The Big Gun (Dusty Fog's Civil War Book 3) Read Online Free

son-of-a-bitching duty like
soldiers.’
    Tall, lean, Indian-dark, with a
high cheek-boned, hook-nosed face that was suggestive of mixed blood, Kiowa
Cotton looked—and was—a very dangerous man to have as an enemy. On
his head of close-cropped black hair, he had a yellow-topped kepi.
The silver star-in-a-circle badge—the circle bearing a laurel
wreath motif and the center of the star embossed with the letters
TLC—that usually graced the hat’s front had been removed as an aid
to remaining undetected. A tight-rolled red bandana trailed its
long ends over the front of his waist-length, cadet-gray tunic. His
yellow-striped riding breeches ended in the leggings of Kiowa
moccasins. Around his waist hung a Western-style gun belt. At the
left side, butt forward for a cross-draw, was holstered a Remington
1861 Army revolver. The sheath on the right side of the belt was
empty, for the bowie knife—its blade blackened by smoke to prevent
from glinting and maybe attracting unwanted attention—was in his
right hand and ready for use.
    Instead of heeding
Kiowa ’s
silent exhortation, the sentries continued to talk. Waiting
somewhat impatiently for them to separate and go where they could
be dealt with, the sergeant looked round the large clearing. Once
again, he decided that it should never have been selected as a
campsite for such an important man; particularly when he was
travelling with so small an escort.
    In times of peace, the clearing
would have been a pleasant place in which to spend a night. Being
on the banks of a small stream that eventually flowed into the
Ouachita River, one could easily catch fish for supper. The surrounding
woods gave shelter from the wind and the Pine Bluff-Arkadelphia
trail was nearby.
    Those very qualities,
particularly the latter, make the clearing anything but an ideal
resting place in times of war. The trees and bushes that lined
three of its sides, including a scattering along the banks of the
stream, gave cover in which enemies could —in fact, at that moment did— find concealment.
    Along the edge of the trail,
again offering a hiding place for a member of the Texas Light
Cavalry, were parked a Concord coach and two Rocker
ambulances. iii At the center of
the clearing, the large campfire was gradually dying down since all
the soldiers not on guard duty had retired to their two-man pup
tents. The wagons’ teams and horses of the escort were picketed in
two lines parallel to the stream, watched over by a third sentry.
The pair being studied by Kiowa shared the remainder of the
boundary between them. One went from the wagons, north around the
perimeter until making contact with the man on the picket line.
Moving south, the other would approach the corporal’s hiding place.
If permitted, he could turn east and pass behind the brightly lit
marquee which alone showed any sign of life. Inside, ‘ Cussing’ Culver, commanding general of the Union’s
Army of Arkansas, was entertaining the officers of his
company-strong escort and three civilians.
    The latter group, particularly
General Culver, was the reason for Kiowa Cotton ’s presence and desire that the
sentries should continue with their patrols instead of standing in
conversation.
    The Battle of
Martin ’s
Mill had been fought four days earlier. By winning it, the
Confederate States’ Army of Arkansas and North Texas had succeeded
in moving all their supplies and equipment south across the
Ouachita River. While the rest of the army was consolidating their
positions along the bank of the Ouachita, Company C of the Texas
Light Cavalry—under its newly-promoted commanding officer, Captain
Dustine Edward Marsden Fog—had been sent north of the river to
reconnoiter.
    On their way back, with
information regarding the Yankees ’ troop dispositions, Kiowa Cotton—ranging
ahead as scout—had seen the camp being set up in the clearing.
Moving closer undetected had been an easy task for a man schooled
in the demanding arts of Indian