All Forums  BUMPPIN' 'ROUND BUMPPO'S  In The Tavern ... Wenches, Wahoos, and Girty!  MacMillan's Gambit (Part-1) - 14 May 1764

Note: You must be registered in order to post a reply.
To register, click here. Registration is FREE!

Screensize: 640 x 480 800 x 600 1024 x 768 1280 x 1024 UserName: Password: Format Mode: Basic  Help  Prompt  Format: Videos: Font Andale Mono Arial Arial Black Book Antiqua Century Gothic Comic Sans MS Courier New Georgia Impact Lucida Console Script MT Bold Stencil Tahoma Times New Roman Trebuchet MS Verdana   Size 1 2 3 4 5 6   Color Black Red Yellow Pink Green Orange Purple Blue Beige Brown Teal Navy Maroon LimeGreen Message Icon:                             Message: Smilies [quote][i]Originally posted by SgtMunro[/i] [br][b]“MacMillan’s Gambit” (Part One) By Sgt. Munro Northeast of Fort Pitt, The Ohio Country 14 May 1764 / 1310 Hours[/b] The warmth of a late spring morning, gave way to the heat of early afternoon. Ensign MacMillan and Sergeant Munro were leading Corporal MacIntyre’s Squad on an extended patrol of the Allegheny River. MacIntyre’s cousin, Murdoch MacTear volunteered to act as scout and forager for the patrol. Following the trade path along the southern shore of the river, the patrol was on its second day out and thankfully the rain, which had plagued them since departing Fort Pitt, had finally abated. Once a suitable ford was located on the Kiskiminetas River, the men were ready to stop for midday meal. “Alright men, just over this next rise is a hunting cabin belonging to Raymond Donley, we shall stop there for the day.” MacMillan said, pointing toward the location. “That would be nice.” Corporal MacIntyre said to Sergeant Munro. “Aye Ian, I look forward to removing these wet gaiters and hose.” MacMillan motioned for the men to halt, as he noticed Murdoch MacTear moving quickly down the trail toward them. The men faced outward, forming a defensible perimeter, and waited. MacTear stopped, in front of MacMillan, and whispered, “Sir, there may be a wee bit ‘o trouble ahead.” “Explain, Master MacTear.” Pausing, to look back up the trail, Murdoch said, “Sir, Mister Donley is nae to be found, and his cabin… sir, you really need to see this.” Turning to his sergeant, MacMillan ordered, “Pick three men, and go forward toward the cabin. I will take Corporal MacIntyre, and the rest of his squad, to circle around in order to secure the flank approach opposite the Allegheny.” “Aye sir.” Munro then quietly said, “MacDonald the Elder and Younger, and MacDougal, follow me.” Twenty minutes later, Sergeant Munro and his men arrived at the Donley Cabin. The men felt a wave of shock, wash over them, as they looked at the scene. The cabin itself was partially collapsed, due to the destruction of the doorway. Footprints marked the ground, but they were distorted from the preceding two days of heavy rain. The interior walls were spattered with blood, hair, bone fragments and flesh, so much of it, that there was not any doubt as to the fate of Mister Donley. Crossing himself, Munro said, “God in Heaven, what happened here?” Examining the crushed wall, Private MacDougal observed, “Looks like it took a hit of round shot, from a 9-pounder.” “Aye, Angus.” Private MacDonald the Elder agreed, but then said, “Except that the wood is splintered outward. Someone quite literally pulled the front of the cabin off its foundation.” “Someone, or something…” Private MacDonald the Younger noted as he tried to classify the four-toed footprint.” “What are you saying, Joshua?” Munro asked, as he walked over toward him, “That print is all askew from the rains.” “All I am saying Sergeant, is that whoever did this weighs over four-hundred pounds and has a forty-inch stride.” Private MacDonald the Elder then pointed at a broken limb found within the cabin, and noted the tree from where it was removed from, “And he is over eight feet tall.” [b]…Meanwhile, near Fort LeBeouf:[/b] Francis Cooper and Thomas Thacher were carrying their small canoe the last hundred yards of the corduroy portage road, which connected Fort Presque Isle and Fort LeBeouf. Approaching the burnt remains of the fort, Francis paused and nodded for Thomas to set the canoe down. “I still cannot believe that this post and Presque Isle are both gone.” “And Fort Venango, further south sir.” Thomas added. Shaking his head, Francis continued, “Nine posts destroyed and two very disciplined siege operations within weeks of one another, a righteous fury unleashed by the short-sighted policies of one man.” “Yes sir.” Both men again picked up the canoe, containing their equipment, and walked into what used to be fort’s s [/quote]    Upload an Image File From Your PC For Insertion in Your Post    -  HTML is OFF | Forum Code is ON   Check here to include your profile signature. Check here to subscribe to this topic.