"Well, Mr. Cantrell, you are a civilian so I cannot issue you orders but you might as well join us in winkling these bastards out of that farm. Another gun might come in handy," Barlow answered Quentin's question.

About a hundred yards from the beginning of the farm fields, Barlow ordered the detachment to dismount. A few men were told off as horse holders but the remaining had pulled their Sharps carbines from their sheaths and broke into a skirmish line. The rancher was next to him, Benjamin drew his Army revolver, no carbine for him, his job was commanding not firing. He had seen MacIntosh swing off to give them eyes on the Indians but he had no idea what the Indian was doing. A perfect example of Indians doing whatever they wanted to do in his humble opinion. Still they were civilians, though they took the Army pay.

Upon a closer examination of the farmhouse itself, it was small, whoever made was at best a satisfactory carpenter. One window but wooden shutters now were closed behind it with a rifle slit for both protected vision and firing from. The door was closed and no doubt barred from the inside. Plus sharp eyes might make out a few more small firing ports for defense too. Of course the biggest weakness from Indian attack was the roof and vulnerability to fire. In all honesty a war party would make short work of this makeshift fortified home. These farmers were sure optimistic. But now two of them were lying sprawled dead in the fields. The farmhouse seemed deserted.

Barlow didn't believe that for a minute.

"Alright, lets spread out, gentlemen. Do not fire unless I give the order. See if we can spot tethered horses, US army horses," he half smiled.

The troopers began to fan out. That's when a shot erupted, a sharp crack and a puff of smoke from the firing port of the window. The shot went over their heads but still self preservation made everyone crouch to their knees or fall prone completely. Barlow knelt.

That was not a Sharp's carbine, he knew the sound of those very well from long experience.

The door opened only enough then to better allow whoever was inside to call out and be better heard.

"You took long enough to catch us, boys! But we are gonna have to decline yer invitation to go on back with ya!"

Most of the troopers recognized the voice alright.  It was Thurlow. And where Thurlow was, certainly Callison was present in too, had to be inside that same cabin.

"It's not an invitation, you two are going back with us, dead or alive! Don't make much difference to me!" Benjamin called out as loudly as he could.

***

At the sound of that shot, MacIntosh could now see some commotion amongst the Indians and then three of them began to ride in their direction. The rest of the party remained where they were.

ooc: Ok, stuff's happening. Don't go too fast or try to do too much. :)

Quentin fell flat at the shot, both hands holding his Winchester. He crawled further behind a roll in the ground. He settled in behind his rifle and aimed at the window, then he paused.

"Barlow! You think there's a woman inside with them?" He was reluctant to shoot blindly if someone innocent was inside.

As expected the two deserters were not going to give up, Barlow never thought they would. They were not good soldiers and even worse human beings but they were smart enough to know they were either going to get away or die trying or die by hanging.

The door closed and right after another shot rang out. That zinged by much closer to the troopers but still missed. Cantrell asked if there might be a woman in that farmhouse. Benjamin shrugged, "Hell if I know."

"Open fire!" he now called out. A few of the troopers fired immediately, one or two a few seconds after. Bullets thudded into the door and the wood covered window.From one of the slits in the front wall, a rifle barrel barely poked out and fired. Now that was a Sharps carbine.

"Fire at will!" Barlow told his men but already he was thinking of how to storm this house. The odds that they'd shoot both defenders in that kind of cover was very slim, have to be a real lucky shot. Possibly get around and see what the back looks like. Most likely the place had to have a back door too, maybe a back window but both would be fortified and/or barred. Even if they did have a battering ram, which they did not, anyone foolish enough to rush that close were bound to take losses. He was not going to throw away his soldiers lives for these bastards.

He himself did not fire his revolver, useless at this range, besides it wasn't an officer's place to engage like a private. He was supposed to command. Maybe they could exhaust the defender's ammo? Course how would they even know that?

***

As for MacIntosh, that trio of Indians were making a steady pace toward them, now within a good seventy yards. He could see the one in the center was a formidable looking fellow, a warrior in his prime but he was cradling his weapon, a Henry, as he rode. On either side another warrior, though one looked like a very young one. Maybe a youth on his first war party........or hunting party? They were not exactly attacking like any Indian attack he'd ever seen before. And the rest of that twenty or more party were still sitting on the ridge. These three would be in shouting range in a few seconds.

Cantrell settled in behind his Winchester and fired at the house. He aimed high a bit, chewing some wood from the upper edge of the window frame that the barrel was poking out of. He fired again to keep anyone inside from taking their time with aiming. He raised his head and looked over at Barlow.

"What if the wife is still inside the cabin? I doubt we'll be considered heroes if they end up shot by us during the fight..."

The shots were flying fast and furious now. Most of the troopers didn't really aim much other than hope to hit the damn building as they saw no real proper targets, like a man's face or more. The cabin was instead peppered with rounds. The rancher fired then turned to Benjamin.

"What if the wife is still inside the cabin? I doubt we'll be considered heroes if they end up shot by us during the fight..."

"You got a point but I see no way around it. Walking up there with a white flag to parley is not going to work. We could try to burn the place down I reckon," Barlow figured the family had already been wiped out, least those two unfortunates sprawled in the field were.

"We just got to hope someone gets a few lucky shots and takes our two deserters down," he knew it was an unlikely occurrence but he was not about to rush the cabin. Sure some men would get to the building but he was not willing to see any of his troopers killed or wounded if he could help it.

"Plus we got those damn Indians to worry about," even as he said it, Barlow looked back. MacIntosh was facing three mounted warriors now, they appeared to be talking. Well, better than shooting.

****

The trio of Indians finally pulled up about ten yards short of the lone white man. He was not dressed as a soldier. But he was with them. The white eyes were having some fight of their own not that far off. Much shooting at the building.

The Indian in the middle of the trio now raised one hand in the air and spoke.

"I be Wolf Head. What are name of you?"  he wasn't smiling but he didn't seem angry either.

As the firing continued not that far from this odd conversation, the Indians kept glancing toward the farmhouse and its angry white eyes.

"What is going there? Bluecoats in new war?" 

****

"Son of a bitch!" one trooper yelled, his hat had just been shot off his head. Not only him but the man next to him went even lower, flat onto the ground, that had been a close one.

Barlow snapped, "Keep firing! The firing port, aim at the firing port!"

  There were two rifles firing though, one from a small slit in the front wall to the other side of the door.

"If we have to, I'm gonna stay here til we starve those bastards out," he informed the rancher. Assuming the Indians didn't butt in on this mess. Hopefully MacIntosh could convince them the soldiers were not here as a threat. By now the veteran officer was quite sure these Indians were not a part of the same Indians that had defeated both Crook and Custer this summer.