112- Command -Harry Bartell

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Tonight, we escape to the prairie west of the Platte River and to the Indian fighting US cavalry of the Old West. As James Warner Bella describes it in his exciting tale, command. Mmm. Pretty well, sir.

Yes, Sergeant. It comes from Tennock Cohill back for the patrol. Yes, I see him. Halt the column. Yes, sir. Haltom! Haltom! Haltom! Hand me my field glasses, Sergeant. Yes, sir. Hey, R.C. Thank you. Captain Pretles.

Well, Mr. Cohill, here's the best body of grass, sir. This slope with the small run below for water. This is the best bit of whack for tonight. Mr. Cohill, do you see the rise there to the left behind you across the valley?

Yes, sir? What are those shapes lying on that slope? A small herd of buffalo. Sleeping it seems. We didn't go that far, sir. We turned back when we saw them. The wind has shifted a bit.

Take a deep breath, Mr. Cohel. Yes, sir. Smell anything? No, sir. Take another deep breath, Mr. Cohel. Get it in your nostrils and tell me if what you smell is sleeping buffalo. No sir. Smells like dead men.

They're not freshly killed. Lieutenant Grasham and his squad sir? I imagine so. The men we've come to find. We'll make sure after nightfall. Mr. Cohill, there are several fairly obvious differences between the great planes and a classroom at West Point.