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.
One big warrior had managed to dismount on the flank and he was in range with his Henry and now was pouring fire into the hated white eyes, singing his war chant even as he fired and levered and fired. He might have been less confident if he only knew that he was presenting his back to the pair of scouts in the brush. And they were in range of him too.
MacIntosh had barely made it back to the top when the shooting began explode from a number of different areas. The Indians, left their ponies to fight on foot, which of course did not discount another charge. Ke-Ni-Tay wasn't shooting, but scouring the back side of the hill for any activity, both being sure that it would be tried.
MacIntosh cast a searching eye over what could be called the battlefield. The Indians were flaking where they could, hopping to gain the upper hand. It was then he saw the Indian with the Henry, the shiny brass receiver standing out, MacIntosh's Winchester came up as he levered a shell into the breach took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled and he worked the lever again, but the slug had found it's mark in the warriors throat. A bit low, but effective.
MacIntosh smiled. “Well sir, Ke-Ni-Tay is up there, on his own, so I’ll be heading back to help if need be. I’m well aware of the risks, but we both are of the opinion the red devils’ll send some that way. “Shootin’ down’s a lot easier than shootin’ up, Cap’n. We’ll be okay. Best we cover every option they have.”
It was not the Army’s job to protect the scouts, but in a fight like this one, covering everything and everyplace one could simply made sense. he turned and disappeared into the foliage as he scampered up the knoll where the Apache waited, all but hidden in the brush. MacIntosh hunkered down quickly to wait.
Now looking for MacIntosh, he was just yards off, he called out, "Good choice of ground, Mr. MacIntosh! Can you see to it that our guest, Mr. Crabbe, is provided with something to shoot with just in case. Oh, and no shooting unless I give the order. The Indians are going to have to start this ball."
“I can!” He called back, not happy to have to give Crabbe his revolver, But if it came to the need if the pistol he would be in dire straights anyway, and the Indians would have overrun them.
“Crabbe, here!” He called to the man, “It’s loaded so be careful.” He tossed the Army Colt to him. There was something about the man he disliked, but then, there were not a whole lot of men not in uniform that he did like.
“They come straight on, not send others around yet!” Ke Ni Tay stated.. The key word being ‘yet.’ Because the chances were that the Indianans would try to flank the troopers. The best way would be to get some up high, where MacIntosh and the Apache were, and, they there were enough warriors, send some around. The Troopers would surely be able to halt the first attack.
"Right!" MacIntosh wheeled his horse and the pair raced off. there was a place back a ways, just at a curve where a cave in of the embankment would proved some cover and had looked to be a defensible position.
There were there in minutes, and relieved that the Indians had not left a few braves behind the gun runners to prevent their escape, should it come to that. As MacIntosh rode into plain sight and waved his rifle over his head, Ke Ni Tay scrambled up the embankment to offer cover fire for the soldiers retreating.
"Well, I believe those are Mercier's customers, Mr. MacIntosh," Benjamin calmly declared.
“You ain’t far from wrong on that ‘un, Captain!” MacIntosh stated. This did not look good.
They were still well out of range so the officer had time yet to come to his choice of tactical options. Retreat or stand. Whatever, he was not going to show worry, that would be noticed by the troopers.
“Was it me I’d fire them wagons an’ light out. They got horses tied on them wagons, so they can run for it as well. Reckon them Injuns’ll be in a scalpin’ mood. Amma’nition in their hands is as bad as new carbines!” Was MacIntosh’s advice. "Them coal oil lamps on them wagons an' a match'll do jest fine!"
MacIntosh looked on, smiling, with an occasional glace at a stoic Ke Na Tay. Once Mercer hit the ground and the Captain had his say MacIntosh leaned a bit forward in the saddle and said, "Now I ain't no businessman neither Cap'n. Not hardly. I reckon we best find out where he was planning to meet up with the Injuns, they'll be plenty sore when he don't show."
Then he sat back, his saddle creaking lightly, looked to his partner and back to the Captain. "Was we to locate an ant hill, I figure Ki Na Tay here could find out right pronto anything you'd like to know, well 'less Mercer here jest comes clean on his own." Apaches were known for their odd, if not inhumane sense of humor, and that just might loosen the man's tongue.
MacIntosh took a long drink, and promptly spit it out spit it out. “That ain’t fit for nothin’ ‘cept perhaps a coal oil replacement. Doubt them Injuns use oi lamps.” He gave Mercer a long hard look. “Reckon this fella and his friends were figurin’ on starting some real trouble for white folks hereabouts.”
There were just two things MacIntosh couldn’t abide, selling guns and or whiskey of any sort to Indians, especially hostiles. There were things he’d learned from both the Apaches and the Pimas that these men were qualified for, but he doubted the Captain would be willing to use any of those things, no matter how deserving the men were.
With the two escapees in tow, MacIntosh and Ke Na Tay rode up to the wagons. "Cap'n," he greeted, "Whatcha got there? new made Henry's? Bet they fetch a purtty price." He looked up at the man on the wagon seat. "You boys trade for scalps and the like, 'er injun wimmen to mistreat."
It was a gamble insulting them, but he didn't care. Maybe they'd go for their guns, maybe not. These boys sold white folks lives with those rifles. "These two here," He jerked his thumb at the two, "they weren't real happy to come back this way."
Just as they had expected, his point riders wee making a run for it. But MacIntosh and Ke Ni Tay sat their horse just out of sight of the two rides headed for them as fast as their horses would run.
At the right moment both scouts bolted forward, their horses headed directly at to two point riders, Ke Na Tay taking the outside while MacIntosh use d an old tactic of ramming the other horse, actually move of a side swipe with jam of his boot to the leg of the rider, or the horses flank.
With a blood curdling war whoop, Ke Na Tay sprang from his mount and tore the man from his saddle, the two toppling to the ground and rolling a short distance before the Apache went to hit him, but the man was out cold. Had this been another time in another place, he would have slit the mans throat.
"Gonna hurt yourself doin' that one day." MacIntosh stated. "You, drop your gun nice an easy like." MacIntosh had the other one covered with his pistol.
"What the Sam Hell you think your doin' Mister? And what 's that Apache doin' up here?" The man asked.
"Why we didn't want you two to miss whats goin' on back at yer wagons when the Captain see's what yer haulin. And him? Whatever he wants." As Macintosh answered the man's questions the Indian jerked his prey to his feet.
"You mount up," He said as he took the man's pistol. "You try anything, you not see sunset." With that, he remounted his horse. Moments later the foursome was headed back to where the wagons were.
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.
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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