Benjamin smiled at the colonel's assessment of MacIntosh and his Indian, "I've always found them quite capable. Also they are the only scouts we have here at Fort Somer."
The army never liked to spend a lot of money hiring civilians and plus most scouts of that sort were with the various columns and detachments chasing the Sioux and Cheyenne in revenge for Custer.
MacKenzie then addressed the small detachment, needless to say they listened but made no reply. As for veteran sergeant Braumann he simply nodded to the man's compliment, "Yessir, thank you, sir."
Then the commander turned to shake Barlows hand, wishing him good luck in their hunt.
"Yes sir, we'll do our damnedest," Benjamin wasn't about to make any bold promises. There were no guarantees.
Soon the small detachment was riding on down the road, the same road the two deserters had taken during the night escape. Now, officially, the chase was on.
It was no easy thing to take down a buck with an arrow, and Ke-Na-Tay knew he would have to follow the wounded animal into the brush and trees to finish the kill, which is what the Apache did, with McIntosh both in hot pursuit of the buck. This was the second that day and with it, once it was dressed and loaded on the pack mule they were headed back to the fort with the two carcasses unaware of what had transpired, or that they would be needed in the search for the deserters.
Originally they had thought to hunt a buffalo, but there were hostiles still out, both large and small bands and they too would be hunting the great shaggy beasts, so they decided to play it safe, as safe as bow hunting deer could be in those times. Meat was meat after all as both the Indian and the white man needed meat to eat.
With the deer dressed out and loaded on the none to happy pack mule, the pair headed back to the post, ever vigilant for any sign of the Sioux or Cheyenne who may be in the area, though the closer to the fort they got, the less chance of trouble. They were stopped at the gate and told what had happened and that a patrol was out looking for the two deserters and they were to catch up and join them as fast as they could.
Reluctantly they turned over the pack mule to the sentry on duty and got a promise of some saved steaks for them when they got back. Not as good as fresh cooked venison, but that was not as important as catching up to the patrol, and setting out in search of the deserters. The pair thundered out after the patrol at a full gallop.
It really didn't take the scouts too long to catch up with the detachment. Barlow had rode into town to check to see if anyone had seen the two men within the environs. They talked to several folk and no one recalled any uniformed soldiers about. One old woman said there was just this handsome blond young officer who limped about frequently with.....her voice had assumed a rather hushed shocked tone ...with one of those saloon hussies. Benjamin dismissed that report, it was Greene still on his 'unofficial' mission. It did seem though the hospital would go up with no attacks from any outsiders.
Realizing this was a waste of time, he then led the troopers out again and resumed their ride along the road.Too many horses and wagons took the road was the big problem. Almost impossible to track the deserters if they were on it.
It was about then that mens' heads turned and sure enough here came MacIntosh and Ke-Na-Tay thundering up. He halted the detachment and waited for them to pull up next to him.
"Gentlemen, sorry to ruin your hunting expedition but we have need of your services," he greeted the veteran scout and nodded toward the Indian.
"Not Indian trouble this time though. But last night we had two deserters leave the fort. Before they went, they murdered the sentry, stabbed him to death. Also stole their horses. We know who they are but no idea where they are going," he made his briefing short and to the point.
"We delivered a pair of bucks to the post. Appears then, we'll miss out on the venison but if they don't run onto a war party we'll find 'em." McIntosh said confidently. "So they headd they direction? Or yer not sure just the most likely? Wouldn't look to KAlispell, be real foolish for 'em to head there."
McIntosh realized that the men would likely still be in uniform, unless of course, they had some civilian clothes to change into, but McClellan saddles? Dead giveaway, as the Army didn't give their gear away they used and repaired it until it was useless. Pulse their arms would be Army issue as well.
"Either of 'em any good out'n the wild? Maybe they'll stick to the trails if they ain't." He added wondering just what kind of men these were, other than stupid enough to think they could get away clean with murder and desertion hanging over them, no town would not be a good idea at all.
"Right now we aren't sure what direction they headed in. If they have stuck to the road, there are so many horse tracks, not sure we will even know," Benjamin replied.
"Well, we did check out the town, hoping maybe they were fool enough to stop there but apparently not."
"Either of 'em any good out'n the wild? Maybe they'll stick to the trails if they ain't," MacIntosh asked.
"Not sure, I do not know them personally. Sergeant, you know much about either trooper?" Barlow turned to his veteran NCO.
"Both come from east of Mississippi. Both were lazy at their duties. Pvt. Thurlow is bad tempered," then the sergeant shrugged, that was about it.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Miles Away
The two deserters had avoided the town, they were tempted to stop at a local farm or ranch but decided against that too. Right now they needed to get as far away from the fort as they could. Neither had any doubt that the army would come after them. The killing made sure of that if nothing else. But suddenly Thurlow pulled up, ahead he spotted what could well be a golden opportunity. A single rider. Gazing about he saw no one else in sight. It was a cowboy and he was just all by his lonesome.
"Looky there, Henry. That cowpoke....I bet he has got himself a gun or two. We could always use more ya know," he grinned.
"Like me a rifle alright," his longtime comrade nodded. Right now they just the Sharps carbine taken from the dead sentry and their own sidearm Army colts.
Both knew most cowboys carried magazine rifles like Winchesters or Henrys, better equipped than the US army.
"Let's go and say howdy," Thurlow urged his horse to trot in the direction of their target. It should be easy, smile, be friendly, and then make the first move. The stupid cowpoke won't ever know what hit him.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Hap Benyon let his horse walk along the trail. His eyes were focused down and to the side of his horse as he tried to pick out the tracks in the dirt. His Winchester's butt rested on his thigh in case the wolf was closer than he thought. Hap had been following this trail for over two hours now since he had come across that dead calf in one of the pastures. The other cattle had dashed away and Hap knew he would have to go looking for them once he had taken down this wolf.
He heard a noise ahead and looked up to see two riders slowly approaching. He felt a momentary surge of worry before he realized it was a couple of soldiers. They were a long way from Fort Somers, but Hap never claimed to understand the Army. He reined up and let his rifle rest across his arms as they approached. They were probably lost and wanted to ask how to get to Kalispell, so Hap waited...
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Thurlow looked calm and even happy to see the lone cowpoke, which in a way was true. He wanted that gun! As they closed, he unsnapped his military holster before the man could even see that minor detail. He planned on making the first move and that was all that would be needed.
"Hey there! Good to see another white man's face!" he called out with a big grin when they got to talking distance but the troopers didn't stop til they were only five feet or so from the other man.
"You didn't happen to see any Injuns about? Or even smoke signals or such?"
Let the man think they were scouts out searching for those varmints. That was til it was too late.
"Both come from east of Mississippi. Both were lazy at their duties. Pvt. Thurlow is bad tempered," then the sergeant shrugged, that was about it.
"Not much to go on but we'll strike out to see what there might be for any sign of them," McIntosh said, hoping that he could garner some thoughts of what the pair of deserters might do, but it seemed clear they were country boys, and getting off the trail would be a natural thing for them.
Ke-Na-Tay stood waiting, having his own ideas about the situation. If they were not in town, which he found to be a wise move, then there would be food to secure as he doubted they had thought much about that. Water would be no problem. They were armed, which would mean they could, with luck, bring down game, or more likely raid a farm, depending on their direction which the white officer seemed unsure of.
They would be easy to track, Army poneys always were. Perhaps in the manner in which they were shod was the giveaway, but he had never found it difficult. They needed to be out tracking instead of all of this talk.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Benyon waited as they approached. "Good to see any faces out here, I reckon..." The Lost Lake hand listened as the troopers got closer. "Indians? Not any recently. Can't say as I've seen any on this part of the range since I've been here..." Benyon's eyes did widen at that point. "Wait, why? Has something happened around here? Are the Indians causing trouble like they did at the Black Hills?" Benyon reflexively looked around where the three horses sat, suddenly concerned there might be red devils behind every tree...