As for Van Alstyne, he now had a chance to acquaint Major Stillman more fully with the facts regarding the Sac messengers and their flag of truce.
“So the Hawk sent us an ultimatum?” chortled Stillman, as he ushered the Captain into his tent.
“Yes, Major,” smiled Van Alstyne, “the red upstart says it’s either get out, or he’ll put you out.”
“I don’t envy him his job, Captain. My men are spoiling for a fight with these Sac butchers. It will be as easy for us as sticking pigs.”
“Why, of course it will, Stillman. That red trash can’t stand up to white soldiers. What rot!”
“You’re quite right, especially a picked force such as I have. Crack shots, every one of them, and bold as bears.”
“They look to be a hardy breed,” observed the Captain.
“That they are. Not the kind of men who will scare easily, or turn tail at the whiz of the first arrow. I dare say that any one of them could whip three Sacs in a hand to hand fracas.”
“Ha! I only wish, Major, that the Sac roustabouts would try an attack on this camp.”
“Not a chance, sir,” scoffed Stillman. “Our position is too strong for them to risk an assault.”