Neither MacIntosh nor Ke-Ni-Tay would skyline themselves in hostile territory, that went without saying. They had confront the plains Indians before and had no illusions about fighting them. They were different that the Apache in that way, but so was the landscape.
Not firing the first shot was the policy that usually left one trooper dead, however, they were scouts, and if attacked, which would be highly likely in any event, the column would have advanced warning. He and Ke-Ni-Tay would be on their own, unless they could get back to the column.
They had a long way to go, and a lot of hard country to travel in search of the Sioux encampment. If this band was out, then they too would have scouts and those were the ones MacIntosh and Ke-Ni-Tay would likely encounter, if not then perhaps locating the village would be easier.
Whether or not Captain Barlow chose to arm their supposed guide, that was his decision to make, and other than one more man prepared to fight, it would make no difference to either of the forward scouts.
Benjamin finished up his basic instructions to the two scouts, he figured none of it was something they didn't already know but it never hurt to let them know his expectations. The pair were civilians so technically he couldn't order them to do much of anything but they did get paid by the US government. He had no doubt they'd do what was necessary.
“Say, Cap, don’t you think you should give me a shootin’ iron to tote, 'case trouble does break out? I ain’t the greatest shot in the world, but ‘every little helps’, as they say.”
"We are not out here to engage the Indians, merely talk to them. Our objective is finding this gun running Grandfather of yours. Now as for giving you a gun, if we need your help at any time, Mr. Crabbe, then I'll give you one. Until then, the answer is 'no'," the captain answered calmly enough.
With that the expedition continued onward in a general easterly direction, the pair of scouts breaking off from the main body to take the lead at a reasonable distance. The terrain was a mix of rolling hills and ridgelines some covered with patches of trees. It was beautiful pristine country and a part of Benjamin wondered how long it would stay that way as more and more waves of settlers came west as part of the great expansion of this nation. The Indians might not know it but their way of life was dying. They had no chance to stop this relentless progress though of course they tried. Benjamin didn't blame them either but he was paid to fight them if they resisted. So be it.
*****
It was late afternoon when the scouts chanced upon the first glimpse of another human being. Down by a shallow meandering creek a long figure was filling his canteen even as his horse slurped down some of the cool creekwater. Two mules stood just off, maybe too stubborn to drink or maybe they'd already quenched their own thirst. Heaped upon their backs were some sort of goods or supplies, impossible to tell at that distance. The man appeared to be a white man, though dressed in buckskins apparently. Thus far he had not noticed the two men watching him. Or at least gave no indication of it.
"We are not out here to engage the Indians, merely talk to them. Our objective is finding this gun running Grandfather of yours. Now as for giving you a gun, if we need your help at any time, Mr. Crabbe, then I'll give you one. Until then, the answer is 'no'," the captain answered calmly enough.
“Well, if I find myself having my scalp raised by an Indian anytime on this trail, I‘ll be sure to inform that gentleman that we’re only here to talk, and that he should desist immediately and offer me a written apology!” replied the civilian with an air of amused irony rather than any kind of bitter sarcasm. All in all, the man appeared to be quite happy to be on this little jaunt rather than being dragged along kicking and screaming.
He pulled a cigar holder out of a pocket and nudging Greedy nearer to the Captain’s horse, and held out the box “Smoke?” he enquired with remarkable bonhomie in the circumstances.
He looked idly at the country they were travelling through, though his goggle-eyed spectacles, and then back at the line of men following them.
“Fine bunch o’ soldiers, Captain, fine bunch indeed. I feel mighty safe with those boys behind me.” He stated, a propos of nothing.
Then, as if to while away the time, he asked “You know much about MacIntosh, Cap?”
"Maybe trapper." Ke-Ni-Tay stated flatly as they watched the man, passing the glass back and forth between them.
Bundles on the mules did not appear to be the shape of rifle crates, though both realized that they could be disguised easily enough, or rifles could be packed individually and covered with other shaped bundles or boxes. That of course did not allow for delivery of many guns.
Whiskey, of course, could also be disguised by different shaped containers that would not draw much attention, so the Apache and MacIntosh viewed this man as possibly the man they were in search of.
The older scout spied the man with the glass, then collapsed it, still looking at the man. then he looked to the Apache. "I don't see him as gun runner, but best we have a parlay with him. Be surprised if he ain't already smelled us."
There was a grunt of agreement from the Mimbreño. so they shimmied back down the slight rise of maybe three feet.
"He knows we there, no surprise for him." Both men mounted and slipped over the rise into the open, the man turning at the sound. MacIntosh raised his arm in greeting as the two approached. The Apache startled him for a moment.
"Howdy." MacIntosh greeted. "Mind if we step down? Don't mind the Indian, he's peaceable."
Storyteller / Shared NPC
NPC: Joseph Klinzing | Written by Flip
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
MacIntosh was right, Joseph Klinzing knew he was being watched even if he hadn't let on. But his eyesight was still excellent and one of the riders he had spotted in his peripheral vision was surely a white man. Somehow he doubted the pair closing the distance with him were out to do him harm. But just in case he cradled his buffalo gun then turned when a voice addressed him.
Howdy." MacIntosh greeted. "Mind if we step down? Don't mind the Indian, he's peaceable."
Speaking of Indians, that redskin didn't look like any one from any tribe in the entire territory? Joseph answered the man first.
"Good day to you gents. Sure, help yerself, it's a big creek," he smiled.
He slowly moved then to put his horse between the men and him, just in case he was wrong on his feelings about this here meeting.
He slowly moved then to put his horse between the men and him, just in case he was wrong on his feelings about this here meeting.
“No need to worry, friend, we’re scouting for the Army, lookin’ for a man that roams these parts. Got no real name for him, Sioux call him ‘Grandfather,’ or some such.” MacIntosh began, “Seems the fella deals in guns and whiskey, or that’s the rumor. Makes the Indians more dangerous to everyone in these parts.”
As MacIntosh spoke, Ke-Ni-Tay watched the surrounding hills in the event that they too were being watched. It was supposedly a long trek to the Two Kettles camp, but that didn’t mean that a party, either hunting or war might not be out in their vicinity.
“Question is, have you seen another white-man out here, probably with pack mules or a wagon?” MacIntosh asked.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
NPC: Joseph Klinzing | Written by Flip
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Army scouts... Joseph relaxed a bit then, yes, it made sense. Course anyone could tell a body anything, didn't make it true.
"No need to worry, friend, we’re scouting for the Army, lookin’ for a man that roams these parts. Got no real name for him, Sioux call him ‘Grandfather,’ or some such.” MacIntosh began, “Seems the fella deals in guns and whiskey, or that’s the rumor. Makes the Indians more dangerous to everyone in these parts.”
"You don't say? Don't speak Sioux myself," Joseph commented.
“Question is, have you seen another white-man out here, probably with pack mules or a wagon?” MacIntosh asked.
Joseph nodded, "Matter of fact I have. Three white men and a wagon."
"Didn't talk to 'em though, they was headin' into an Injun village," he added.
Benjamin waved off the man's offer of a cigar, personally he gave up on those things though on occasion during the war he did light up. Made his mouth dry though.
"Fine bunch o’ soldiers, Captain, fine bunch indeed. I feel mighty safe with those boys behind me.” declared the garrulous civilian.
"I have faith in my men," Benjamin replied, though in truth only recently he had to take on some brand new recruits. That was the army, you worked with what you got.
Crabbe asked “You know much about MacIntosh, Cap?”
"I only met him but I had heard about the man. He has a fine reputation. Seems to carry himself well and I have no doubt he knows his job," Benjamin commented.
Crabbe asked “You know much about MacIntosh, Cap?”
"I only met him but I had heard about the man. He has a fine reputation. Seems to carry himself well and I have no doubt he knows his job," Benjamin commented.
“No doubt. No doubt indeed.” Crabbe nodded, and managed to light his cigar with little difficulty despite being atop a moving horse. For all her ungainly looks, Greedy was an untroublesome animal to control and seemed to be genuinely happy to be out of her stable and off gadding about the open prairie.
The civilian huckster turned again to the column of men and had another question for the taciturn officer.
“Say, d’these fellers ever get to go into Town? Into Kalispell?” he asked “They get paid, I presume? I mean in real money, not just scrip to use in the army stores?”
He’d discounted the Fort as a source of customers for his planned Hurdy Gurdy House, but maybe they were a possible income stream. Only problem was, if they got rowdy or were sore losers, and his hired sluggers had to kick them out or beat them down, they might come back with a whole army behind them.