The man shrugged and grinned wryly. "Feet ain't too good. But I'm makin' it, fast as I can."
"Can you fork a mule?" Drew asked. "This one is for ridin'. We'll take you to one of the wagons—"
"Now that's right kind of you boys, right kind." The man hobbled up to Hannibal as if he feared they might withdraw their offer. "Say, you hungry? Git us wheah we can light a spell, an' I'll divide my rations with you." He waved the musket with its impaled ham.
"Maybe we'll do jus' that," Kirby promised.
Drew dismounted to give the straggler a leg up on Hannibal before they headed on toward the Tennessee and the promise of a breathing space.
15
Independent Scout
"What did the doc say?" Kirby, his blue overcoat a splotch of color against the general drabness of the winter scene, came up towing Hannibal and his own mount.
"Doesn't think he should try it." Drew made a lengthy business of pulling on the knitted gloves he had acquired only that morning as a swap for a captured Yankee Colt.