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Then the war.... The withdrawal of the army, the invasion of Sibley’s Confederate forces which had reached this far in the persons of Howard’s Arizona Rangers—and most of all the raiding, vicious, deadly, and continual, by Apaches and outlaws—had blasted Tubacca. Now, in the fall of 1866, it was a third of what it had been, with a ragged fringe of dilapidated adobes crumbling back into the soil.
The Armada was a great and clumsy giant, from which Lord Howard’s much smaller fleet had not fled in terror, as had been expected, and which now was in such a condition that there was nothing left for it but to try and return to Spain. But the getting there was not easy. A return through the Channel was hindered by the wind, which blew strongly from the south.
An’ seem’ as how they was only one company hereabouts—Howard’s Rangers—they didn’t try. That’s when Johnny Shannon had his big bust-up with his pa an’—" "His father!" Drew could not help that exclamation. "Wal, Don Cazar ain’t Johnny’s real pa, o’ course. But he shore thinks th’ world an’ all of Johnny, raising him up from a li’l cub.
Paying no attention to Lord Howard’s ships, the Armada moved on with dignity up the Channel, its purpose being to disperse the Dutch and English ships off the Netherland coast and escort to England the Duke of Parma’s army, then ready to sail. Lord Howard deemed it wisest to pursue a guerilla mode of warfare, harassing the Spaniards and taking any advantage that offered.
Or Lieutenant? Johnny Shannon—now he was a lieutenant with Howard’s Rangers." Callie gave Drew a shrewd measuring look. "Sergeant." Drew corrected automatically and then asked: "How did you know I’d been in the army?" "Well, you wear them two shootin’ irons army style, belted high an’ butt to front. Must use a flip-hand draw as do all th’ hoss soldiers.
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