This boy, this soldier is my
The general tries to console him in a poor way.
Sorry, but we are at war, Sergeant
The sergeant ignores the statement and calls two soldiers.
Not with my people, bury him. Standby
at the grave, I want to say a few
words over him.
The Cherokee soldiers pick up the body and carry him away. Watie turns and speaks to the Captain of the remaining column.
Keep your company here for a
south guard. Watch close,
Union troops are in the area.
The Captain nods with a military baring.
He turns to his three hundred men that sit ready on their cavalry mounts.
Post the guard!
The soldiers take their guard positions. When they stop they all go to rifles and sabers ready.
The North Company’s horses are fidgeting and snorting. A single horse's hooves are heard on the trail.
Stan Watie looks.
Hold your positions. Let him pass.
An unidentifiable Cherokee Confederate Major (Whitekiller) rides fast from the northeast and past the north guard. He