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.
wounds, pulling the cloth tenderly from every inch of oozy flesh. Seamus didn’t need anyone to tell him how lucky he was to be alive. Each new day came to mean one more sunrise he did not have to face the gallows, a condemned man staring death in the face. He had done everything he could to save his own life, and found himself wanting. It had not been enough, and in the end he needed Cody’s help. Twisting now off the buttocks gone numb, he inched to the side of the bed and sat up slowly.
I was hunting buffalo,” Cody said. “So Slinger was on the island with you two?” “Damn right. Major Forsyth was proud of the man.” Donegan turned to Stillwell to ask, “How’s this Pepoon?” “Sharp don’t like him worth squat,” Jack admitted. “But, the man’s all right at his job for a soldier. He’s just dyed-in-the-wool army is all.” “Thing is, it sometimes takes more than soldiering to get the job done out here,” Donegan replied. “Major Forsyth was the sort of man who didn’t let his army-mouth
ago the running fight with the soldiers had cost Tall Bull some good warriors. But this day near the beginning of the Moon of Leaves Falling had cost him no more than a half-dozen ponies and sixteen lodges some of his people were forced to abandon in their hasty flight. After sundown a few of the small bands had come in. Two of them reported skirmishing with the soldiers throughout the day, being chased until darkness forced the white men to give up their hunt. Between them, both groups had lost
the Red River. The Fifth Cavalry was drawing close to the center of the action. For three days now Carr had relentlessly pushed his men south under clear, cold skies of the new year. Nearing their goal, Cody and his advance scout reined up, awaiting Major Carr. “To a Mexican, that’s the Rio Colorado down there, General,” the scout explained. “The Canadian to us, Cody?” “Right. Not far downstream, you’ll find a place called Adobe Walls.” “A town? Out here?” Donegan asked. Cody laughed
explained when he dropped from the saddle and handed his reins up to Farley. As well, Donegan and Cody had dropped to the ground at the site of old Fort Lyon. “Trail just up and disappears,” Green apologized. “Got to be something here,” Donegan had muttered, his gray eyes scanning the tall grass. Something about it tugged at him, the way it stood and bent with the morning breeze, leading all the way to a large stand of cottonwood near the riverbank. “Let’s put your noses to work,” Cody said,