The Month the Babies Cry: Chapter One

Chapter One: A Comanche Moon The 23rd Texas Cavalry bivouacked along El Camino Real, near the banks of the Red River outside Natchitoches. It was an old road, haunted by the ghosts of French and Spanish soldiers and traders who had long ago trod upon its wagon rutted clay. Many obedient soldiers or greed-driven adventurers had died along that road, from disease or from the arrows of savages. As the curtain of this Louisiana night fell, campfires and candle lanterns flickered, speckling the sloping ground like sad giant fireflies. cheap albion gold Gray plumes of smoke spiraled and swirled into the darkness. Those soldiers without duties were settling in for the night, attending to gear or cooking what food they had. These soldiers had fought every day since the Red River campaign had begun, and all were weary. Some had already collapsed in sleep. Micah and Elbert sat near their own small fire, their eyes fixed on the flames. Shaking himself from his reverie, Micah set a tin coffeepot on the fire, then untied and opened a small sack of coffee taken from the black-tarred haversack of a dead Yankee. With his Bowie knife, he split the end of a stick and slipped it over the lip of a tin plate. He poured the beans into the plate and roasted them, stirring them with a wooden spoon and shaking them back and forth. When the beans began to crackle and reached the dark color he liked, Micah poured the beans back into the sack and pounded them with the Bowie