three in the morning
But it was after eleven when Kennedy drove his still wearied horse through the Platte and , far to the north , saw the dun dust cloud that told where Webb 's little column was trotting hard to the support of the sorrels . His head was aching and he missed the morning draught of soldier coffee . He had eaten nothing since his cold lunch at the major 's , and would have been wise had he gone to Mistress McGann and begged a cup of the fragrant Java with which she had stimulated her docile master ere he rode forth , but the one idea uppermost in Kennedy 's muddled brain was that the sorrels were trapped by the Sioux and every trooper was needed to save them . At three in the morning he felt equal to fighting the whole Sioux nation , with all its dozen tribes and dialects . At 3:30 he had been whipped to a stand by just one of their number , and , `` Mother av Moses , '' one that spoke English as well , or as ill , as any man in the -- th . Sore in soul and body was Kennedy , and sore and stiff was his gallant bay , Kilmaine , when these comrades of over three years ' service shook the spray of the Platte from their legs and started doggedly northward on the trail . Northward they went for full three miles , Kilmaine sulky and protesting .