mister. Ain’t nothing special about kicking hell out of you—you go lying about me. Spreading word that I’m a thief.” “You stole army property,” he said in muffled tones beneath his folded arms. “Sold it to innkeeper Mason.” “I can see my beating didn’t teach you a thing!” “Stay away from me, Cody!” he cried like a wounded calf. For a moment Cody stood over the agent, fists flexing and relaxing. As much as
out in confusion and terror, finally in pain as the horsemen swept around them, tearing down fence-rails, freeing the animals, then having sport with the domesticated stock before each trembling beast fell kicking in its death throes. Here and there the Cheyenne worked close-in, riding up to the small, curtained windows, smashing them with lances and rifle butts, then hurling burning torches into the dawn darkness that for a moment sheltered the white families inside. When the flames and smoke