Storyteller / Shared NPC
Dodson smiled at the approach of a small band of mounted Indians.
"Told ya, knew they'd come. Guns and liquor, Injuns can't get enough of either," he grinned at the second man standing there, his long time business partner, Tom Lomack.
Their business had long been dealing with Indians of all sorts and tribes. Some Indian agents looked the other way, others could not tolerate them. The United States army on the other hand despised them. As less and less Indians roamed the plains, sadly that meant less and less business. Most of these once proud red savages now lived on reservations, like zoos. Not that Dodson had ever seen a zoo. Those were way back East in civilization, much of the west was not yet what one could call civilization.
The two men had hovered about the Kiowa reservation for a good week, not contacting the local Indian agent. He was supposedly a new appointment, what with the death of the previous fellow. So Dodson did not know enough about the man to take the chance. But he had his ways of contacting the Indians. He told them of the fine new guns he had with many many bullets. All the red men had to do was bring horses, good horses to trade. The Kiowas like any Plains Indians knew horses alright. Then of course, Dodson would take these same horses and sell them to the US government at considerably higher prices than the guns cost them.
By the time the party of riders pulled up in front of them, both men were grinning as Dodson welcomed the Indians. There were nine riders including one looking as old as dirt with white streaked hair and leather face plus two young bucks, more boys than men. Not that Dodson cared about their damn ages. What did concern him however was where in tarnation where the damn horses? He found it difficult to believe these Indians couldn't scrounge about horseflesh. It was a bit worrying but there both groups were now. Time for the art of the deal as his Pa used to always say.
It was rather obvious which Indian was the leader or at least spokesman, he was up front and center, he had the confident look of a big important man. Hopefully one of these red bastards knew some English because he only knew bits of Kiowa though he also could throw in some Apache too. Now Tom could speak right good Spanish if it came to it.
Neither side was going to waste time with small talk, pleasantries, that was for women...and government agents. In a halting exchange interspersed with pauses as one side or the other searched for understandable words, it actually did not take them long to get to the crux of the matter. The Indian assured Dodson the ponies were on behind the ridge, they would not bring them until he was convinced the white eyes had brought the guns. Oh he made a point of it there had better be many cartridges too. Dodson gave his own assurances he had a crate of fine rifles, holding up all ten of his fingers as to the number. And boxes of ammo too. He'd trade them all for the same number of horses. And of course he'd have to be able to judge the quality of the horseflesh up close, check their legs, teeth, that sorta thing.
Lomack now stepped forward holding a whiskey bottle in each hand, all part of their sweetening the deal with some fire water. Actually it was about the cheapest whiskey they could get their hands on and watered down to boot. Like them Injuns would be able to tell the difference.
Everything appeared to be going very well until suddenly it was not. The Kiowa spokesman's face contorted into anger and he barked out to his people. And what followed was Dodson and Lomack's worst nightmare. The Indians started shooting. Neither man didn't even have time to turn and run or in Dodson's case go for his holstered revolver. Both went down, neither dead though. Unfortunately for them.
By the time a ranchers wagon came upon the scene, all that was there was a small buckboard, no horses though and two stretched out bodies. Even for the most hardened cowpoke the sight of the men was gut wrenching. Their eyes had been gouged out, their mouths stuffed with their own scrotums, their bellies slit wide open and it was also quite obvious their tormentors had made fires inside their body cavities.
One the reservation found out, the US cavalry was ordered to investigate. Standard Kiowa tactics had been to raid south or west when they had previously broken out off reservation, the last time in 1874. So the troopers headed detachments in both directions.
Only later would it become apparent this war party had headed north. Once decades ago the Kiowa had made parts of the north all the way up into Montana as part of their territories. Why in the 1840s a few raids even got as far as the Canadian border. But that was old history. This was most unusual but it allowed these renegades to get a big jump on their white enemies.
The last raid north had just begun.
OOC: This thread will take place mostly in Montana and is designed to be a tale of cavalry v.s. Indians. I will be writing the Indians. If players want to get some Kalispells locals involved, we can probably work something out. Flip already has two chars, his scouts at Fort Kalispell, they will be going out with the cavalry in pursuit.
I am going to be writing this fairly realistically, no Hollywood shoot em outs with Indians riding rings around circled wagon trains or every shot fired by the good guys hitting. So be warned if you do want to participate, it might not be glorious.
That said I'd love to see others jump in.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
One week later...
Fort Somers
Late morning
Sgt. Baumann, the most veteran NCO at the fort, ambled on up to two very familiar figures, the civilian scouts. They might be civilians but they drew government pay and thus were expected to ride when and where necessary. Just like the troopers.
"Good day to you," Baumann stated in that low gruff tone of his, one easily identified as a German accent.
"Captain Barlow has sent me to let you know you are required for a scout. I do not know the particulars but we will leaving within the hour. The Captain will be going on out with his entire company. Expect this to be a long ride."
He could not resist adding one thing, "The word is it is Indians we go after. The Captain will give you more details when you see him."
"Spose I best get on down there and get the straight skinny on this mission. Thank you Sergeant Baumann." MacIntosh said, then added, "Now you said Indians, eh? ALright, and the whole of the comp'ny? Sounds like we're in for it."
Ke-Ni-Tey stood in the doorway of their quarters, not where he slept, but where he could be found, even during the winter months, except when he was outside the perimeter in his wikiup, listening to the white eyes soldier tell MacIntosh of the coming trek which meant another fight with the hostiles, he did not use the word hostiles, he called them 'horse warriors. He merely grunted.
"I'll be back," Mac said. Ke-Ni-Tey nodded and turned into the room to start preparations for the coming trip.
He and Baumann said little to one another as they walked to Captain Barlow's office, as both men were thinking of the coming expedition. Scouting was exactly that, he and the Apache were assigned to look for signs of hostiles, or to locate them in some suspected spot where they rarely were to be found.
MacIntosh stepped through the open door of Barlow's office, keeping a respectful distance, "You wished to see me, Captain?
Benjamin had just finished cleaning the lenses on his US Army issue binoculars when in walked the fort's civilian scout. He looked up.
MacIntosh stepped through the open door of Barlow's office, keeping a respectful distance, "You wished to see me, Captain?"
"Ah good, Mr. MacIntosh, come in, sit if you want. It seems as if the army has need of you and your Indian comrade accompanying us. We have been ordered seek out some renegade Indians who skipped away from their reservation. Quite far to the south too, the Indian Agency said a bunch of Kiowas have decided to go on the warpath. Strangely enough thus far all reports we have been given chart their progress northward. Normally the Kiowa don't get up this far north but for whatever reason this bunch is different," Barlow got right to the point, he knew MacIntosh was not one for idle chatter.
"We are to find them, attempt to bring them back in, or failing that, engage them and destroy them. Now it isn't going to be easy, they have no women and children to slow them down, just a war party. We have also been informed they got their hands on a shipment of rifles from some gun runners who they killed. So this is going to be a tough one," Barlow never underestimated the Indians unlike some white men.
"Sounds about right, Captain." MacIntosh replied, "Gun runners, scum of the earth they are, Them and whiskey drummers tyhat trade firewater for whatever thjey can get. Got no use for the lot of 'em, and they got what was comin' to 'em! When are we pullin' out? Still some cold, sutrprised that the injuns are on the war path in the cold, but maybe iot was warmer down south. Anyway, we're ready when you are."
It wasn't like they had all the things the Cavalry needed to get ready for the trail. Glad of the food they would bring along, least ways they would eat. By now the troop was used to Ke-Ni-Tay. Apaches have a way of causing some to be on edge, especially any of them that had served in the Southwest.
"I doubt they'll be too anxious to get back to the reservation and whatever they'd get to face once they got there." He added. He was ready whenever they were, and the Apache would be ready by the time he got back, it was just the way of things with them.
"Sounds about right, Captain." MacIntosh replied, "Gun runners, scum of the earth they are, Them and whiskey drummers that trade firewater for whatever they can get. Got no use for the lot of 'em, and they got what was comin' to 'em!"
"Well, I agree with the sentiments, Mr. MacIntosh," Barlow smiled just a little as he finished packing away the binoculars.
"When are we pullin' out? Still some cold, surprised that the injuns are on the war path in the cold, but maybe it was warmer down south. Anyway, we're ready when you are."
"It's first week of June, Indians have long gone on raiding and war parties come the summer and why not, the best weather. And yes, they were further south on their own reservation but rode off and according to reports we've received were heading north. I will admit it's not the usual path the Kiowa take but I have no doubt who ever's leading them has his reasons," answered the captain.
"I expect to leave within the hour. oh and we may rendezvous with another officer who is supposed to be bringing along a jasper who is fluent in Kiowa. That should help if it comes to negotiations or we manage to catch us a prisoner," Barlow added that little tidbit.
"Clear they wasted no time hittin' the war path." MacIntosh agreed, "Any idea of the number? Might make some difference, many not, just good to know if there's enough of them to split off on us, 'cuz sooner 'er later they'll know we're followin' 'em. Bound to, no matter how careful we might be. They'll be out of their own country an' have other Injuns to be wary of."
And that would be true, so the Kiowa will be constantly on the alert. Souix, Blackfeet, Crow, Assiniboine. And others, but those might be for giving the troop grief as well. This would not be a simple mission by any stretch of the imagination.
"I expect to leave within the hour. oh and we may rendezvous with another officer who is supposed to be bringing along a jasper who is fluent in Kiowa. That should help if it comes to negotiations or we manage to catch us a prisoner," Barlow added that little tidbit.
"That'll be right handy, it will. We'll be ready an' waitin' on ya sir. Best I get back an see what Ke-Ni-Tay's up to. He'd already started packin' up."
It was a little past an hour later when the now formed up column left the fort, their mission hunt down a war party of hostile Indians. This would be much harder than hunting white men. Plus Montana was a vast territory and their target small and elusive. Barlow was not confident they'd ever catch up with these Kiowas. But orders were orders.
Barlow's company was understrength, so typical of the US cavalry, they never attained the numbers the Order of Battle documents indicated. Desertions in the cavalry were a constant issue, some regiments lost close to 50% of their enlisted men in the space of a year. Behind him in column two wide were forty-seven troopers and NCOs, a lieutenant besides Barlow, a captain, and their two civilian scouts. The fort's doctor, no prize that one, was staying right where he was, inside the fort so wounded would have to be brought back to him or some town or village lucky enough to have a doctor. Transporting the necessary supplies of food and ammunition were a string of nine mules. No wagons, the Montana terrain was not conducive to cross country travel, too slow, too prone to breakdown.
On this day of departure the weather was bright, sunny, a decent breeze came out of the west. Too early in the summer for hot, but it was pleasant enough. No guarantee that would continue though. For now this made for decent marching. One should never worry about what it might be a few days from the present. It didn't matter either for they'd be out here regardless of the weather until their task was accomplished or they were called off by the powers that be. Barlow was confident there were other army detachments also assigned to this search.
As they headed in a general northern direction, Benjamin turned to his second in command on this mission, Lt. Darden, recently assigned to Fort Somers. He was a veteran of the late unpleasantness just like Barlow, other than that he was pretty much an open book.
"You ever been in Montana prior to you being posted here?"
"No, cap'n, last posting was Texas. Hear it's a mite colder come winter," the other man smiled.
"You heard right. You won't enjoy I suspect," nodded the captain, "So you cross horns with any Indians down there or for that matter anywhere?"
"Chased Commanches a few times, never caught 'em though.From what I heard about the Red River campaign, Kiowas have a reputation as being just as hard to run down," came Darden's response.
"This bunch will be even harder as they are not burdened down by squaws and kids," sighed Benjamin.
"Might strange, that?" Darden wondered aloud.
"That it is, we'll have to ask them when we catch 'em,"shrugged Barlow.
He then turned to MacIntosh, "Oh, you asked earlier about the numbers for these Kiowas. The Indian agent said he was confident they couldn't be no more than twenty at the most. Big enough alright to do a proper ambush. so I want you to stick pretty close to the column most times. One good volley from them and both you and Ki-Ne-Tay might be killed right off. Then we don't have any scouts. So, on this mission, when you ride on out, you are gonna take a few of my men along too. Just wanted you to know."
MacIntosh looked at Barlow, "Twenty? More than enough to harass thje column. And you're right, but it won't be us scouts they want to take out, no sir Captain." He said with a knowing smile. Yes, they would be as much a target as the officers with the column.
"However you want it, Captain. Hard to scout attached to the column, or hindered by a group of ratling soldiers. But we work for you, so that's your call." He added. This was not to his liking, but it was like he said, he and the Apache worked for him, and he gave the orders.
Barlow did not quite know what to make of MacIntosh's remark about 'ratling soldiers'. Sounded quite insulting but he decided to let it go.
The detachment rode much of the rest of the day before bedding down for the night. Sentries were posted, horses tethered in a few lines. Indians loved to steal horses so the men on sentry duty were reminded to be especially watchful of any approach on the animals. Campfires were set so coffee could be made and saltpork cooked, the lard melting to then be utilized to soften the broken up hardtack. Yes, it was pretty god awful rations but that was what the US cavalry were used to. And after all the mileage, the men would sleep well.
****
Somewhere far from the camp, their target, the Kiowa war party had stopped for the night too. So far their raiding was easy. They'd surprised a few isolated farms and wiped out it's foolish inhabitants. And a wagon had stumbled upon them and it's passengers were easily enough dispatched. The warriors even had taken the time to slowly torture one of the men who took a long time to die. As for the Kiowas, they had taken no losses not even anyone wounded. One horse had gone lamed but fortunately they had taken extras with them in their escape from the reservation. As for the horse, they ate it that very evening.
****
The second day dawned of the march and this time the weather was not as cooperative, the skies were grey and gloomy. On the horizon the clouds looked to be portends of rain. So far the detachment had seen nothing of interest. They did however meet up with a wagon with two cows roped behind it around noon. Turned out to be a farm family, husband, wife, and five children, the oldest a teen girl. Benjamin did not envy that farmer, it had to be a hard life and then to have the responsibility of all those children. Not for him.
The farmer gave them some information to go on though, he said late in the previous day he saw a billowing smoke column coming from their nearest neighbors, farmers too. The size of it he took to mean the place had been burnt. That meant Indians and he decided to abandon the farm rather than wait until it would be too late. So there he was. Benjamin felt he had done the right thing. But it could not have been an easy decision to make.
The farmer gestured in the direction of his farm and there was little option but for the expedition to check it out. He turned to MacIntosh.
"You're probably gonna be riding right into some rain but I think you and Ke-Ni-Tay should ride on ahead and see if you check out if the smoke he saw yesterday was really as serious as he figured. I'm betting it was...umm, is."
"I will assign you four troopers, good riders all."
He called out to Sgt. Baumann, "Sergeant, detail first set of four to accompany our scouts. Remind them, Mr. MacIntosh is in charge and they will obey his orders."
"Yessir!"
In a long moment, there were four troopers assembled behind the pair of scouts, three looked like long serving veterans, one seemed on the young side.