“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.”
Storyteller / Shared NPC
NPC: Joseph Klinzing | Written by Flip
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Joseph listened as the white scout explained why they were curious about possible white men wandering about out far from civilization.
"Oh sure," he nodded then gestured further to what would be east, "Keep heading that way and when you come to a bluff just below a creek pretty much like this one. That Injun village is in easy sight when you get up or around the bluff."
One thing did puzzle him though, "Crow you say? Don't reckon so. You do know that Custer's 7th and General Crook use Crow scouts. Them Crow hate the Sioux worse than we do."
"But the village belongs to the Two Kettles, a Sioux bunch," he pointed out.
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.”
Storyteller / Shared NPC
NPC: Joseph Klinzing | Written by Flip
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
“Appreciate the information. We’ll take it back to the column and go from there," the veteran scout declared.
The buffalo hunter nodded, "Good luck to you gents."
"Say if there is a reward for this here Grandfather, I'd like to think I might get a share at least for my helpful information," he sniffed the possibility of a bit of money in the offing.
"Name's Joseph Klinzing," he then spelled out the last name for the scout's information.
Crabbe now changed subjects yet again. Was this man going to go on the whole journey? Benjamin certainly hoped not.
“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?”
"If the commanding officer allows it, yes there can be some short leaves on occasion. Not my call either way," the veteran captain answered.
"And the United States cavalry does not pay their men in scrip. Out on the frontier or on campaign, the men might not get their money right away but they are paid in cash," Benjamin frowned.
"If the commanding officer allows it, yes there can be some short leaves on occasion. Not my call either way," the veteran captain answered.
“Sounds like a good idea.” Nodded Crabbe, approvingly “Blow off some steam, sow their oats. Go back to their soldierin’ with a spring in their step, huh?”
He looked back again at the column of men. Half of them looked like young recruits who’d probably never even known a woman, and would probably pay good money to do so. The other half were rugged old timers who would definitely pay good money to do so. Problem was, he was yet to find any suitable ‘ladies’ in Kalispell. He might have to go farther afield to recruit to his remuda.
"And the United States cavalry does not pay their men in scrip. Out on the frontier or on campaign, the men might not get their money right away but they are paid in cash," Benjamin frowned.
Lorenzo looked at the mustachioed officer long and hard. “Yeah, … that’s good. Good they get paid. Say, you seem to take life pretty serious, Cap. Don’t you ever have a little fun? Take a drink? Flirt with the ladies? Little sociable game o’ chance with your friends?” he asked, like the feller probably even had any friends. He wasn’t just pitching his trade, he was genuinely interested in whether this man ever actually enjoyed himself or just lived to follow army orders.
“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."
“Yeah, … that’s good. Good they get paid. Say, you seem to take life pretty serious, Cap. Don’t you ever have a little fun? Take a drink? Flirt with the ladies? Little sociable game o’ chance with your friends?”
Benjamin looked at the man, was he ever gonna stop asking questions and shut up?
"I have a few friends, all in the army scattered all over the place. Lost some too - it's a hard life. Not complaining though, I signed up for it," he responded.
"And I do like to drink on occasion, off duty of course. I don't get much chance to flirt with ladies to answer that one. I don't play cards, but I used to play a lot of checkers with one of my sergeants. We served in the late war together....." he paused as if remembering it all fondly but added, "He died last year. Good soldier, good man."
Benjamin left out how the man had died, he had fallen into a deep depression and shot himself.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
It was an uneventful jaunt so far as the column continued to plunge in a general eastward direction. But afterall, one should not become impatient. This hunt might take many days. And even worse, they might not even find what or who they were looking for. So far though the ride was only probably hard on the new recruits in the column. Well, let them get used to it.
Benjamin spotted a rider approaching, before he could summon his sergeant to take a few troopers and go out and meet this ride, he already recognized who it was. It was MacIntosh sans Indian. But the man was not galloping as if he was being chased so that was a good thing.
"Column halt," he raised one hand and pulled on the reins of his horse who knew this drill and stopped.
The sergeant bellowed out that same command in a loud voice and the column lurched to a stop. Then they all waited until the veteran scout rode up within hearing.
"Captain. Think we've got a lead on the village and the traders."
Benjamin just calmly nodded, it was good news indeed but a bit early to get excited. First he wanted to hear some details from the man.
"Very well, Mr. MacIntosh, fill me in on how you came about this information. Oh and your Indian, is he alright?"
“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.
Crabbe gave up on talking to Barlow. It was depressing, to be blunt. The thought of an evening in playing checkers with the man sounded about as much fun as a funeral … and one with no wake afterwards, to boot.
"Column halt," he raised one hand and pulled on the reins of his horse who knew this drill and stopped.
The sergeant bellowed out that same command in a loud voice and the column lurched to a stop. Then they all waited until the veteran scout rode up within hearing.
"Captain. Think we've got a lead on the village and the traders."
Lorenzo had to admit to himself, that was pretty quick work! He’d picked the right outfit to travel with here, all right.
"Very well, Mr. MacIntosh, fill me in on how you came about this information. Oh, and your Indian, is he alright?"
“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."
“Jesus, they got here fast” exclaimed Crabbe. “They must’ve caught the railroad train!” Nah, must be some other off-shoot of the tribe, he told himself, not Eagle Woman’s people.
“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.