18 MAY 1851
BOWIE COUNTY, REPUBLIC OF TEXAS
“How can you tell?” Patton asked. “I’m still getting rained on. And I can’t see anything overhead but green.”
“Yes, but it’s a brighter green than it was.” Cleburne turned to look at Patton. “I think I’ve had enough of forest now, Patton. Can you make it go away?”
“It hasn’t been that bad, Cleburne. At least we see farms from time to time.” Patton tried to remember how many hours had passed since they’d last seen human habitation.
“We saw farms, to be sure, when we crossed the Sabine,” Cleburne said. “And for a day or two after. But I wouldn’t call them friendly, would you? In fact, I got the distinct impression they were paying rather too much attention to us, and all of that attention hostile.” He grinned a vinegar sort of grin. “You don’t suppose Walker coming through here riled them a little, do you? A friendly man like that?”
“He might have got them upset,” Patton said, “depending on how many men he’s got with him.” He wiped a bit of perspiration from his brow. “Wish we’d catch up with him, though. I’m starting to get worried.” It worried him, too, that the locals seemed so upset at the presence of strangers. He’d expected that Walker would be given a more friendly reception by the Texans; after all, many of the people of East Texas were here because they refused to live under the British yoke in Louisiana. They should welcome the presence of a man who would liberate their new country from British financial oppression.
It was doubly upsetting because the farmsteads and small villages they’d encountered had provided their only relief from the closed-in oppressiveness of the woods. The forests of East Texas were darker and more intimidating than any woods the Brothers Grimm had ever written of, and he would have welcomed the chance to talk with human beings from time to time as they passed through the woods. Instead, everyone seemed to be so suspicious as to make Patton think of them not as refugees from, but as agents of, the enemy.
His horse stopped short, nostrils flared and ears flickering. “What?” Patton muttered. Then he heard it, faint and sort of hollow in the thick, resin-scented air. “Someone’s shouting up ahead,” he said quietly. “Trouble, do you think?”
“I’m beginning to doubt we’ll find anything but trouble on this trip,” Cleburne said. When Patton opened his mouth to speak, Cleburne said, “Come on, Patton, admit it. I don’t know what you’ve experienced, but I’ve campaigned some, and this certainly doesn’t feel like soldiering to me. And believe me, the British Army leads the world when it comes to military bumbling.”
“What campaigning?” Patton asked. “We haven’t done a damned thing yet, except chase after people. Why don’t we worry about whether or not it feels right once we’ve started to fight?” He spurred his horse forward. “I want to find out what’s going on up ahead. I’ve been itching for a dust-up. Maybe it’s Walker up there and he needs our help.”
A moment later Cleburne was alongside him. “You idiot,” he said. “Don’t make so much damned noise,” he hissed. “Didn’t you learn anything at that Military Institute?”
“Nope,” Patton said. “Common sense was a second-year course.” He grinned. “Don’t be such an old woman, Cleburne. Of course I’m going to be careful. But the way the locals have been looking at us, don’t you think we ought to scout whatever’s happening up there?”
“I know we should,” Cleburne said. “I just don’t want you charging in there and shouting ‘Hey, here we are, boys!’ That’s not my idea of scouting out a situation.”
“I may not know much, but I know better than that,” Patton said. He felt his mouth turn down for a second and thought, Stop being childish. “How should we do this, then?”
“On foot, I think. We’ll tie up our horses here, and move off through the woods at an angle until we’re about ninety degrees to the road. Less likely to be anybody watching for us out that way. And perhaps we should split up: you go to the south and I go to the north. We’ll meet back here in, say, half an hour.”
They led their horses into the woods until they could convince one another they wouldn’t be easily seen from the road. Patton tied his horse to a low branch with some unease. It might be safer for us to be on foot, he thought, but I’ll surely feel stupid if someone steals our horses.
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