Tracking, reading sign, knowledge of the red man. Rifle shot.
Aliases / Nicknames
On post, wherever assigned.
Kith & Kin
Served with the 7th Michigan Cavalry, F Troop during the war.
At wars end he served as a civilian scout in several theaters in the west, first in the Southwest with the First Cavalry, then to the plains with elements of the 7th U.S. and back again to serve with the 9th and 10th.
Arrived in Mizzoula on orders to join Brittles command.
There was a crease like opening between the rolling hills, not wide enough for a wagon to pass unobstructed, but plenty wide enough for two men or horseback waiting to attack. This was something that they had done in many different situation over the years they rode together.
They did not talk, because there was not need of exchange between them. Both knew what the other would do, and that was sufficient. when the two horsemen approached, they would storm out of hiding, if the men went for their weapons, they would kill them, as simple as that.
Now all they had to do was wait. The troop would do their job.
MacIntosh looked to Ke Ni Tay and back. "Should be enough time to get in place." Prob'ly more than then needed, but better to have more time than not enough, Sir." He touched the brim of his hat and the two scouts wheeled their horse and galloped off to where they would lay in wait.
Ke Ni Tay was smiling, he liked ambushes and the surprise of the ones ambushed. The initial fear of what was happening. One thing about the Apache, he was patient. Racing across the flat he looked to MacIntosh knowing he felt the same, because he felt the same.
"Frankly if they run, assume they'll resist so take 'em down anyway you need to. Just don't let'em get away. Understood?"
“Yes’sir. Clear and understood, they won’t get away. Figger we came at them from what’d be their front, give us a better chance of not having to give chase.” Not that it would really matter, they would be ready, Winchesters cocked, with the idea that they would likely have to shoot the riders. Men selling guns to the hostiles knew they would hang for it, if they weren’t stood aginst the post wall and shot. They had done this or something similar before.
“Anything else, Sir?” MacIntosh asked
Ke Ni Tay looked at MacIntosh, then to Crabbe and the Captain, understanding exactly what was happening, an amused look in his black eyes.
"So Cap'n, whenever you have a plan, we'll be ready. We can ride out again and keep an eye on 'em." The scout offered. "Doubt that much will change in the next few hours." The place where the wagons were, and some distance on, would not be a good place for anything other than an poorly planned ambush. And from what he had seen, an ambush might take out the whites, but getting to the wagons would be another story all together.
"Very well, I see then, Mr. MacIntosh. Good to know," Benjamin was mostly satisfied now that he knew a bit more of the details. A buffalo hunter? Well, they and the Indians seldom would ever get along so the man would probably be telling the truth, not wanting to hide the Indians from the army.
“Be my thought.” MacIntosh responded matter of factly.
"I just hope your man is alright out there on his own. Myself, I never like to send out any trooper on his lonesome. Too many bad things can happen. However, he is an Indian, so hopefully he can handle himself," he addressed the scout.
“Ki Na Tay is wiley, and has a knack for avoiding detection, but woe to the man that sees him. He’s got a real taste for the plains Indians, they aren’t like his Mimbreño brothers, or any other Apache. They fight differently, live differently, of which he uses to his advantage.”
"Let's keeping moving, leastwise for a few hours more, then we will camp. Mr. MacIntosh, if you would be so kind, go see if you can find a suitable camping spot up ahead, thank you.”
“Certainly, Captain.” Was the response as MacIntosh wheeled his horse, recalling a defensible position about an hour ahead, with a stream close by.
"Oh and take along two of my troopers. Sergeant!"
"Yessir, captain?" the heavily bearded NCO was quick to reply .
"Detail two troopers to accompany Mr. MacIntosh. Make it crystal clear to them, he is in charge. They are along for the ride," Benjamin directed.
"Yessir, captain! " came the almost instant response.
MacIntosh really felt no need of an escort, or whatever it was called, but he wasn’t about to buck the Captain over it. If he could, he’d slip away later and try to locate Ke Ni Tay, then ride back for the troop with whatever information the Apache learned.
“Say, MacIntosh. This Klinzing feller. Did he have a moustache and wear a big hat?” asked Crabbe with an air of faint recognition of the name.
“Hell Crabbe, hardly a man in the Territory without a mustache, his hat? Could be big I ‘spose. Fairly beat up.”
"Yes, speaking of the man. Who is this Klinzing anyhow? So you just stumbled onto him out there?" questioned the officer.
"Buffalo Hunter, he said, and dressed like one. Seemed to know about the man, well men we’re looking for, and where Black Kettle’s village was. ‘Course, a man aimin’ to keep his hair would be likely to keep track of the Indians in the area."
“We spotted him from atop a hill. He was well below us, but he saw us alright, a man out here ain’t likely to miss a couple men higher up, especially with one who’s obviously out of place in these parts.”
“Ke-Ni-Tay’s fine, gone on ahead following Joseph Klinzing’s directions. Can’t be sure this is it, but from what he told us, there were three men and a wagon. Said that if we headed that way,” he pointed in the direction he had come, then off a bit to the east, “to a bluff just below a creek where we would be able to see what he said was Black Kettle’s village."
He was cautious, he didn’t know this Mister Klinzing, was not sure he could be trusted, or that he might be a scout for the three with the wagon. Then again, the man could well be yelling the truth. Ke-Ni Tay would have those answers before the column ever reached the supposed bluff.
“We’ll surely let the Captain know. Been most helpful Mister Klinzing, most helpful.” MacIntosh said. “Time we were movin’. Good day to ya an’ thanks again."
As they mounted up and turned away, they started back up the slope. "Once he’s moved on, I’ll head for the column and you head the way he said those men went. See what you can find out.” There was no need to tell the Apace to be careful, or to not be seen That would be second nature to him, and he knew what was at stake.
Ke-Ni-Tay smiled thinly. He knew what to do, he would look for the wagon tracks, tracks that should be deep due to the load, unless whatever he was trading, guns or whiskey, or both, was hidden on the back trail
Once the buffalo hunter was a ways off, Ke-Ni-Tay moved off and MacIntosh rode for the column with the information supplied at a gallop. The sooner the troop was notified the better, then he could head back they he'd come. Ke-Ni-Tay would need no help.
Reaching the column he reined in. "Captain. Think we've got a lead on the village and the traders."
Both MacIntosh and Ke-Ni-Tay listened to the directions the man gave looking to one another as they often did when receiving information or direction to ensure both were on the same page.
When it came to the part about the Crow, MacItosh smiled. “That’s what I’ve heard. So naturally I was some skeptical about them being out as well. But rumors tend to fly when hostiles are mentioned. Besides, my experience has been, with the Apache, they are not opposed to fighting one another, nor scouting for the white man, and fighting him at the same time. So nothing about the red man surprises me. I would suppose it’s the same with the plains Indians.”
He shifted his feet, looking down, then back up. “Appreciate the information. We’ll take it back to the column and go from there.”
“Be grateful if you’d pont us in the right direction. Like to ferret out what’s goin’ on. Meanin’ they may well be just traders, or, they might just be who we’re lookin’ for.” MacIntosh stated. "There’s rumblin’s the Sioux ain’t perticularly happy these days, and some of their cousins, like the Cheyenne, Arapaho, maybe the Crow. If that’s true, well, could be a real bad sign, an’ the last thing needed is some fool tradin’ gun an’ whiskey to ‘em.”
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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